My Life in Azerbaijan - My Version of the Christmas Carol

December 25, 2010
Christmas with Mariel and Susan in Shamakhi turns out to be wonderful. Mariel lives with a nice Russian grandmother. She is 62 years old, just a lovely lady. She likes plants, and has the most beautiful Christmas cactus plant I ever saw. There must be at least a hundred flowers blooming on Christmas Day. I love to call her NəNə (grandmother) and she gives me a big smile every time. We cook, we eat, we chat, we drink coffee, and in the afternoon, we visit some very old tombs.

Shamakhi actually is an ancient Azerbaijan city. It started in the 5th century BC. The city was once the capital of the Shirvan Dynasty which was considered one of the most beautiful cities of the Orient. Due to the earthquakes from 1667-1902, most of the historical monuments were destroyed. Today, only a few relics remain. One of the most interesting sites is the mausoleum, a burial chamber of the Seven Domes. NəNə’s husband was buried in the same area, so NəNə wants to come with us. The cemetery is located outside of the town. We have to take a taxi to get there.

It is a brisk sunny afternoon. Once we arrive to the graveyard, NəNə starts spreading rice, bread and water on her husband’s grave. After saying a few prayers, she leads us to the antique tombs. The burial site is located on top of a hill, overlooking the entire town of Shamakhi. It is a perfect spot with excellent “Feng Shui”. Most of the seven domes look like half-destroyed stone chambers, as if grown directly from under the ground in the middle of deserted graveyard. The entire atmosphere seems a little mysterious. Normally, out of respect I would not take photograph of a graveyard, but these tombs are ancient and not many people in the world have the opportunity to see them. I quietly ask permission from the “spirit” before taking any photo.

Most of the domes are in very bad conditions, exposing the neglected and untended graves. Overgrown vegetations covered nearly half of the headstones. It is a shame that the government did not do anything to preserve these historical monuments, letting them continue to deteriorate. There are two chambers which are fully intact so I approach one gingerly. By the entrance is the monument’s name which is defined by the number of gravestones in the crypt. Even with the limited amount of sunlight peeping through, I can still make out the entire interior of the tomb. Inside the chamber, there are four gravestones with simple rock designs. According to the local history, some notorious rulers of the Shirvan Dynasty were buried underneath. I have reservation going inside for its eerie ambiance. It is hard to believe that this compartment is really more than a thousand year old. Fascinated by its distant past, I can not help but wondering the tale behind each headstone.

It is a special Christmas Day! Really, how many people would visit the death on a Christmas Day except Mr. Scrooge from the Christmas Carol,….December 19, 1843….feel like I am going back in time…….
On this special day, I could only wish those who have a cold, pinched heart like Mr. Scrooge will go through the same ideological, ethical, and emotional transformation. The world will be a much better place if we have kindness, compassion, charity, and benevolence towards each other. Wish all my friends back home have a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

My Life in Azerbaijan - Christmas Eve and I burned a....

December 24, 2010
Last year Christmas, while all my PCV friends were celebrating the holiday with other site mates, I was alone in Sumgayit. My host family is Muslim, so Christmas for me in 2009 was just another ordinary day except that day my host family killed a cow in the back yard. I still remember that awful sight. This year, Christmas is going to be entirely different. Mariel from Shamakhi (2 hours bus ride) invited me to spend Christmas with her, so I asked Susan, my new site mate to come alone. Christmas Eve, I was very busy cooking and baking. I cooked a roasted Chicken with lots of local vegetables just to treat myself. (I normally could not afford to buy meat) Also, I wanted to bake a cake for Mariel.

I admit, I am not good at baking but I tried. After putting all the ingredients together, I put the cake in the “Azerbaijani Oven”, which is just a Tin box with electrical power. Vivian warned me about using this kind of oven. You have to constantly watch it, rotate the baked item every five minutes because the temperature inside is not even. The first time I used it, Megan helped me, so my cake turned out fine, but not this time.

I set the temperature and forgot all about it until I smelled the burned. When I ran to the oven, all I could see was black smoke coming out from that little box. Immediately, I opened the oven door, and what I saw was a badly burned chocolate cake! I had to open all my windows to let the smoke out. I was sure all my neighbors could smell the burn. I caught all their attention since day 1 I moved into this apartment. A single woman living alone in this country is an Omas! (forbidden). Now I burned my cake, they must have endless things to say about me tomorrow.

“Who is that Cin?”
“She lives by herself? Is she married?”
“She burned something last night!”
“I don’t think she can cook.”
“She does not know how to cook, what kind of woman is that?”

Oh well. Then, I decided to go for a walk and pick up my mail on my way home.

As soon as I went up to the window, this mean lady (always has a mean face, only smile when I gave her tips) started shooting “Azeri bullets”, yelling at me with thousand words a minute. She complained that I should have checked my mails often. A letter has been sitting at her desk over a week now. The letter was from Peace Corps, just a monthly news letter which I already read it on line. I did not really need it.
“Shut up!” I said it quietly to myself. I ignored her, thinking that next time when I receive a package, no tips for you! I should have bought the burned chocolate cake with me and “S” it to her month or somewhere else. I had bad day!!!! Forgive me God.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Wishful Thinking

December 14, 2010
Few days ago, I woke up in the morning and found out no running water. It was not the first time, it already happened a few times in December, I guess winter is officially here in Azerbaijan. From now on, water, gas and electricity will be on and off without any warning.

Yesterday I returned home 5:30pm, switched on the light, nothing happened, water was running very low, and I could not get the stove ignited. My apartment was ice cold and I was hungry. Really I should not complain, my other PCV friends are in a much worse situation, so I calmed down and did my yoga in the dark. Then my mind started to ponder…

5:30pm is the time school children return home and house wives start cooking dinner, why does the municipality decide to turn off the electricity or shut off the gas at this time? 7:00am in the morning, everyone gets up to go to school, to work, why does the government choose this time to turn off the water, and why, WHY no advance notice, or posting power shutdown schedule to alert everyone. But then, I realize I am in Azerbaijan, I am using the US standard to expect the local goverment behaving the same sensible and considerate way towards its fellow countrymen. I am an idiot.

Another day, I walked to the park and passed by a group of young women who all wore 3 or 4 - inch high heel shoes, fancy winter jackets (all made in China). They gave me a dirty look. By now, I am used to the stare, so I ignored them. But then, they turned around and their eyes kept following me. They stared at me from top to bottom and finally their eyes stopped at my running shoes. They giggled and said a few Azeri words that I understood completely. They thought my shoes were ugly. (My host mother made the same remark to me once). I am a woman; I should wear the kind of shoes they, the Azeri women wear.

Normally I would just walk away but that day, I had a very bad mood, so I turned around and l held up my three fingers. I told them to read between the lines (i.e. read my middle finger). I knew they did not understand, but it made me feel better. Soon after, my mind started to ponder again…..

I picture that they are all sitting in a beauty salon having their hair coloring, all the sudden no running water, or while they are having their facial hair plucked, suddenly the light is off. I will better, much better now.…. I am a devil.

