Darker Days

"You were only given this life because you were strong enough to live it, don't give up."

I used to be an avid collector of quotes and this is one I recently found and keep re-reading. Mostly to remind myself that every battle I face I can overcome and it will ultimately make me stronger.  The hard part about rough times is that you can’t look objectively and see what will come of everything when you’re still inside it.  A lot of volunteers feel this way during service and yet once they come home and years later, they only look back on the fondest of times and memories.  I like to believe it will be the same for me.

Through the ‘downs’ I sometimes ask myself “Why am I here?” and that’s quite scary.  Yet, I knew that coming into this. 

One of the most challenging things about working in this country is the endless corruption.  It sometimes feels as if one is constantly surrounded by it.  It’s within the government, the school system, the markets, the police….seemingly everywhere.  Teachers pay bribes to receive more teaching hours because their salary is based on the number of hours they teach.  Students pay bribes to receive good marks.  Graduating students pay bribes to pass university entrance exams.  Patients pay bribes to be treated by doctors. Shop owners pay bribes to keep their store open. Drivers pay bribes to police.  This is all rather discretely done-an outsider might never know. But these are the only ones I know about, I’m sure there’s more out there.

I recognize that I was somewhat naïve about corruption that went along in The States but in learning about how much it happens here I’m saddened by all that it seems to hinder.  On various occasions I’ve had conversations with some locals about this and how they try to fight the system (sadly the majority don’t try or know how to fight it.)  This man is one of the more intellectual individuals I’ve met.  He doesn’t pay bribes to receive more teaching hours and truly wants progress for his country.  In a conversation one day he asked me “How many years behind America is Azerbaijan?” which is rather difficult to answer.  How can one measure this when most nationals have satellite television but don’t have indoor plumbing; some regions have Mercedes but unreliable heating or electrical systems?  And yet how can there be progress with people paying their way to the top position?  How will students learn if they can simply pay a teacher for a good mark?

There are those who fight the system and I know of students who work hard and refuse to pay bribes on exams.  I gravitate towards those individuals.  One man told me of a time when his region had such terrible electricity and he decided to write a letter to the government requesting improvement and included a petition.  He said many people were too afraid of signing their names in fear of consequences. He was a brave individual.  The government responded with a threat of firing his sister-in-law who worked for the electrical company.  What’s the result of this?  People being afraid of their government? 

This culture has a hierarchical system with most people fearing those above them.  Most directors at schools (principals) are highly respected (feared) and they decide who teaches which classes, who should have the best classrooms (or warmest in winter), which teachers receive extra pay to have afternoon clubs, etc.  I was unaware that there were any clubs at school until one day last year someone mentioned that there was an English club.  I learned this after I created my English conversation club, which was on Tuesdays.  Apparently this English club taught by a local teacher was also on Tuesdays…yet I never once saw her come, thus, the students missed out.  She receives money to have this club but never shows up.  I then understood why so many students constantly beg me to make another club for them. Still, I work for free.  I wonder who would help these children if I didn’t?  Who will have this club after I leave? I wonder why I sometimes feel that I want development for this country more than some nationals do?

Sometimes I feel helpless in fighting the system—it feels too large.  Sometimes I think that if I’m am example is that enough?  Can I really make a difference here?  I try to remind myself these challenges are why Peace Corps is here:  To help this country improve and eventually to stand on its own.  I also try to remind myself that I’m only apart of the 6^th group of PCVs in AZ and some countries have had hundreds.  “Yavaş, yavaş progress olacak…inşhallah” (Slowly slowly, there will be progress…god willing.)   

Halloween

Pumpkins, black cats, witches and candy. Costumes, scary music, ghosts and candy. Rushing home after school to make the most of trick-or-treating. Breaking at Aunt Janet’s for hot chocolate. Partaking in their haunted scarefest to give the local kids a chill. Dinner of mom’s soup & grill cheese sandwiches. My brother and his Michael costume. Trading favorite candies and ODing on reeses peanut butter cups and kitkats. These are my memories of Halloween.

The only part of this that the kids in Zerdab have is candy. (Just one more thing I’m grateful for. Well, the memories AND the good candy.)

So to bring a bit of fun and joy to the kids at my school (and maybe perhaps to make up for my missing the festivities at home) I created a small party at school to celebrate Halloween. The holiday wasn’t widely known until a few years ago when the English textbooks began including a text in the 6^th grade book. Many of the older locals have no idea what this holiday entails

and questioned my signs at school explaining the details of the party. Yet the sign posted just 2 days prior to the party created quite a stir among the school. What do I wear? Students ask me. What time is it? Are girls allowed come? What is a costume? Can I wear my school clothes? Costumes are required, school clothes are not allowed. It’s at 4 p.m. and of course, girls may come.

