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.