My Life in Azerbaijan - My Organization

December 11, 2010
Few weeks ago, my counterpart from Baku, the vice chairman of the bank sent me a Standard & Poor’s survey. It was the first S&P’s survey conducted in Azerbaijan about banking industry. My organization was named as one of the top five most transparent banks in Azerbaijan. My counterpart was proud and I could sense his excitement. For the past year, we had been working together closely to compile the quarterly filings and year end audited report.

Most local banks here do not publish quarterly or annual report. The law requires it but the authority does not enforce it. Even the Central Bank of Azerbaijan (the biggest bank) does not disclose information about its operation. Only a few local banks with foreign shareholders would comply with the International Financial Reporting Standards (IFRS) and publish their annual report in their website.

My bank is a typical Azeri local bank but borrows money from international financial institutions. The loan agreement requires a quarterly financial with disclosure of certain KPIs (Key Performance Indicators). Annual audited report is needed as well. Therefore, in term of reporting standard, my bank is ahead of most of the banks in Azerbaijan. Additionally, my counterpart is an American educated man. He opens to new ideas, and takes pride for what he does. I really enjoy working with him. After reading the survey, I came up with an idea to help the bank create an “Interim Financial Report”, and publish the financial information in its website. I figure, by doing so, not only I can contribute something to the bank, but also I will learn more about banking. Hopefully, when I return to the US next year, more opportunities will be open up to me. After doing some research, I drafted up a report with charts, graphs, MD&A section, mission statement, future outlook and financial write up with detail analysis. I sent the draft to the vice chairman. He seems to like the report and we will go over it together next week.

Once a PCV friend asked me as why I would accept this bank assignment. What I am doing now is similar to what I used to do in the US. Well, I agree. Initially I was not happy for my assignment and wanted to do something else, like working for the orphanage, agriculture business or other NGO. In fact, this assignment was intended for another PCV who has more banking experience but that person did not want to do it, so I am kind of “stuck” with this job.

Remember more than a year and half ago when I was in New York talking to a recruiter from Washington DC, I had made a promise to her (Peace Corps) that I would go anywhere and do anything for Peace Corps. Flexibility is one of the qualities which Peace Corps is looking for from a PCV. Personally, I think it is the quality everyone should have or learn to have. I come to this country to help not for my own personal interest. If there is a need for my skill in the bank, why not?

My Life in Azerbaijan - My Book

December 10, 2010

I have been busy writing my book and neglect to update my “blog” as often as I should. Few individuals show interest in reading my book, but it is still at a very primitive stage, so no one is allowed to read its entirety. However, I do not mind showing the “Preface Section” of the book to give you some hints as what is this book all about. When the book is finished, make sure you order a copy. Enjoy!

Preface

“A Humble Journey” describes my life journey. From the period when I was only three years old living in Hong Kong to the time reached middle age settling in the United States. This book transcribes events that shaped and altered my life, moments that were dear and precious to my heart.

As a 3rd child growing up in a lower-middle class home and a very traditional Chinese family, I neither had the opportunity nor the privilege to pursuit many of my childhood dreams freely and candidly. To be what I am today, I had to fight for the each opportunity vigorously and relentlessly every step of the way. Ambition and determination are my biggest assets, but were often viewed by my parents as detriments to my personality. They feared that I would never be an obedience wife. Little did they know that those are the best gifts they could ever give me. Inherited from my father’s ambition and my mother’s obstinacy, I have accomplished many goals I set out to do.

I have travelled to numerous mountains; drawn to many remote places. I have been on top of the highest mountain in Africa, seen the world highest waterfalls in Venezuela. I have endured in a sub-zero temperature at the base camp of Mt. Everest and tortured by the scorching sun of the Sahara Desert. It was on the slope of Mt. Rainer that I confronted with the ferocious wind, experienced what it took to be an alpinist.

By the Black Sea, I was touched by a glorious sunset and years earlier just as moved by the vista of the lost city in Machu Picchu. Many evenings standing by the shore of the Caspian Sea, I watched the fisherman bringing in their daily catch, singing and cheering the simplicity of life in Azerbaijan. Travelled to Turkey, I was in awe by the grandeur and the majestic mosque of Aye Sophia. On the edge of the Mediterranean Sea, I visited the Roman fortress, impressed by the ancient civilization that once dominated this part of the world. In China, the magnificent Buddha temple, Great Walls and the stone soldiers of Terra Cotta reminded me of my ancient heritage, how proud I am to be a Chinese. Finally, it was at the bottom of the canyon of Southern Utah where I sensed the deepest contentment and peace. I fell madly in love with the solitude surrounded me.

These are the lands I took great pleasure to walk on, and adventures that I undertook for self discovery. I am defined by those journeys and evermore humbled by the experiences.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Living in a Dream?

December 7, 2010
Jim left me a comment in my “blog” pointing out that I was now living in a dream. I never thought that serving Peace Corps is like living in a dream. It is one of the many things I wanted to do in life, but having survived this past cold winter and endured some the most uncomfortable living conditions, I would hardly call my experience a “Dream”. It is more like a “seen it, had it, and done it” kind of experience. Nevertheless, his comment makes me ponder.

Here in Azerbaijan, I don’t have to worry about the US economy. I can imagine how stressful it is everyday in New York to hear about unemployment rate, jobless claims and home foreclosures. Although the allowance I receive from Peace Corps is meager, if I live in a frugal life, the money is more than enough to support my living here. As far as medical, Peace Corps provides us excellent health care. I just had my annual check up and teeth cleaning, entirely free of charge. Whenever I had a little discomfort, I would call up PC doctor, and if my condition was bad, a PC driver would come to my apartment immediately and pick me up to the hospital. Once, PC doctor paid me a home visit just because I complaint about a little dizziness.

Every day, I have time to read, to write, to work, to cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. I have time for my daily exercise, to shop in the bazaar and I even have time to bake a cake. My working hour at the bank is from 9:30am to 4:00pm. There are no deadlines, no pressure, no boss to make my life miserable and definitely no work on the weekends. In terms of material things and luxury life style, I admit, I have none. For a whole year, I only brought two T-shirts for $3 and they were from a second hand store. I never once ate in a restaurant. I do not miss shopping at a fancy clothing stores or dinning at “Mr. Chow” or “Phillip Chow”. Occasionally, I craved for my favorite dish, sweet and sour pork but I could satisfy myself eating chicken marinated with the local pomegranate sauce. The sauce has the same sweet and sour favor. Only when I traveled with other PCVs, I would spoil myself with a glass of cheap wine or a good Turkish beer (8.5%). This summer, Mariel and I traveled to Turkey and we shared a beer. She weighted 85lbs and I weighed 95lbs at that time. We both ended up drunk by that beer, and flirted shamelessly with a Turkish boy. Other than that, I really live in a very simply life.

But it is this simply life that makes me very healthy and fulfilling. I look at the mirror in the morning, high humidity of this country makes my wrinkles disappear, my daily exercise keeps me strong, a well balanced, greasy free, and cholesterol free diet keep me in good shape. Last but not least, a stress free environment helps me to maintain an optimistic altitude. I feel younger and happier each day.

