Goodbye Sumgayit, Goodbye Azerbaijan

Goodbye Sumgayit, Goodbye Azerbaijan
Sizi heç zaman unutmarım (I will never forget you)
November 8, 2011

Entering to the Park, I notice the season is changing. Around me, fallen leaves swirl about with each breeze from the Sea. Inside the park, some yellow leaves have blackened, and some trees stand bare and silent. Soon the winter will be here, but I won’t.

These past two years whenever I felt glum and impotent, I would go for a walk/run in the park. The park never failed to lift my spirit. It was also inside the park that I met many friendly Azeri elders. I enjoyed watching them dozing off on a bench, drinking tea under a tree, chattering with acquaintances, playing with their grandkids or casually walking towards the sunset. For them, life in Sumgayit is neither dull nor harsh for it is the only life they know. They have little knowledge of the outside world other than their own.

Sumgayit, the town I called home for the past two years, is a small dusty little suburban area with population less than 300,000. During the Soviet time, it was a notorious, highly polluted industrial place. Even today, you can still see factory ruins and abandoned Russian compounds everywhere. Sumgayit is definitely not a popular tourist destination like Baku, Ganja, Sheki or Mingachevir. At times, when the living conditions were so harsh, especially during the winter months, I hated it here. Yet, slowly I developed a tolerance for this place, even affection. Maybe because here, something of the old ways still survive.

Every weekend, I was eager to go to the Bazaar, not only to buy foods but to smell and feel the excitement of the Azeri life. It was the hustle and bustle aura of the Bazaar that magnetized me. Street vendors and farmers came from far places selling their fresh fruits and vegetables, howling and yelling to market their products. With my broken Azerbaijani and a foreign face, I frequently attracted their attention, sometimes even unwanted type. Passing through my favorite bakery, with the aroma of freshly baked brick oven bread, I never could resist buying a piece. I don’t think I will ever forget that earthly taste, smoky flavor and burnt smell.

From a far distance, a familiar evening call to prayer brings me back to the present. This hauntingly beautiful cry echoes mellifluously around me. I again, look to the elders in the park. In spite of having so little in their retirement, they seem contented. After all, they believe their lives should be defined by not having lots of material things but by having many healthy grandchildren. When the sun begins to set, I take a last glance at the Caspian Sea. I can not help but wondering how many people in their lives time have the opportunity to see this inland Ocean. How privileged I am to stroll by its shore everyday for the past two years. I watch the glory sunset on the horizon and the peaceful image of the Azeri elders. The mystical ancient chanting resonates; the harmonies of this place are coalescing in my mind. I walk home with heavy emotion knowing that the end of my life in Azerbaijan is near.

Although I always feel the lure of far places, but today I am longing to go home. Tomorrow, I will be leaving Sumgayit and begin my long journey home and, at the stroke of midnight November 9, 2011, I will forever been called as RPCV ((Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). The title, I am proud and deeply honored to earn.

Chi S. Chan,
United States Peace Corps Volunteer
Azerbaijan 2009-2011

My Life in Azerbaijan - Autumn Rain

October 1, 2011

I was awakened by the distant sound a rolling thunder. It is nearly dawn but the sky outside my bedroom window is still gloomy and depressing. Lightning repeatedly flashes and thunder mutters ominously. I don’t want to get up, just lying in bed contentedly and listening to the sousing downpours of the rain.

Rain in this part of the world usually goes as quickly as it comes, but not today. By 11:00am, rain still comes and not wanting to go. I always have a rain fixation. It may seem inconvenient to go outside in the rain, but I do not mind remaining indoor; observing how the rain transforms the world.

First, it is the air. Rain washes the air heavy, fragrant. I find its smell irresistible. Then, it is the sound of the rain, the rhythm that it creates; the gentle tapping resonances on a rooftop, on tree branches, on leaves, on earth. It is prodigiously soothing, hypnotic, soporific and comforting. Wind turns out to be, if anything, even more magnificent. Here in Baku, the notorious gale often intensifies a rain storm. I watch the 70 feet tall giant cottonwood in my courtyard swinging back and forth ferociously as the gale grows fiercer. Leaves are drenched with rainfalls which help to wash away months of cumulated summer dust. I often wonder where the birds are, where they are hiding, how they keep themselves dry and warm.