Lacking supplies, I had to rely on some of the Halloween chocolates my parents brought, markers from Mrs. Ceccacci, construction paper, and a Halloween idea book I happened upon on the Peace Corps lounge. Somehow I managed to pull together some printouts for coloring and mazes with a Halloween theme, pin the tail on the black cat, bobbing for apples and arts and crafts. It was a bit difficult to explain the kids to be creative in thinking of their costume but I was pleasantly surprised with most of the girls’ ideas. The boys on the other hand reverted to using markers to draw on their faces and calling themselves “animals.”

I expected the kids to show up at 3:30 despite the 4 p.m. start time; some came at 3. I expected about 30 kids to show up but about 50 did. I had to get my director involved in dealing with some overly rhoudy boys and a few of the teachers seemed overwhelmed at the kids excitement. All of this just added to my belief that there just isn’t enough for kids to do around town. While I didn’t have as many activities as I would have liked, it seemed those who came enjoyed themselves. And although only the boys participated in the bobbing for apples, feedback from students tells me that the girls also liked the game. Next year I’ll aim to actual have them try themselves.

November 4

Some days it’s especially harder to be away from home. Today is one of them. I want to send a message to my family and tell them that I miss them. I wish I could be with them today to remember Aunt Lorrie and all that we love about her. I still think about her a lot while I’m here and try to act as she would towards everyone she meets: with compassion and kindness. We’re lucky to have had her in our family and I think the world could use a bit more of her. So to my mother, grandparents and especially Aunt Janet: I love you and am sending you a huge hug today. You’re all in my heart as is AL.

Customs and Sayings

To understand any culture one must learn the ins and outs of daily interactions. It’s easy to learn about holidays and history but to truly live among the people you should know just what to say in different occasions. Azerbaijani’s have many different phrases they say at certain times and I now say most of them without thinking about it—a good sign of my adaptation to life here!

First and foremost people who know one another always say “hello” which is immediately followed by “how are you?” whenever they meet. Every time. It can be interpreted that you’re angry with someone if you don’t. I’ve gotten so used to this that now when I speak to my parents on the phone the first thing I say (in English) is “Hi, how are you?”

The second most common phrase is “You are welcome.” This isn’t in response to “Thank you,” but the person speaking is welcoming you to wherever you’ve come, usually their house. Again, every time you visit. You’ll be welcomed even if you left twenty minutes ago and have just returned. If you arrive before someone who lives in the house, once they come home they’ll welcome you. It’s their way of showing hospitality. Sometimes people even welcome you to their place of employment, as when I go to the post office sometimes they welcome me there. During their visit, my parents were welcomed to the town at practically every shop and by every teacher at school.

“Yaxshi yol” is another common phrase said among the locals here. It means “good way to you” or “safe travels on your journey.” People will say to one another whenever they’re leaving somewhere, whether it is a trip to another city or just down to the shop for some bread.

“Inshallah” is one of my favorites and I already plan on taking this phrase home with me when I leave. It means “God willing/if God allows.” I never said this phrase at home but for some reason it fits really well to life here. Inshallah I’ll find a better house; inshallah this school year will go well; inshallah this marshutka ride won’t be too uncomfortable; inshallah the rooster won’t wake me at 4 a.m.; inshallah everything will be all right. There hasn’t been a day I’ve been here where this phrase wasn’t said. Numerous times. It can come at the end of any conversation, whether it’s about your hopes for winter not being too cold or a future event [hopefully] taking place. When I’d leave for the weekend and tell my host mother I’d return on Sunday she used to say “Inshallah.” At first I was concerned because I interpreted her saying this as in something could happen to me while I was gone and there was the possibility I wouldn’t return. Then I began to realize how commonly she says this…it’s just their way of agreeing that good things will happen.

Perhaps the most interesting, and hardest for volunteers to catch on to in their early days here, is said after one showers. “Hemisha temiz” means “may you always be clean” and it’s said to individuals as soon as they exit the shower (fully clothed mind you.) Every time. So if you showered yesterday and then showered again today, when you exit the bathroom anyone in the house who sees you will say “hemisha temiz.” Azerbaijani’s don’t usually shower everyday-and in winter its usually once a week-but when they do, sometimes it can be up to a half hour. I thought this was said because showering occurs less frequently than in the states but they say it to one another even in the summer if they shower everyday or even twice a day. Some of my students and my counterpart have asked me if we say this in America and I explained that most people shower everyday so we don’t usually wish one another to be clean.