Perhaps I am in fact living in a dream. Thanks Jim for pointing that out.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Becoming a Good Cook!

December 1, 2010
This summer, I had quite a few PCV visitors; Catharine, Carol, Vivian, Megan, Rikki, Mariel, a LCF and three AZ8 girls. This week, my new sitemate, Susan is also coming to see me. To entertain them, I cooked them lunch or dinner. Although I enjoy cooking, I hardly did any cooking in New York due to my busy schedule. Now I have all the free time, so I cook everyday. Practice makes it perfect; that is what happening to my cooking skills.

My visitors seem to like my cooking. Vivian was once a famous cater in the US, even she likes my scallion pancake with vegetable soup. Rikki is fond of my roasted chicken or chicken with black bean source. Megan enjoys the bean cake and fried rice. The three AZ8 girls finished all my American, Chinese and Azerbaijani pancakes with jam. Lately, I even learnt to make fresh noodles.

With simply flour, I made the thick noodle, cook it in boiling water for just a few minutes. On the plate, I place some freshly chopped scallions, mixed with sesame oil, soy source, pin of sugar, white or black pepper, a little bit of salty pickle radish or dried pork meat (entirely optional). When the noodle is done, pour them over the mixture, the heat from the noodle slightly warms the mixture and it brings out the aroma of the sesame oil. Finally sprinkle on top some toasted sesame seeds. The dish is simple, tasty and healthy. Doesn’t that look good?

Eat it with a pair of chopstick makes the meal even more interesting and enjoyable. I recommend a bottle of 1985 French red wine (which I have been saving it for a special occasion at home) to accompany with the meal.

Nuş olsun! (Bon appetit)

I hope “J” will ask me to cook the noodle for him.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Things I will miss in Azerbaijan

November 30, 2010
When I leave next year, the two things I will miss the most in Azerbaijan are the fresh local breads and fruits. Bread is the main diet in this part of the world.

Everyday, every household either bakes its own bread or buys it from the store. The most popular kind which the local eat is the round white bread. In term of nutrition, it has very little, but it is cheap, 0.2 azn or $0.25 a piece. Azerbaijani has bread for breakfast, for lunch and for dinner. It is the most important item on an Azeri family’s table. Once in a while, I purchase the Tudor bread from a Russian lady. She bakes her breads in a round stony oven. The bread is still hot when I bring it home. With melted cheese or peanut butter on top, I once ate an entire piece to indulge myself and regretted it later. Now, I am addicted to it but refrain myself from eating no more than ¼ pieces at a time.

Fresh fruits are abundance in this country and they are cheap in summer/autumn. Early summer; you can see all kinds of mulberry in the bazaar; black, white, red and the strawberry. I love the jam that the local makes with the berries. They are absolutely delicious. Soon after, it is the melon, big juicy sweet water melon and honey dew. Thinking of them makes my mouth watering. In peak summer, you can buy a big 3-4 kilos melon for only 1 azn, or $1.25. This past summer, after running, I devoured myself with melon. It was like a glass of cold beer, so refreshing and energizing. Around July, the grapes arrive; some of them are small but unbelievably sweet, like honey mixed with sugar. In August, it is the yellow and black fig. They are plentiful inside the park by the Caspian Sea. I just love to pick them during my daily walk. It was a delightful experience to pick and eat them right from the tree. I never knew that fig can make jam. I learnt to make fig jam this summer and saved a few jars to share with my friends back home.

Autumn comes, apples, pomegranate, persimmon, tangerine and all kinds of local fruits that I don’t even know saturated the bazaar. Farmers came to the city with their rundown Russian vehicles, filling the entire car and trunk with fruits. They opened the trunk with a smile, let you duck in and pick any fruits you want. You go home with 5-kilo bag of apple and it costs you less than 2 azn ($2.5).

I have developed an appetite for apple salad. For lunch, I cut an apple and a cucumber; add a pin of salt and pepper, dash of lemon juice with sesame oil, mixed with a few nuts and raisin. It is the healthiest and tastiest salad I ever ate.

I think I am becoming a fruitarian and a vegetarian, thanks to Azerbaijan.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Thanksgiving in Azerbaijan

November 28, 2010
This year, we, the AZ7s, were invited to have a Thanksgiving dinner in Baku. Including the Peace Corps staffs and the AZ6, there were nearly 100 people in the party. The event was held at the US Ambassador’s residence. Adam is our new ambassador. He arrived at Azerbaijan only a few months ago. He is a very nice man. Not only did he allow us to use his home to hold the party, he even ordered the Turkey from Brazil for us. Adam and his kitchen staffs were very graceful to make the party a success.

Since I arrived in Azerbaijan, I had not had a real decent American meal. I missed the turkey dinner with lots of side dishes. Like everyone in the party, I was looking forward to enjoying this evening. We were asked to bring a dish for the party. By five o’clock, most of the guests arrived and the dinner room was packed with foods. Besides Turkey, there were potato, bean, soup, apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, cookies, cakes, banana bread, corn bread, California rolls, and ice cream. I used to watch what I eat, but that night, I did not care. I stuffed myself so full that I was sure that I gained back all the weight I had lost.

After dinner, it was a talent show. The young PCVs are really creative. They made up comical songs, love poems, and jokes to make the entire evening full of fun, laugh and love. For a moment, we temporarily forgot ourselves as a Peace Corps Volunteer, but a bunch of crazy Americans, enjoying the Thanksgiving with each other. Although our family and friends were thousand and thousand miles away, but tonight, none of us were feeling lonely for we had each other on this special holiday. I realized I have made so many friends and met so many amazing people this past year.

Vivian is my closest PC friend. She and I had lots of fun cooking and traveling together. Suddenly, I realized, by next year this time, both of us will be on our separate way. I will be on my way for a long journey to South East Asia, and she will be home in America. Watching her cheering and smiling in the party, I could not help but feeling emotional. I sincerely wish her the best with her life after Peace Corps.

After the party, Peace Corps arranged overnight accommodation for us. Vivian and I spent the night at the Embassy staff’s home. The couple and their baby live inside a compound surrounded by walls, a brand new house with three stories. Inside the compound, you would not think that you are in Azerbaijan. Compare to the old shabby apartment buildings outside the compound, inside, it is completely a different world.

Working for the US government oversea, American is given lots of special treatment. Their living standard is far better than that of the locals. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, we are not entitled to receive that privilege yet, but I am contented for what I have. Living outside of the compound and experiencing the Local daily’s life; that is the reason I am here.

For friends back home, I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Packages from home

October 23, 2010
Nothing makes us (the PCVs) happier than getting a package from home. No matter how insignificant the items inside the box may seem, each piece represents love and concern for our well being and support for what we are doing here in Azerbaijan. Yesterday, I received two big packages from two special people; my sister and Gene Rose. My sister is always special to me. She sent me nearly one package a month to cheer me up. The other special person is Gene Rose, an American friend, whom I only met once.