Then it is the after rain. When the pale sky begins to brighten, slowly the chirping sounds of birds become audible. Patches of blue sky appear, sun peeks through dark clouds, and millions of diamond raindrops scintillating in its rays. Everything is brought back to life again.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Volunteer, a Life Time commitment

September 24, 2011

Years ago, I watched a special program on PBS and learned about a very touching story. A successful young eye doctor decided to give up her career in Europe and went back to her own country in Africa and helped those who had suffered years of unnecessary blindness. Accidentally, I saw her again on TV today, she is a bit older now but is still as energetic as the first time I saw her on TV.

Over the years, her story inspired many eye surgeons in the world. Once a year, they joined her and donated their service to help her people. She told the TV reporter that she was deeply humbled by their kindness. Some of the volunteers came from far places; and paid for their own plant ticket and brought their own supplies. Most of them came year after year. She continued to tell the reporter that when she first met those volunteer surgeons, they all had dark hair; today nearly all of them have grey hair. She laughed after she made that comment, but I found myself not laughing.

Before today, I convinced myself that serving the Peace Corps for two years; I had done my share of goodness to the world. After Peace Corps, I can move on to pursuit my own happiness with no guilt. Today, watching this young woman’s interview, I feel ashamed. These doctors have made volunteer work their life time commitment. They never thought of their action as “their share” of kindness to the world, they put no time limit as how many years of volunteer service they should do. They did it year after year for they believe in doing it. They have the true spirit of volunteerism. I am forever humbled by them.

Tomorrow, I will begin a search for my next volunteer work. Like those doctors, I will made volunteerism my life time commitment, whether it is just a few hours a week or once a month.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Director of my Bank

September 9, 2011

For the twenty months working at the bank, almost every week I could hear our director screaming at someone on the phone. Our director is a gentleman; he is always calm and polite to greet me in the morning. Sometimes I wish I could communicate with him better, he seems to be a man with knowledge, deep traditional culture and value. His yelling perplexed me so one day I decided to find out the reason of his anger from my co-worker.

My co-worker was embarrassed first, and then she explained. Our director is responsible to ensure all bank loans are paid on time. If a customer misses a payment, he has to call that customer to remind (more like “threaten”) him/her to pay. Most of the time, the call embarrasses or even terrorizes the customer. In Azerbaijan, most folks still hold on to their traditional value; still believe in “not able to pay their debts” is a shame, a humiliation. More often than not, the director’s call works and the customer shows up next day to pay. If that customer still refuses to pay, every morning that customer will receive an even louder and angrier call from our director.
In America, it is considered unprofessional to threaten any customer. If a customer misses a payment, it is not a big deal. A friendly computerized notice will reach the customer and remain him/her to pay. If the customer is behind the payment more than six months, then the account will be handed over to a collecting agency or bank attorney for legal action. (Something like that order, not 100% sure) Neither the loan officer nor anyone at the bank would make any “threaten” phone call to a customer. Eventually, the loan defaults, the bank forecloses or sells the property. The entire processes may take months or year, and it costs the bank thousands of dollars.

I compare the two methods and could not help but wondering which method is more effective and efficient.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Job Hunting

September 8, 2011

News from AZ6 (the group left last year) that lots of them having difficulty finding jobs in the States. Some advised us to begin job searching as soon as possible, even before we leave for the States. I am a planner and I have started my job searching back in January. As of today, I have already sent out 65 Federal job resumes, received six potential interviews, two telephone interviews and in fact one job offer. The reply ratio is 9% and successful rate is 1.5%. When compared to others’, my response ratios are considered very high. One of the RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer) told me that he sent out 150 resumes and received NONE, yes zero response.

I was a little distressed when I received my 1st rejection letter. The rejection letter was just a standard computerized e-mail, no personal touch, plainly say “NO, thank you for applying”. After the 2nd, 3rd…. and the 50th negative response, instead of being upset, I simply joked around with the RPCV that 60 resumes down and only 90 more to go. By now, I am used to all the rejections but I am not giving up.

I never held a Federal job which could be a disadvantage. Federal job usually opens to veterans first, their spouses, disable applicants, federal employees, former federal employees, and finally candidates under special appointing authority, such as RPCV. Even I am an over-qualified RPCV candidate for the position, someone who is a “Status” applicant and meet the minimum education or experience requirements, he/she will be considered for an interview before me. All and all, I am on the bottom of the list but slightly better than average non-status US citizen.