Azeri’s tend to have much fewer possessions than Americans. What they do have, however, they cherish and take care of. When it comes to clothes they probably have fewer than most volunteers bring here in our 2 suitcases. People change out of their clothes when they get home and work around the house—this keeps their clothes rather stain free and usually lasts longer. Clothes are rather expensive here so people buy just what they need and no more. Most people don’t have western washing machines but you may find some families that can afford it and find it a necessity. For others, it might be a nice car (Mercedes) or a nice cell phone (actually most locals have a nicer cell phone than I do.) Whenever you do have something new, whether it is a new t-shirt, washing machine or piece of jewelry, Azeri’s say “mubarek” which means congratulations. Again, students asked me about this phrase and I explained that Americans tend to have new things rather often so we don’t congratulate one another on them. When I notice something new I now find myself congratulating people on their new possessions.

There are countless other phrases that people say for different occasions. At weddings, at funerals, whenever someone has helped you, etc. I’m sure there are even some I haven’t picked up on yet. But I think it’s an interesting looking into the culture to learn and understand the meaning of their everyday most spoken phrases. I’ve thought about it and haven’t been able to come up with America’s most commonly said daily phrases. Any ideas?

With a little time… (12 Oct)

As I’m walking back from my outhouse this evening my neighbor, sweet lady that she is, is standing at her window and yells at me “Come and eat!” I say hello, and thank her but tell her that I’m not hungry and I will eat later. “You won’t eat?! Why?! Come and get eggs and eat tomorrow!” Although I’d love to accept some of her fresh-from-the-chicken coop eggs I tell her I’m heading to Baku tomorrow but will another time. “Yes, another day come and get eggs.” I head inside and chuckle to myself how oddly sweet it was the way she yelled at me.
My neighbor and her two daughters

These sorts of things have become normal to me but a little more than a year ago I would have thought about it more: how informal and unplanned it was. Why has no neighbor in America yelled at me to instantly come and eat with them? Perhaps we plan too much.
What a year can do.

Taking a Tumble (9 Oct)

I fell while running this morning. I landed on my hands hitting my chin, skinning my right forearm and my left shin. Part of the road is being retiled by the river, and I happened to step right into a gap that was not blocked off. It’s been much darker earlier now and I guess I haven’t readjusted my carefulness, but all the same this was not your American construction site. At first I was taken by surprise, but my second thought was regarding how I’d probably have a nasty bruise on my chin, which could gather some awkward question and answers. Then I thought about what to do next: I was on the opposite side of town from my apartment-I could either choose to walk back, or just continue running my route and get home more quickly.

Which is just what I did. I dusted myself off, examined my forearm and restarted my music.
As I began again I thought how this sort of thing represents PC service and of many things in life. Rough times come, as many at home are seeing with the job market and economy, but it shouldn’t derail us of our path. I’ve been through much worse, and I’ve come out of it. Volunteers inevitably have ups and downs (my recent one had to do with the withdrawal of my parents visit) but I knew if I could just get through the first couple of days and back to routine I’d be okay.

I recently read an article in Body+Soul (thanks mom!) about how although trying times are scary, they can also be very fruitful if you look at it in the right way. Many people who push through hard times come out stronger and gain something from it. Here’s a quote from the end of the article: “Change is good, the saying goes. But as for the change that knocks us down and beats us up, it’s possible to find some good even there—though it may take some time, dedication, and creativity. The soul awakens us as things seem to fall apart. In other words, we don’t ask for crisis, but we can take advantage of it when it arises, and find the surprising way out of the dark.”

I may go a different route but I will still go for a run tomorrow.

Another View

I asked my parents to be guest speakers on my blog to provide another point of view and a fresh take of Americans' look into Azerbaijan. Below are their own words about their 10 day adventure here:

Mom’s story:

Now that we’ve actually come to Azerbaijan, I‘ve adjusted my perceptions of it. In some ways it is what I thought and other ways it’s more. I have a better understanding of what Sara is experiencing. It is a country of contradictions and growing pains.

In Zerdab where she is living there are as many chicken coops as Satellite dishes. Her sight may be the least desirable, but her teachers and students there more than compensate. They respect her and are watching over her, but they also appreciate what she is doing. Tourists do not visit Zerdab, but we were invited into their homes for celebrated meals and became quick friends. There is a lot of livestock roaming the unpaved roads and too many roosters to wake us up. You would be amazed at how Sara has adapted herself to living there.

We also went to another region, Sheki where there were mountains and more modern convinces. Like all countries, they have contrasting regions. Visiting this country and its people, seeing Sara work here makes me wish and hope that Azerbaijan leaders do everything to improve their peoples’ lives.