I met Gene few years ago in Peru. We were in the same trekking group to Macho Picchu. Gene showed interest knowing our hiking club (“Chinese Mountain Club of New York”). He is a friendly and an easy going person. Jomi, George and I found him a very good travel companion. We shared a lot of happy time up on the high mountains of Peru. After we returned home, Gene and I kept in touch with e-mail. Years later, Gene went to Iraq and did volunteer work for the American troop and I came to Azerbaijan with Peace Corps. We share the same passion as wanting to give something back to the world.

The package Gene sent me is the biggest by far. It weighted nearly 10 lbs and filled with all kind of goodies. I felt so guilt when I saw how much it cost him to mail me that big box. Inside the box, there were boxes of cake mixed that I had requested and the cheeses! I was thrilled to see so many of them, how much I missed them. I will save some for Vivian when she comes to visit me next month. Boxes of cake mixed, I can bake chocolate brownie for Rikki and Megan when they stay over in December. The chocolates, the bubble gums, and the bagel chips (it is the New York style!), my God, I am in heaven.

Then, I opened my sister’s package. All the Chinese moon cake I craved for were looking back at me, waiting for me to eat them. There were Chinese soy source, sesame oil, peanut oil, a Japanese bowl, DVD movies, and all kind of Chinese snacks that remained me of my happy childhood! Usually I watch what I eat. But yesterday, I did not care. I ate nearly the entire slab of cheese with salty cracker, then after dinner, I ate the whole moon cake. I was sure I consumed more than 5000 calories in a day. By the end of this week, I may gain back some weight to 100 lbs.

Yesterday was one of the happiest days of my life in Azerbaijan. I know there are people care deeply about what I do, love me for who I am. I am grateful to have a friend like Gene and a kind person like my sister. Thank you very much, both of you. Now with the burst of energy from the cheese, this evening, I am going to play football with those cute little kids by the Sea. I can image how their faces will light up when they see Gene’s chocolates and bubble gums.

My Life in Azerbaijan – Yaxşı Yol ! (Safe Journey Home!)

October 16, 2010 – Yaxşı Yol ! (Safe Journey Home!)

The AZ8s are here, and the AZ6s are leaving, while my group the AZ7s still has another year to go. All the comings and goings really make Autumn the busiest time for Peace Corps staffs in Baku office.

As for the AZ6s, some will depart on November; some will be off on December. All of them I talked to are excited to go home. When I asked about their fulfillment of serving the Peace Corps, most of them just gave me a smile and said “don’t hold up your expectation too high”, which I already knew, but none of them has any regret. They are glad that they have finished the full two years term. Some of them have accomplished their missions, some may not have. No matter what the final outcome is, they represent a small group of America who can endure the hardship of daily life surviving on a foreign land. Here are only some of those hardships: (contributed by an unknown writer from us)

In winter, you have to walk outside to the toilet in the cold
You have to build up your thigh muscles to survive the squat toilets and
where the heck is the toilet paper?
Every day, you have to walk through fields of mud, trash, and other things
Your hands hurt from wringing out your clothes in freezing cold water
You have to wait a week for your clothes to dry
You have to set aside valuable time to boil water and set up filter because you have seen what is in the water
You have suffered from diarrhea and the effects of HA’s revenge due to too much oil in the foods and stress
You have lived with swarms of flies and mosquitoes and might be one of the lucky PCVs that get to live with the side effects of malaria pills.

Having the experience living outside of the US, we become conscious that how lucky we are as American. The freedom, the right, and the opportunity, which we used to take for granted, are now genuinely appreciated by us. Being a PCV, we know that there is no country in the world we will love more.

When the AZ6s return home, they may have to re-adjust themselves to deal with the “luxury” life in America, but slowly and surely they will put those challenging living conditions behind. Nevertheless, one thing they should never forget. They have given up two years of their life to serve the unprivileged, the world, and their own country. They will forever be remembered and identified as “Returned Peace Corps Volunteer” (RPCV) for the rest of their life; a designation only a small handful of American has the privilege to be given.

For all the AZ6s who have completed their service, I wish you all a safe journey home!

Chi S. Chan, CPA
US Peace Corps Volunteer
Azerbaijan 2009-2011

Umm, I like how it looks

My Life in Azerbaijan - Not "so lovely" Encounters

October 8, 2010

The weather has been cool and damp. It rains often and the route I walk on now is nearly deserted. All the teahouses are closed for the winter and most of my Azeri friends do not come out to greet me. I guess they are in “Hibernation”. I think I ought to be a more careful or I should change my route to avoid some of the quietest areas. These past couple weeks, I had some “not so lovely” encounters during my daily walk. Even thought I did not feel an immediate danger, I should have taken precaution.

One section of my routine walk passes through a dense wooden area. It has a little hill and is well hidden from the main path. Usually I feel very safe in this secluded spot because summer time, young Azeri lovers hide here to have their privacy. I like to walk here because of the hill. There are not many hills in the park, so I take full advantage of this section for my exercise.

Few days ago, I climbed up to this hill as usual. Half way to the top, I heard a man shouting “Kıtçay”, (means Chinese). His voice did not sound friendly, so I hurried up to the top. I could hear him running after me and repeating the word “Kıtçay”. The minute I reached the top, I looked back and saw this man with dirty suit and fuzzy hair racing up to me. I felt the goose bumps all over, so I surveyed around me and “dam!” no one was nearby. Immediately, I started to run and luckily the man was in no shape or form to compete with me. He lagged behind. Once I kept my distance, I held up my phone and told him I was calling the police, so he stopped. He was angry, continued shouting “Kıtçay” waving his hand with a bottle of liquor, jumping up and down. He was drunk. I should have called Jeyhun, our PC security officer, but I did not...

Yesterday, another Azeri man approached me by the park entrance. His style was entirely different but it scared me as well. I met this man few days ago, he introduced himself to me and I felt his friendliness, so I chatted with me and told him about my Peace Corps story. He was on his forty but he looked much older. (most Azeri look older than their real age) He dressed well, had arrogant attitude, he probably was quite well off. I did not recognize him right away, so when he walked towards me, I just said “Salam”. He stopped in front of me and blocked my way, and then he said.

Mən sənə xoşlayıram, .....mənim seviləm....” (I like you.....my lover...)

I did not catch 100% of what he said, but I understood some of the words which made me feel very uneasy, especially the word “seviləm”. So I explained to him my Azeri was very poor, I did not understand. He at once repeated the sentence with a much more firm tone of voice and put two figures next to each other to clarify his meaning, this time I caught another word “istəyirəm” (want). Now I was sure I understood him correctly. Nevertheless, I pretended I did not. Politely, I said “Sag olun” (goodbye) and walked away. He went on saying something to me, but I could careless, just continued walking.

Finally, it was this crazy young fellow, who kept saying “I love you, I love you, I love!” every time I met him. He is Russian man who loves to meet foreigner. Carol and I met him once months ago, and he remembers me. I know that he did not mean any harm, just expressed his friendliness in a wrong way. He did try to grab my arm and asked me to dinner once, I just told him that I was married and that was the end of it.