Another thing I want to point out is the application process, from the time you send in your on-line application to the time you receive (If you do receive) a response, average time span is 45-60 days, sometimes it is even longer. My country director told me that she did not hear about her application until 9 months later. On top of that, writing a Federal Resume and KSAs (knowledge, abilities and skills) essay are exasperating. You have to use the exact wordings on the job description to prepare your resume. Every resume is first screened by computer, not someone from HR. If you don’t use the language that the computer is expecting, your resume will not be picked up for further review. That means each job you apply requires a customized resume. It took me six months to become proficiency in my Federal resume writing. Now I have set up three standard resumes: one for Accountant, one for Budget Analyst and one for Financial Analyst position. Each time I apply for a new opening, I just have to revise some wordings to match with those on the job description.

Finally, the technical and assessment questionnaires, which can add up to a hundred questions to answer. I usually print them out, study them and use the questions to adjust my resume as well. All these never ending processes add up to many frustrations. A lot of people did finally give up.

But I am not giving up. I will continue applying for that Federal “Dream” job. I truly believe that if I work hard, I shall be rewarded. In addition, I really like President Obama; and I love to help him to straight out the Federal Budget. :-P

My Life in Azerbaijan - Strong is Beautiful

September 12, 2011

I was watching the US Open on Azeri TV. It was the final match and Stosur from Australia won the championship. As I looked at both players: Williams and Stosur, I could not help but noticing physically how strong both of them are. Their arms and legs are muscular, tanned and with athletic curvature. Maybe according to the Hollywood standard, they are not feminine enough to be called beautiful. To me, they are striking, eye-catching, stunning.

I have always admired athletes: sportsmen, dancers, runner, and mountaineers. How discipline they train every day in order to achieve most human beings cannot accomplish, how determine they are in order to win the competition. They are mentally and physically powerful, have strong will and restraint. To me, they are exceptional human beings.

Most my friends in New York my age are either over-weighted or completely out of shape. Their muscle is drooping everywhere with floppy stomach, sagging bottom and wilting figure. Numerous times, I advised them to take good care of their bodies, do moderate exercise; tune up their muscle, and to be physically and mentally healthy. Middle age women do not have to grow old like a piece of “SHIT”. With daily exercise, we can look as well as younger women. We should all grow old with grace and dignity. Unfortunately, my friends’ altitude is “Why bother, men don’t even look at me any more”. I got frustrated every time I heard this. Why we continue to allow men defining us?

We all should insist on having a quality life; a healthy, independent, productive, and happy one. Human life span is very short and I wish I could live a hundred, two hundred or a thousand years longer and experience more of what life has to offer. Unfortunately, I could not so I must live every second of my life to the fullest. In order to do that, I have to be emotionally and physically energetic, this drives me to go out everyday; run, walk, climb, jump, smile, and be active.

After a prolonged rain, the sun finally came out yesterday. I watched the sun peered through dark clouds, suddenly it came into full view on the horizon, hitting the earth like thunder! Life is beautiful!

My Life in Azerbaijan - Little friend from Azerbaijan

September 3, 2011


Even Peace Corps discourages it, but every year, one or two PCV would bring an Azerbaijan animal home, usually it is either a cat or a dog. Not only it is a very costly arrangement, it is also a tiresome process, tons of paperwork to fill. Dog and cat are not well cared for by the Azerbaijani and it is not difficult to understand. Some Azerbaijani do not even have enough money to feed their kids; so how can they afford to treat an animal as well as the way the American do. Personally, I would never go through all these trouble to bring an animal home. However, I fully understand why someone would do that.


Few months ago, while I was running by the park, out of nowhere, a little yellow object leaped out from behind a bush. I was startled by it and my immediate reaction freighted the little creature as well. It, in return, ran back to the bushes and peeked at me coyly. When I finally realized that was a puppy no more a month old, I approached it with extreme gentleness. The puppy was still afraid of me but its curiosity overcame its fear, slowly he came out from the bushes, hopping up and down to greet me. The little thing was just a ball of furs, so tiny, so cute and so adorable. But as I got closer to it, I saw ticks covering the puppy’s head and body. I was sick to my stomach. The puppy was abandoned by its mother and it desperately needed affection. I wanted to touch him so badly but I would not dare, just left him there with those “begging for attention” and innocent eyes.