Dad’s story:

I would venture a guess that not many Americans have an Azerbaijan stamp on their passports. Nancy and I are now one of those few- as we had an opportunity to visit Sara at her Peace Corps site in Zerdab, Azerbaijan.

I call Sara’s Peace Corps tour “Sara’s Adventure”. Several months ago Sara asked us to visit her to better understand her experiences and, by visiting to leave a large and lasting impression with her teachers, past host family and her residence of Zerdab. For all those reasons (the primary one being to visit Sara) I told Nancy to “book the plane tickets”. Those who know Nancy know that she immediately scoured the internet, visited the Maplewood Library and went to Barnes & Noble to research everything she could on Azerbaijan. I could simply sit back and reap the benefits of her research. While Nancy was doing her research, I went to AAA to get a map of the country (they don’t have any) and to get some of the local currency (manat) from the bank or American Express (they don’t have any either).

Regardless of these facts, I don’t worry as Nancy normally does enough of that for the both of us. Besides what’s to worry about? Nancy and I are only going almost halfway around the world to visit a slowly developing Muslim country and we don’t know the language or culture and know only one person in a country of 8.5 million people.

As our trip approached (what I have labeled our ‘mini-adventure’ I, in some perverse way, am looking forward to the 4 hour bus ride from Baku (the capital) to Zerdab (Sara’s site). I imagine that the bus will be overcrowded with too many people, goats and chickens (Sara tells me that there are no goats or chickens but I am not convinced).

The “adventure day” comes and we endure/survive a 15-16 hour travel day (7 ½ hrs to London, 2 hr layover, 6 hr to Baku). Fortunately the flight to Baku is only 1/3 booked so Nancy and I have an opportunity to spread out and to sleep a bit. Thankfully, the very first face we see at the airport is Sara’s. See no worries.

First impressions of Baku:

1) black seems to be the color of choice by the locals

2) males of all ages seem to wear pointed shoes that most likely add 2-3 inches to their shoe size

3) the NYC cab drivers have absolutely nothing on the Baku taxi drivers. These guys drive within inches of the cars/buses/trucks they are following and, honk their horns as a signal, which means, “ready or not here I come” to pass-regardless if there is enough space. And pedestrians do not have the right of way in Baku-rather pedestrians are like the ducks in a boardwalk duck-shoot arcade.

The next day we get to Zerdab not by bus but by taxi. When the taxi departs I have a queasy feeling that I’m a Martian who has just landed. Sara, however, is always close at hand to give us assurances, handles all of the necessary translations and has everything well planned out for our visit.

I have no idea how old the town of Zerdab is-it could be 200 or 1000 years old. I also have no idea why anyone decided to start a town where Zerdab is located-there are few jobs, sights or any other notable features. I find myself constantly rethinking the early scene of the military outpost in the Dancing with Wolves movie and I’m playing the part of Kevin Costner.

The town is rather drab, houses are fairly plain and individual yards completely surrounded by 6’ to 8’ block walls. Chickens, geese, turkeys and a few cows (but no goats) wander aimlessly through many of the streets. (For those of you who believe that roosters only crow at sunrise-I was one of you until my visit-are misinformed-they crow about every two hours through the day and night.

Someone should capture the sound of a rooster crowing and install it into a clock because I can now attest to the fact that a rooster crowing is a very effective wake-up sound.

While dusty or muddy, depending on the weather, the streets are surprisingly clean. Fortunately Sara has moved out of her first home (the one I refer to as a ‘chicken coop’) into a newer two bedroom, 2^nd floor apartment. (And, oh yeah, that little separate building out in the back yard.) During my short stay in her apartment I have now been introduced to taking a bucket bath that is exactly what it sounds like. Sara’s apartment is spacious yet functional and substantially superior to her former “chicken-coop” (a label I found to be exceptionally kind after actually seeing the first home.)

While her town may be rather plain the three families we met and dined with were not, they are all exceptionally kind and generous. While Sara provided 80-90% of the translating they all proved to have a great sense of humor. Since Nancy and I were the 2^nd and 3^rd Americans they have ever met they were all very curious about all things in America.

Throughout my stay with Sara the lyrics to “Hello Madda, Hello Fadda, here I am in Camp Granada” kept repeating in my mind.

I could go on and on about our trip and experience but will save those many, many stories for another time. This “short” blog entry has gone on way too long. So as we are about to return home, let me summarize: would I travel to see Sara again in Zerdab, Azerbaijan? In a heartbeat (with or without Nancy) so “book the flights” as I am again ready for another mini-adventure in an out-of-the-way place.