Again, with three different encounters, I still did not feel unsafe. Most Azeri men I met were very friendly and courteous. There are bad apples in every tree, so I am not going to lock myself inside my own apartment just because of those incidents. Usually I have my cellular phone with Jeyhun’s number ready, as soon as I press the “send” button, Jeyhun and I will be connected.

But starting tomorrow, I will take my daily walk earlier and avoid the quiet sections.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Autumn in Azerbaijan

October 2, 2010
There is only one word can describe Autumn in Azerbaijan, LOVELY, simply lovely. I used to think Autumn in New York was lovely, but now I would rather use the word “gorgeous” not “lovely”. Autumn in Azerbaijan processes certain loveliness that I was unable to see in the Autumn of New York.

What makes Autumn in New York “gorgeous” is the color, the multicolor foliage in the forest. Harriman state park, the place I often visited should be coloring with yellow, red, orange and green foliage at this time. Around the Figure Board Mountain, the hill side is carpeted with wild blue berry shrubberies. In Autumn, their leaves turn into crimson, similar to the red dye dress wore by a Chinese bride. In the forest, the foliage is bright yellow, when filtered by the sunlight, it transforms to dazzling golden, like the bright light encircled an angel descending from heaven. The Autumn color not only displays on the mountain, it also mirrors on the lake surface, can be found on the forest floor, and the bottom of every stream in the park. Combining with the dry weather and cool temperature, Autumn in New York is definitely gorgeous!

Here in Azerbaijan, Autumn has arrived few weeks ago. You hardly notice it since the temperature remains hot in the afternoon. I think it is the rain at night that marks the official entry of Autumn. The first rain arrived in the middle of August. Thunders and lightings rolled and rumbled throughout the night, then they completely disappeared in the morning, left no trace of the rain since it was totally absorbed by the bone dry desert floor. However, if you are insightful enough about nature, you can sense the difference. It is the morning air, less humid, less warm, with just a light touch of cool breeze. If you pay attention to the plants and trees, you can see them revitalize overnight. The long hot dry summer has tormenting them near to perish. Something at night creeps in quietly and injects them with a doze of remedy which gives them back a new lease of life. I can nearly hear them sing when I pass them during my daily walk. At last, it is the sun. Unlike the unbearable hot sun in the summer, the Autumn sun has just the right temperature. It does not burn you, it merely “tan” you, gives you the healthy chocolate color that you can not obtain from the weak Autumn sun in New York.

What makes Autumn in Azerbaijan so lovely is its gentle, subtle, peaceful, un-dramatic, unnoticeable arrival. One September morning, sitting by the kitchen window with a cup of coffee, I felt this sudden sensation, so unbelievable comforting, a feeling I did not quite experienced in my New York apartment. Then, I said to myself, “Ah, Autumn is here!” My PCV friends, Vivian, Meagan and Rikkie were here few weeks ago, they all sitting on the same spot, complimenting the same loveliness they felt. Another thing that makes Autumn so lovely here is the way in which the locals embrace Autumn. Autumn is the time when every household in my town stores, jars and pickles the summer fruits and vegetables for the winter. This traditional act I hardly saw in the city of New York. I found myself taking a great pleasure to learn it, to participate it and hopefully to bring it back with me to New York next December.

Just a few days ago by my neighborhood, I saw an old man holding a stick, pounding on an olive tree. Shortly, many olives scattered around the floor. One black shinning one landed on my foot, I picked it up and handed it to the old man. He thanked me with a warm smile, all the wrinkles on his face deepened. He held out his big cupped hands with lots of black olives, explaining to me how he would preserve them for his family. I left him with a lovely image lingering in my mind.

What I saw in him is a face with ancient culture, traditional Azerbaijan value that never died. It was a lovely encounter on one Autumn day in Azerbaijan!

My Life in Azerbaijan - Happy Anniversary !

September 29, 2010
Last year this day, I landed on this dusty soil of Azerbaijan, knew nothing about this country, its people and my fate with them. A year has gone by, and I am still here, learning about this country, its people and my fate with them. The feeling nevertheless is different now.

After living here for a year, I come to like this country and its people. I am particularly fond of the elderly one. Their facial expression, their appearance and their gesture still carry the ancient culture and reflect the old value that once governed their daily live. They are proud of their heritage, take pride of their national meals, national dance, national music, many other national “things” that they are still trying to educate me. The younger generation, however, favors the modern music, modern dance and the western foods.

Azerbaijan is becoming a modern country. If you walk around on the Sahil area of Baku, you would think that you are walking on the street of a European country. The big McDonald sign would further deceive you. Passing by the Caspian Sea everyday, I saw young people holding their cellular phone, chatting endless with their friends, hiding behind a tree, young couple hugging and kissing each other, doing things that are considered as “olmaz” (forbidden) by their parents.

I am old fashion, I like the tradition, the old value, but I also welcome the new, the change. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, one of our missions is to educate the Azeri people about America, its culture, its value. Working for the bank, I encountered many educated Azeri youngsters, who are eager to learn about America, a world outside of their own. Most of them express their desire to study abroad and further their education. They remind me of the time when I was at their age, full of ambition, building up so many dreams. They often seek my advice. Knowing that there would be many obstacles ahead of them, I simply told that: “Every dream is possible, if you work hard to pursuit it, it will someday become a reality, because I had done it! So

Dream it, plan it and do it.

Listening to their dreams, I am certain that it is my fate to be here….

My Life in Azerbaijan - Mid Autumn Festival

September 22, 2010

It is a full moon. Its bright orange color nearly blinds me tonight. Ah, it is the Annual Mid Autumn Festival. My hiking buddies must be at top of the Jackie Jones Mountain, hanging up the colorful paper lanterns, watching the moon, eating moon cake, drinking Jasmine Tea, and celebrating this annual special event. According to the Chinese lunar calendar, on August 15, the moon is the fullest and the brightest. There is a full moon every month, but if you pay more attention to the moon on August 15 (Chinese lunar calendar), you will notice the difference.

To me, the moon is like an old friend, accompanies me wherever I go. I saw this exact same moon when I was at top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, at the base camp of Mt. Everest, at the bottom of a canyon, and also on the balcony of my New York apartment. Here standing by the window of my Azerbaijan apartment, my old friend is here again, as bright, beautiful and warm as ever.

One thing is certain and the rest is lies;
The flower that once has blown, forever dies….

But the moon will be there for me until the day I lay rest.
I am not asking much of life; just want to find a person to be my friend for life….

The moon by my bedroom window
Illuminating the floor silvery below
Looking up to the moon
Remembering friends and family back home

Then, I think about an old friend far far away. I miss him dearly…..

My Life in Azerbaijan - Building a Little Dream

We are planning to buy the little house on the island, a small little house just big enough for both of us to retire there. Fifteen or twenty years from now, that place will be our get away place, away from the daily hassle and bustle city life.