For the next few days, I continued seeing him, each time, he greeted me with the same eagerness and affection, and each time, I avoided him. After a week or so, I did not see him anymore and I just assumed that he was death (most dogs in Azerbaijan end up that way).

Few days ago, I came to the same area and met an old lady with a dog. The dog seemed to be very happy to see me. He kept using his feet to touch mine. I did not recognize it first but as I looked into its eyes, I saw that innocent look again. It was the same dog! He was adopted by this kind Azeri grandmother. He was tick free and had grown much bigger but it was still a playful puppy. The following day, I brought him a bone. As soon as he saw me, he ran so fast to greet me, again hopping up and down to show its affection. I told him “otur” (to sit), and he understood! He let me took a photo of him. My heart just melted. It was lucky that this puppy was adopted or I had to worry about leaving him behind.

Now I am seriously thinking about getting a dog or a cat when I get home! Hum……

My Life in Azerbaijan - Reflection of My Peace Corps Dream

I chewed over this statement for a long time:

“Peace Corps was a lovely idea-for idle and idealistic young Americans. Gave them a chance to see a bit of the world, learn something. But as an effort to “improve” the lives of other peoples, the inhabitants of the so-called “underdeveloped nations, it was an act of cultural arrogance. A piece of insolence.” - Edward Abbey

Edward Abbey is my idol but when the first time I read this, I was angry. What did he know about Peace Corps, he had never been a Peace Corps volunteer! Now as my Peace Corps dream approaches to an end, I can not help but brooding over his statement once again, and this time, to a certain degree, I agree with Ed.

Recently, I read an article written by Paul Theroux, a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) served in Malawi in the 1960’s as a English teacher, his reflection of Peace Corps experience somewhat resonates Ed’s opinion:

“My teaching had its uses for them, but what I taught was negligible compared to what I learned.....most people would not see what I saw in Africa: the resiliency of the people. Africans knew neglect, drought, flood, bad harvests, hungers, disease…..and yet in the face of these adversities they had developed survival skills, and prevailed….today... despite forty years of volunteer efforts, Malawi is probably worse off than it was back in 1963…”

So what is the point of Peace Corps?

“I became a teacher in Africa and my whole life changes. I was happier; I had a purpose…… I was becoming the person I wanted to be, not just a young man with a job but someone developing a sensibility....”

The time I spent in Azerbaijan, without a doubt has a greater impact on me than on the people whom I was trying to help. How much I have changed since I set foot in this “underdeveloped” country. I know I can tolerate a much higher degree of discomfort, no regular running water, gas or electricity is not the end of the world. Having lived with people with so little material provisions, now I can go home and be happy to live simple. I don’t need a high paying job; I can survive with less income. I don’t have to live in a luxury two-bed room condo. I can be just happy to live in a cozy studio. I don’t have to drink Starbuck coffee, eat imported cheese, and indulge with expensive wine. I don’t need fancy jewels and designer clothing to look good. I don’t have to compete with colleagues and friends. I don’t have to rush going from point A to point B.

I will return to New York with a much lighter spirit. Three most valuable lessons I learned from my Peace Corps experience: be patient, be flexible, and always have a sense of humor. I have grown to love life with a different attitude, I become more sensible and understanding, learn to listen more, have less self-pity, care more about my community, friends and family, recognize there are many people in the world with real problems, be more supportive with their needs rather than constantly complain about my own problems. Life in Azerbaijan has made a profound difference in me.

As my Peace Crops journey comes to an end, and soon there will be more new faces (the AZ9) coming to Azerbaijan in October. I wish them well and my advice to them is another quote from Paul Theroux:

“…don’t make a mistake in thinking that you will make an important difference in the lives of the people you are among. The profound difference will be in you”.

Value your time here for it will forever change you. Good luck AZ9, and be a good Peace Corps Volunteer!

My Life in Azerbaijan - A Journey Home

August 28, 2011

Autumn has set in. For days the sky wept. During the entire COS conference, it rained everyday! but it was nice to see all my friends again. Perhaps this was the last time we would be together as a group. After the COS conference, one by one will leave this country and head home.

When the sun finally comes out today, the temperature drops to a very comfortable level. I think summer is officially over. It signals another beginning. With only two months left, I will be saying goodbye to this country for good. Deep down inside, I am aware that I will never come back here again……

Today, I begin systematically going through one drawer to another, sorting out things into three piles, items that I want to bring home, items that I can giving away to neighbors and items that should be discarded. Hard to believe that I have cumulated so much junks over the years. Lots of CDs that I used to love; now they become a burden to bring home. I will give them away to kids.

As I go through some old papers, I discovered a pile of package slips. Over the past two years, I have received more than 16 packages from friends and family. I purposely saved those slips to remind myself, how lucky I am to have friends and family supporting my Peace Corps mission. Their packages mean a world to me…..really…thank you all. I have to find a way to reciprocate their kindness someday.

A strange sensation emerges as I start preparing my journey home…….can not fully comprehend that emotion..…I think I am not the same person who left New York two years ago….I have changed and it frightens me.

My Life in Azerbaijan - The Beginning of the End

August 19, 2011

COS (Close of Service) conference is next week. The event marks the beginning process of the end of our Peace Corps commitment. Any “work-in-progress” project has to be wrapped up or transferred to the AZ8s. For the next two months, we, the AZ7s will be dealing with lots of administrative procedures, filing out tons of paper works and forms, scheduling medical checkup, sorting out our personal belongings, donating some of our clothing to charities, arranging travel plan, closing Peace Corps meager allowance bank account, attending the conference, exit meeting with our country director, telling our Peace Crops stories, exchanging good wishes to other PCVs and saying farewell to Peace Crops staffs in Baku, etc. It is hard to believe that the end of my Peace Corps journey is actually near. Time flies.

Few nights ago, I looked up to the sky and saw a plane flying out of Baku. I pictured myself on that plane looking down to this dusty town that had been my home for more than two years, sadness surged….…. Maybe because of the emotional stress, I became sick next day. I have not been sick for a long time. The daily exercise keeps me very healthy in Azerbaijan, but Friday morning, I woke up with a sore throat, running nose, and headache. Saturday, with 101 degree fever, I could not do anything except sleep and sleep. But 24 hours later, I fully recovered with just minor cough. In the past, a cold usually lingered 4-5 days, but now it only lasts 48 hours. I have grown much stronger physically. It all due to the daily run/walk. Exercise indeed does my body good!

When I return home, I will keep up with the discipline, exercise everyday. But I realize that something will be missing from that daily routine. For sure, there will no more olive trees growing along my running path, no more breezes blowing in from the Caspian Sea, no more “Salam” greetings from my Azeri friends, no more little kids running after me and definitely no more staring from a stranger.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Reflection

August 16, 2011

Vivian and Carol were my teammates during the pre-serving training. Over the past two years, we have developed close friendship. After the training, we went on our separate assignments. Both of them currently live in Ganja, about 5-hour bus ride from where I live. Nevertheless, we manage to stay in touch and try to visit each other as often as we can.

Vivi, (name that I give her) was once a famous “Party Planner” in Dallas, she had some impressive clients; like Ronald Reagan and Prince of Saudi. Even Martha Steward called her for an advice. I enjoy cooking with her. Carol, is the Yale graduated and schoolmate of Hillary Clinton. For the past few months, Carol has been my “resume writing” advisor. Vivi and Carol are very different. Carol is extremely intelligent, calm and rational. Vivi is funny, dramatic and emotional. I like them both. If I have to make a list of my best Peace Corps experiences, “Knowing them” has to be the top item on that list.

I always assume that Carol is “Book Smart” and Vivi is “Street Smart”. Today, I realize that I am wrong. Not only Viv is “Street Smart”, she is simply SMART. Here is section of Vivi’s daily journal about her life with Peace Corps:

“…It’s not that I am smarter, just that my mind is a lot more “open” than before. I still hear things in the news that just makes me scratch my head and run to the kitchen. But I think about humanity in a broader sense, about true differences in world cultures, deeper spirituality and everything that flows with it. It is incredible how you feel as you listen to the Call to Prayer 3 times a day. I always stop to reflect for a moment, even at 4:48 AM every single day. This hauntingly beautiful cry is not just about Muslims; it transcends the boundaries of religion for me and brings me to a peaceful place to consider “ME” and how I want to continue living. Since I am getting anxious to get home and start this new living, I need to keep listening to the Call and feel the patience (no urgency) in its cry. “

Somehow, Viv’s profound spiritual revelation frees me from weeks’ of self-inflicted despair, urges me to forgo the past and inspires me to continue living intensely and richly after Peace Corps.