I will have my flowers and bamboo grow by the balcony. Every morning, we will enjoy our breakfast right next to the bamboo tree, watch the sun comes out behind the mountain. Before the sun gets too hot, we will go to the harbour and purchase the fisherman’s daily catch, afterward, fetch some farm-grown vegetables from our neighbour, kill a capon chicken and make ready for a simple healthy dinner.

Skipping a nap, I will take a long walk around the island; the flesh ocean breeze will do my body good. Time permits, I will explore the little cave by the shore. Perhaps I will discover some hidden treasure left behind by the infamous pirate mentioned in the legend. Maybe more apt, I will visit the little ancient temple by the hill, wish for a happiness, prosperity and good health for both of us.

Before the sun loses its final colour, I return home with some wild flowers to decorate the table. If by any chance, a friend stops by for a visit, I will open a bottle of my favourite red wine and share with him/her the darkest secret of the night.

I am longing for that day to come. We shall care for each other, travel to our final journey and disappear into the night.

Let the past be the past, I finally understood….

My Life in Azerbaijan - Minority PCVs

September 11, 2010
I heard news about my fellow PCV, who is just as the same as I am; a minority PCV, is having a very tough time in her community. She was constantly being stared at, made fun of, and receiving harassments from boys, and finally Peace Corps has to relocate her, hopefully, to end her misery, or not.

Listening to her complaints from other PCVs, I realize that her problems are not uncommon. I encountered most hurdles she is experiencing, especially with those dreadful teenage boys. I was first angry, upset, then depressed, but I finally realized that unless I changed my attitude, the situation would never get better. After all, it was my problem, not their!

Seeing Asian PCVs, the locals never register in their minds that we are actually American. No matter how many times I told him, “I am an American”, they would just keep asking the same question until I explained to them that I am an American Citizen, which they would acknowledge. They are curious about me. Who is she? Why is she walking in our neighborhood? What is she doing here? Where is her family? Is she married? Where is her husband? Until and unless they resolve those “mysteries”, they will never leave me alone. But, never in a million years would they intentionally harm me. If they knew they were hurting my feeling, making me feel uncomfortable, they would have apologized or maybe even feel ashamed. Even the teenage boys, they never mean to be unkind to me. All they did was to get my attention, get me to talk to them so as to satisfy their curiosity. That is all.

Now, I am no longer troubled by their stares. As soon as they looked at me, I smiled and said my “Salam”. 99.9%, they returned with a smile and a “Salam”, even the teenage boys! They are actually very shy creatures. I make a lot of friends in my town due to my daily walk. A teenage boy who has been my friend since June works in a teahouse by the Sea. Few months ago, he saw me walk by his teahouse everyday and just kept staring at me or making fun of me with his buddies. One day, I stopped and smiled with a “Salam”. His face immediately turned very red, but he replied with a “Salam” and we began to chat. Once we were connected, he was thrilled to be my friend. He found every opportunity to introduce me to his teahouse friends, young or old. Once they all got to know me, they no longer stare at me, but greet me everyday with a “Salam”. Now I am their special friend from American. (or from China)

My word of advice to my fellow minority PCVs: You need to change your attitude, re-program your mind to view those stars and harassments as a “hello, I want to know you”. Remember, we are a PCV, an ambassador from American, a stone face will never win a friend! Be flexible, be patience, and have a sense of humor; the three most important qualities a PCV should always maintain. We will be here for another 14 months; it will go fast only if you enjoy your time here.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Contentment

September 9, 2010
The weather is just lovely lately. Getting up early this morning when the rest of the world is still asleep. Today is the Ramadan holiday, I am off from work at the bank, but still I love to get up before everyone. Sitting by the kitchen window, I feel the cool breeze. The air soothes me.

I have a big plan today. Egg plant is so cheap now so I bought 3 kilos (about 6.6 lbs) yesterday from the bazaar. It only costs me 1 manat (US$1.25). I am going to find a way to freeze them so I can preserve some of them for the upcoming winter. The yellow fig are everywhere in the bazaar, they are incredibly sweet. Few weeks ago, I made two jars of fig jam and I have been enjoying them with my toast every morning. I think I am going to make more today.


Last month, traveling to Turkey, I was taken by surprise to see my favorite flower (Night Blooming Cactus) growing in our fellow PCV home. The plant was not doing well. All the leaves were breaking due to the neglect. I bought one of the dying leaves home and it has roots now. It is ready to be planted. I think I will put it in the soil today. Afterward, I will go to the courtyard and play with the children, show them my Colgate Project and teach them how to brush their teeth. In the afternoon, I will work on my book. Yes, I am writing a book, my life journey. I hope when it is finished, I will have enough audiences to read it. Life seems to get better each day.

On my way to the bazaar, I look up to all the olive trees in my neighborhood. The plump green olives are getting bigger each day. I don’t think I will ever live on a street with so many olive trees again. Suddenly, a strange feeling surges, I feel the contentment. I guess I am indeed enjoying the simplicity of life here, a goal I set out to pursuit before I arrived.

I think I will miss my life in Azerbaijan……

My Life in Azerbaijan - Ramadan & Fasting

August 30, 2010
Ramadan is the Islamic month of fasting. Although not every Muslim in Azerbaijan fasts, one of my co-workers Muhammad has been fasting everyday. Since I read the “Arabian Sands” five years ago, I have been enthralled by this religion, impressed by the Muslim people’s indubitable faith of Allah. Today, I decided to join my co-worker Muhammad and experienced this special event, refraining from eating and drinking from dawn until sunset. Let me tell you, not eating is bearable, but not drinking for 14 hours, my body was not reacting so well. By 3:00pm, I was so weak that I wanted to quit. I have to give Muhammad a lot of credits. He has been doing it everyday since August 11 and will continue until September 12, 2010!

Muhammad is a devoted Muslim. He read the entire Koran (Quran) when he was a little boy. He can quote every verse in the entire 114 chapters of the Koran. After showing him my desire to learn his religion, he sent me a copy of Koran (English version) and has been very helpful to guide me through some of the chapters. Most of my friends in New York always associate Muslim with terrorists. They stereotype this group and make sarcastic statements about them. After September 11, many injustice treatments were placed upon them. Recent event in New York City denying their right to build a mosque two blocks from the twin towers is just another example.

Four years ago I traveled to the desert of Sudan with five Muslim camel men. I witness their loyalty to Allah. Five times a day, they stopped whatever they were doing and prayed. With no water to wash, they used sands to clean themselves and knelt before Allah with the utmost affection. For them God is reality, and the conviction of his presence gives them the courage to endure. Fasting in Ramadan is a test of their self-restraint. Muslim, no doubt is a very proud race with strong spirit, believes an eye for an eye, and seems to have little regard for human life. This is the solemn side of their character. Nevertheless, they love poetry, are able to give natural expression to their feeling by a poetic form; this peaceful side of their people is frequently overlooked. As I get to know about their religion, my admiration to their people grows ever more. For that reason, I am willing to fast just for one day to show my respect.