Like Vivian, I also eager to start a new life.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Azeri Summer

The temperature in the sun is 54C, or 129F. Standing directly under the hot sun, you think your brain is melting. If my friends complain about the 90s degree heat in New York City, I would gladly exchange places with them just for one night here in Azerbaijan.

Azerbaijan is in the middle of summer, everywhere is hot, hot and Çox isti. Between the hours of 12pm to 4pm, the street is nearly deserted, not many living or non-living creatures around. Taxi drivers, construction workers and street cleaning ladies all nap/hide under trees, birds refuse to sing, cats stretch out with their flat belly on cool sands, policemen hide in teahouses, chickens burrow under bushes. Cars, trucks and bicycles are abandoned on shaded sidewalks. Not a single soul is willing to venture out in the open.

My balcony faces south. Normally if I open my balcony door, there is a light breeze flowing in directly from the north, which makes my apartment cool in summer. Three days ago, when I opened the balcony door, I noticed the shift of wind direction. The cool breeze was replaced by blast of hot air. Instead of blowing from the north, the sizzling wind charged in from the south. The temperature inside my apartment changed from warm to scorching hot. I could not sit, stand, sleep or walk. The boiling heat combined with high humidity liquefied me. I found every inch of my body covering with sweats. I stayed half-naked whole day inside my apartment. (Thank God, I do not have a roommate!) Repeated cold showers could not alleviate me from the agony. For once, I wish for winter. (I normally hate the cold) The heat lingered deep into the night, by midnight, my apartment remained hot like an oven. I lay wide-awake until dawn.

Remember once my Azeri friend told me that there were two kinds of wind blowing in Azerbaijan: the north and the south wind. The south wind is notorious for its high temperature. It sets off from the Saudi desert. Summer when it swifts through Azerbaijan, sometimes it can destroy crops and kill farm animals. These past three days, I have experienced its power. Once I understand what it is, my altitude towards the “devil heat” changes. Instead of hating it, I accept it, respect it and make peace with it.

“Harmonize with nature “

Another Chinese wisdom ricochets from memory.

Three days later, the wind changed direction. Now it is once again blowing from the north. What a relief! Even daytime temperature remains well above 110F, but if you stand under a tree or hide in a shade and do nothing, it is not so bad. By evening, with a light breeze, I can go out for my normal run. I, once again LIVE.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Kindness of my Neighbor

July 31, 2011

Right beneath my balcony is a mulberry tree. Summer time, its leaves over grow and its branches spread everywhere. My balcony is practically sitting on top of that tree. I really do not mind the tree. I enjoy watching its branches waving back and forth with each breeze from the Sea. When the afternoon sun is so strong and the temperature becomes unbearable, the tree with its broad branches casts a shadow to my balcony, creating a lovely and inviting place to sit and cool off.

However, the only problem is; my laundry wire intersects with the tree. Winter when the tree is bare, it is not a problem. Summer, I often find my laundries tangled with the branches. Last week I tried to use a long stick to knock down some overgrown branches, but in vain. I was either not strong enough or my arms were too short to reach the branches. Eventually I gave up. This morning, when I hang my laundries, I notice something different about the tree. I did not really become aware of it until I hang my laundries. The overgrown branches are no longer there. Someone, sometime during the week, when I was not around, quietly climbed up to the tree and cut down those branches for me.

When I first moved in to this small, dusty and antique apartment compound, I hated the attention. Kids would be chasing after me; housewives followed my moves and whispered endlessly about me, and men, of course, stared at me intensively. I tried to be graceful and said my “salam” to all of them. Overtime, slowly and surely they have accepted me. Today, I realize not only that they have accepted me, they actually adopt me, watch over me as well. Perhaps last Sunday, someone accidentally saw me struggling with the tree; he/she decided to give me a helping hand.

I am moved, deeply touched by his/her kindness. My eyes become watery as I hang my last piece of laundry on the wire. Thank you neighbor, whoever you are. I will ask Allah to watch over you and your family, like the way you have been watching over me.

My Life In Azerbaijan - Pain that I can not bear

July 18, 2011

Unexpected news arrives today from home....

Although I have long believed that time could heal all scars, today I can once again feel, deep and quick, the pain of a long distant past, the pain of a fruitless relationship, the pain of that day's parting in Philadelphia. The pain, for a moment over whelms me. It is the time like this that I wish I was not alone.... but I am, so I weep, cry and sob......

It was more than 18 years ago that we met. The memory of that moment had been imprinted vividly enough to last for all these years. I don't remember the granular detail, but I remember the essence of how it happened, and that is enough...

I will miss him, everyday of my life.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Climbing another Everest

July 15, 2011

Pick up a book from Peace Corps office, “My Everest Story”, it is a book about a young man climbing all the dangerous mountains since he was 13 years old. By the time he reached 16, he already acquainted with some of the best known climbers in the world, shared with them the hardship and the joy of Everest experiences. Although the book mentioned that he was just a regular kid, for me he is an exceptional human being. His philosophy of climbing is so different from that of other climbers. Mark Pfetzer is his name.

Mark and I have a few things in common. First, it is the dreams-to-reality ratio, we both score high. Similar to Mark’s belief, once I decide to take on a skill or an activity or a dream, I become committed. I learn, prepare and immerse myself so intensely that success is not only predictable but inevitable. A discipline, so many people I know is lacking. I wish there was a “Commitment” major in every university so the youngsters could learn the importance of holding on their dreams and not giving up easily. Reinhold Messner (a world renowned Everest climber) once said that climbing Everest is “Not strength”, he said, “but will. Will makes the body go up like an arrow”. A truism I found repeated often throughout my life - “If there is a will, there is a way”.

It was nearly 15 years ago that one of hiking club friends told me that she wanted to do something big. I was excited for her. After a while, I realized that was all talk. She did nothing to prepare for that “BIG” dream. Today, she is still moaning and groaning how unhappy her life is, how difficult to achieve anything. She blames her English, because she can not speak English well. I nearly wanted to ask her why she dropped out of her English class after just a few months. And today I saw similar problem exist among other PCVs. Some of them did not realize that coming to Azerbaijan is only the beginning of their commitment to Peace Corps, behaving like a truth Peace Corps Volunteer and remaining until the end of their service are the biggest part of their commitments. It is disappointing to see them quit so easily for whatever reason that they think is justifiable, or behaving like a typical “bad American” in front of the Azeri.

Again, it all comes down to “Commitment”, the simple secret to success. Joining Peace Corps was a big commitment that I made in 2006. Back then, I had to worry about a big mortgage, an obligation to my aging parents and a lot of consequences to consider before making that big step. It was a 3-year painstaking process, but I remained committed.

Today, nearly at the end of my service, I feel proud, another milestone, and other accomplishment I set out to do. Looking back the past 21 months, not a single moment that I thought about quitting. It has taken me so long to get this far, so quitting was, is and never will be my option, for I truly believe in Commitment.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Strange but it is True!

July 10, 2011
The temperature in the shade is 43C or 110F, not a drop of breeze in the air. What happens to the Baku gale? For two days, my town has been steamy hot like hell. In the afternoon, the entire street is deserted. You can find men, cats, dogs, chickens, ducks, cab drivers and street cleaning ladies all squat under a tree, any tree they could find just to escape the unbearable muggy heat. Maybe it is coincident; the authority decides to cut off running water from 10am to 7pm, so you have to clean yourself with your own sweat.

Days like this, you should stay away from local buses, walk rather than sit inside a crowded minibus with smelly Azeri men for they do not believe in taking shower everyday, even in a boiling hot summer. Most buses have air-condition, but they never intended to be used. If you try to open the window, the old lady sits next to you would order you to SHUT the window. If you refuse, someone would shame you. How could you offend an old lady! “Don’t you have a grandmother at home!” they said.

After running, I pass by a store to get a cold drink; sorry, the refrigerator is only for show. The drink is not cold, even the beer is hot. “You will catch a cold if you drink cold water” the store owner tells me. Now, I understand why those men in the tea house would drink HOT tea even they are soaking wet from the hot sun, why my co-workers roll their eyes when I told them I took cold shower in the summer, and why water melon is not chilled to eat, and why little babies are all wrapped up with layer of blankets in summer, BUT BUT BUT, they all love ice cream. Isn’t ice cream cold? They swim in the Caspian Sea, isn’t the sea water cold?