I hope in the future, I will continue to observe this “self-restraint” exercise, not only for the medical and physical benefits but for the spiritual benefit as well.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Another Cold Winter

August 29, 2010
After the heavy rain storm from last week, the weather remains relatively cool. Yesterday when I took my evening walk, I also noted that the sun began to set earlier, indicating autumn is underway, before long it will be winter. The path I walk on will soon be deserted.

I have made many friends along this path; teahouse owners, shop keepers, street vendors, little kids on the playground and a group of distinguish elderly retired Azerbaijan gentlemen. I will miss seeing them in the winter as all the teahouses will be closed, shop keepers and street vendors will no longer selling summer fruits and vegetables, kids and the elderly men will stay inside their homes to avoid the bitterly cold. I, however, will continue to walk on this route with solitude.

Unlike last year, I am well prepared for the upcoming winter. My landlord has provided me with a brand new heater, plus two big boxes from my sister full of dried noodle soups, mixed sweet drinks and other nutritious foods have just arrived. I do not have to go to bed hungry and cold again.

hər şey yaxşı olacaq! (everything will be fine!)

I am in a much better condition than most AZ7s. Some of them live in a very remoted village and can only take a shower once a week, or even once a month. I have a very high regard for their tolerance, flexibility and patience, the best qualities of a Peace Corps Volunteer. The AZ8 is coming and I hope they can endure their first harsh winter as we all AZ7 did, with grace and dignity.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Rain of Love

August 22, 2010
Last night, my town had a big rain storm. Thunder rolled and jumbled, lightings threatened to split the sky into pieces, then the torrential rain followed. I welcome the rain. It breaks the unbearable heat, which has been tormenting most PCVs since the beginning of June. My rashes hopefully will finally heal as the heat and humidity decrease.

I fancy the rain. It always brings back sweet memory of my childhood; my grandmother, my sister, the small island we lived, sound of the bamboo leaves and smell of the jasmine flowers. Here is the poem I wrote long long time ago:

I often dreamed about my childhood time when,
the summer rain came late at night unexpected
Together with the lightning, thunder and wind,
Mixing with the sizzling sound of the bamboo leaves,
Awaking me, comforting me, and revealing me the secret of the “night”…

The storm brought in drops of rain,
Hitting the ceiling, splashing my window
Torturing the delicate white jasmine, and eventually
Snuck into my bed….

Curling up my body under a thin cover,

Unwilling to wake up from an already forgotten dream
Suddenly, a warm layer of blanket
Covering my shoulder,
Warming up my body and soul….

Fumbling in the dark, her aging figure
Fading away from my dream….
Outside my window
The bamboo leaves still complaining about
The insensitive wind, howling and howling….

My grandmother is in heaven now and my sister is thousand and thousand miles away. There is neither bamboo nor jasmine flower around, only I sitting alone and reading the poem of the past. I ponder; will I ever be loved so deeply, so unconditionally again?

My Life in Azerbaijan - Twin Sister

August 19, 2010
Among all the flowers, the Chinese night blooming cactus is my favorite. Its elegant stunning white flower, its fragrant, and its unique blooming behavior (only bloom at night for a few hours) all contribute to win the title as the best flower in Chi’s world.

Although I have seemed it bloom many many times, I never got tired watching it every summer. Around eight o’clock in the evening, little by little, the flower begins to open up, at the same time it starts to release its light fragrant, but by midnight, its flower starts to wither leaving its intoxicated aroma lingering into the night. I miss seeing my Chinese night blooming cactus bloom. Nevertheless, much to my surprise, I found its twice sister in Azerbaijan, only a few blocks away from my apartment.

One morning on my way to work, I passed by a courtyard where the summer flowers were in full bloom. Among them, a big white trumpet flower caught my attention. I took a few photos and determined to go back in the afternoon for another look. However, when I returned to the courtyard few hours later, the white flower already withered.

Not sure of its name, so I call it the “Morning Glory”. This flower do not have any fragrant but has the same unique blooming behavior as my Chinese night blooming cactus, blossom only a few hours in the morning. I figure it must be the long lost sister of my favorite flower, a twin which get separated many moons ago! I am glad to find it in Azerbaijan. Perhaps I will bring back some seeds and plant it right next to its sister.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Hospitability

August 17, 2010

Although the trip to Turkey was not as enjoyable as I would like due to the hot weather, I was delighted to meet the people in Turkey and impressed by their friendliness and hospitability. On two occasions, we were treated by the locals with kindness. They offered us assistance and invited us to join them with Çay (Tea).

After the 12 hours long bus ride, we arrived in Trabzon with no solid plan. We walked aimlessly the entire afternoon in the hot sun and were about to head to the bus terminal for another overnight bus ride. Three of us were carrying our backpack, looking very tired and searching for the bus station. Realizing we were lost, we stopped by a restaurant and asked for direction.

An elderly lady was sweeping the floor when we approached her with the question. First she looked at us with wild open eyes. Without sleep and shower for 24 hours and with the sweat drenched to our shirt, our appearance must have been so miserable that she took a pity on us. Instead of answering our question, she invited us to go inside the shop, led us to the table right next to an air conditioner and offered us tea.

“How much is the tea?” One of my companions asked. (I really wish she did not ask that question)

She did not give us the answer and walked back to the kitchen. Seconds later, the owner of the restaurant approached us:

“You will have tea and it is on me!” He said it in a firm tone of voice.

The elderly lady appeared again with tea and cookies; she smiled and urged us to rest. Soon, the owner came back with lots of maps. Since we could speak some Azerbaijani which is similar to the language of Turkey, we were able to communicate well with the owner. After we well rested, I offered to pay for the tea and the owner just absolutely refused to accept. When we were ready to go, the owner accompanied us to the street and pointed out the direction to our bus station. We thanked him whole heartily and said our farewell.

When I looked back to the restaurant, both the shop owner and the elderly lady were still standing there watching us. Recalling the e-mail message from the US embassy warning us the potential danger of traveling in Turkey, I could not help but dismissing it immediately.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Travel to Turkey

August 16, 2010
I have seen and met many young people travel months around the world with only their backpack, shoestring budget but manage to visit lots of countries. I envied them and wanted to do the same for quite sometime and I did it! However, I will never do it again.

In the company of two younger Peace Corps Volunteers, I traveled to Turkey with a 30 lbs backpack for 14 days. To save money, we traveled long distance with overnight buses, slept on a bench in an airport, and stayed 4 nights in cheap hostel. Most of the time, we had only 2 meals a day. We avoided expensive restaurant, ordered meal with no beverage, took advantage on hostel that offered free breakfast and dinner. The two weeks we were in Turkey, the heat wave dominated the entire country so we sweated like a pig walking in the hot sun everyday. By the end of the trip, I ended up losing 5 lbs. After living like a vagabond for 14 days, I was relieved, happy and glad to finally sleep on my clean bed again. As for how much money I spent, without counting the expensive caviar I bought for my friends, I only spent 650 manats, of which 75% is related to bus tickets and taxi fare.

What I dislike the most about this kind of traveling is the long hour bus ride. Our longest bus ride was from Istanbul to Batumi. We were on a bus 20 straight hours! From Tbilisi to Trabzon was 12 hours ride, after walking aimlessly in Trabzon to kill time for six hours, we got on a bus again and traveled another 13 hours to Goreme. Staying in Goreme only 2 days, we headed to Olympos with another 11 hours bus ride and ended up staying there only one night. If we traveled by plane, we would have done more sightseeing, visited more places and be able to stay in one place longer so as to learn more about the native cultures and enjoy the local cuisines. On the other hand, I am glad I did it. I do not believe many people with my age can travel like this! I have to give myself a lot of credits.

Peace Corps experience taught me to be flexible, to have patience and never forgot a sense of humor. I exercised all of those things while I was in Turkey. I did not lose my temper once, nor did I grumble about the primitive lodging, bitch about the hunger, the heat and the unpleasant body odor. I am even glad to have the opportunity to sleep in a windowless room with 16 other boys and girls who were all wearing nothing but their underwear at night due to the unbearable heat. I have proved to myself once again that I am a true survivor! Nevertheless, I am looking forward to my next trip which I will travel by plane, stay in a nice hotel; dine with exotic foods, drink good wine, enjoy a bubble bath and have sweet memories afterward.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Life after Peace Corps

July 29, 2010
The world renowned Chinese architect I.M. Pei is a friend of my friend. I am always proud to have that remote connection with him, no matter how vague that association is. The first time when I learned about him, I like him immediately. Mr. Pei and I actually share a lot of things in common.

First, we are Chinese, grew up in HongKong, educated in and immigrated to America, had a career in New York and most of all, we both have the deepest passion for nature, we love plants; sensitivity that we were lucky to have. Because of that, we see and feel things around us differently from most people, we are passionate to do things that we believe in and vigorously pursuit our dreams without considering cost. I found myself liking him as if he is a grandfather I never had.

Two days ago, I saw him on TV again. 93 years old, he is still very alert; his mind is as sharp as a young man. When was asked what his greatest fulfillment was, surprisingly it was none of those well-recognized architectural designs he built. He simply answered that it was his family where he found happiness and contentment. His answer awakens me. I have pondered about my life after Peace Corps for quite sometimes. Staying in Azerbaijan, take the bank’s job offer or returning to New York, go back to the pressure lifestyle once more, I could not decide. Today, Mr. Pei’s answer has given me some ideas.

I ran away from home since I was a young girl, I was profoundly upset by the inequitable treatment between a son and a daughter in a traditional Chinese family. My elder sister is the only person I miss back home. I have left her to face the unfair treatment alone for a long time. Thinking about her often brings tears to my eyes. I spent most of life in America, have accomplished many dreams. Although my biggest dream which I have been chasing after for 18 years, has not yet become a reality. Considering all the effort and love I have put in to foster that dream, yet I have no regret for letting that dream die, I have done my best. After all, we cannot have everything in life, can we?

Lately I have been longing to go home, like the weeping willow tree, the taller it grows, the more its branches touch its roots. My root is in HongKong, where my sister and I will care for each other, where as Mr. Pei said, I will find happiness and contentment.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Watermelon, I made a bargain!

July 20, 2010
Watermelon is in season now. In front of every vegetable stand, there are piles of watermelon on display. They are very cheap, about 0.3 manat per kilo (13 cent per lb) and they are sweet and juicy. In a hot summer night, eating a slide of chill and succulent watermelon is like drinking an ice cold beer. As a woman, I am not allowed to purchase beer in this country, so I settle with a slide of watermelon every night.

Yesterday during my routine walk, I passed by a vegetable stand attending by a group of children between age 7-12. They are very cute, helping their father to sell melon. As soon as they saw me they started to cheer and say “salam”. By now, members of my community become accustomed to my present. They see me walk by their neighborhood everyday; shop owners, street vendors, teahouse customers, butchers, chefs from nearby restaurant and children from the playground, all come out and wave with a “salam”, even the homeless dog would wag his tail and bark at me. I do feel like a movie star sometimes. This group of kids tried to sell me their watermelon. I told them I only had 1 manat (US$1.25) and could not afford to buy a big one.

“Problem yoxdur” (no problem)

They said and then pointed to a rotten melon on the floor and laughed. I pretended getting mad and started to walk away. Then, the elder kid pulled me back and picked a small one for me. He weighted it on the scale and said it was 1 manat. I did not believe him because I saw the scale register as 0.98 manat. So I pretended to get mad again. Of course, they laughed and giggled and discussed among themselves for a few seconds. Finally, they picked a bigger one which weighted more than 4.0 kilo. They wanted 1.2 manats for it.

“Mənim bir manatim var” ( I only have 1 manat!)
“yaxşı yaxşı” (ok, ok)

One of the boys took my manta and gave me a big grin; showing his missing front tooth. (He is really a cute boy) As soon as I turned around with my melon, I could hear more laughs, giggles, and whispers. I was afraid they sold me a bad melon, so I turned around and asked them again,

“Pisdir?: (bad melon??)
“Yox, yox! (No, No!)

Slowly I walked away, still hearing more laughs, giggles and whispers behind me. I should be the one laughing, thinking that I made a bargain, but I do feel guilty taking advantage of those innocent boys.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Appearance

July 18, 2010
Appearance is everything for the Azeri people. They are obsessed by keeping their shoes spotless clean even in a rainy day with mud everywhere and they care very much how their hair look. Azerbaijan must have the highest concentration of hair saloons in the world. I count my street, it has eight hair saloons! They must also iron all their clothes! I receive Peace Corps monthly newsletter today, and I have to laugh. One section is written to remind us the importance of bringing a napkins/rag with us on a muddy day so we can clean our shoes!

However, if you go to the Azeri home and look at their toilet, it will make you sick. The urine smell never seemed to bother them, the dirt on the floor, the leaking pipes, the broken toilet seat (if it has one, usually it doesn’t), the un-flushable toilet bowl, the filth on the wall, the insects, the oxidized showerhead, etc., are all acceptable conditions to them. My previous host family has a western type toilet; it is brand new, clean but only for display. When they have to do their “dirty” business, everyone use the “shit hole” outside the house. That “shit hole” is covered with yellow stains, permeated by smelly odor and the place has no light. At night, they just bring a flesh light with them. I can never understand it.

I agree with Vivian’s comment about the importance of our “nest”, a home where it gives me comfort, privacy, shelter, and a place where occasionally we can escape from the outside world. For that reason, I try my best to keep my apartment clean. However, keeping my Azerbaijan bathroom clean and fresh has been a challenge to me. No matter how much I clean, bleach and scrub, it can never smell as fresh as my bathroom in New York. The problem is due to the old and leaky pipes up stair of my neighbor. Instead of fixing those leaky pipes and getting ride of the odor, my landlord simply covers the ceiling with an artificial ceiling. It is just a matter of time when those pipes eventually burst and the entire ceiling collapses and my bathroom becomes one big “shit hole”. I hope that day will not come until next year December, or I have to take an ET (early termination). Other than this, my life in Azerbaijan is fine.