Would someone please explain all these to me?

(These kids are from my neighborhood, I love them, they are all out of school and love to say Hello! Hello! Hello! to me. )

My Life in Azerbaijan - Touching someone's Life

July 4, 2011
Early this morning, received a text message:

“My dear friend and teacher, u are the best, I now getting on the bus. I gonna leave home to army, I wont forget u, Bye, I love you”

It is a message from a nice young man. For a few months, we worked together on the “Junior Achievement Program Azerbaijan” project, helping six local high-school students to compete with the annual event. After the end of the project, I also helped him to finalize his college research paper. He has been treating me like his big sister, a mentor.

He is an upright, very good-natured young man: polite, passionate, gentle and kind. He speaks English very well but still wants to improve his level, so I ordered an advanced TOFEL book with CD from the US and gave them to him as a gift. When he held the book in his hands, he was nearly in tears. He wanted give me a big hug but it is an “Olmaz” in the Azeri society, so he kept telling me that he loved me. (I am sure, it is the friendship kind of love”) He just graduated from college this summer and has to join the army for one-year. Knowing that he probably would not see me again, so he texted me with his final farewell and made sure his family would be available for me if I need any help. I am touched, deeply moved by his gesture.

Nearly three years ago in Peace Corps New York regional office, I explained to the recruiter my motive to join Peace Corps. I told them that I did not expect that I could change the world or even change anyone’s life by joining the Peace Corps. However, if because of my present, somehow, someway, I touched one or two individuals’ lives, and had some impact on their future, I had done my job as a volunteer.

I know this young man’s life will never be the same again. Before meeting Susan and I, he knew nothing about Peace Corps, and had no contact with any American or foreigner. He confessed to me once that he had problem understanding why I was in Azerbaijan, why I would be willing to leave the comfort of my home, live in a foreign country, and work with strangers for nothing. However, he showed his admiration, and willingness to do the same for his country in the future.

I left him with Peace Corps contacts in Baku, hoping that next year when he returns from the army, he would apply for the LCF position and work with more Americans. He has a lot of potentials, just needs someone to unlock them and that is why I am here.

I still remember his smile, his tearful eyes……..I hope I will see him someday, I hope he will excel.

My Life in Azerbaijan - The Azeri Locals

June 25, 2011

Before joining Peace Corps in 2009, I worked for three multi international organizations and dealt with many senior executives. I have to admit, never once did I feel connected with them. Majority of them built a wall around them, remained “professional” all time and occasionally they tried to be personal or funny with me, nevertheless I did not feel their sincerity. One of them was a CEO, and he was alcoholic, used drugs to conceal his loneliness and desolation. Eventually he lost his job. Today, he still has money, but that is all that he has. Another executive I know is old enough to retire, but he does not know what to do with his retirement. He fears to sit and die alone at home. Years of climbing the corporate ladders have left these people in isolation. They have lost touched with others and most importantly, they have forgotten how to be human.

Contrary, ten years traveling abroad, I have met many working class folks, not so well-to-do locals. I found most of them were down to earth, warm, caring, had a sense of humor, and always generous and giving. Some of them were very poor, could not afford to be generous but were still willing to give. Their hospitality was the most genuine and they expected nothing from return. I met these folks in Nepal, in Venezuela, in China, in Peru, in Tanzania and in many remote parts of the world. Today, I met a few in Azerbaijan.

One of them is a street vendor, selling greens on a side walk, probably making just few dollars a day. Each time I passed him, he would give me the warmest greetings; hold my hands as if I was her closest relative. Another one is an amiable old man. I happened to pass by his home one day. He was tending his small garden, and I watched him picking fruits from his trees. As soon as he saw me, he grabbed a basket of fruits and offered them to me. His silver grey hair glittered in the afternoon sun, like the halo of an angel. They both were strangers to me, but somehow, I felt the connection.

Perhaps that is why I choose to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. It gives me the opportunities to connect with people like them; kind, generous, still have the old value, culture, still believe in happiness could derive from simple life.

Another four months, I will have to return to that strange cold place where I once called home. I am beginning to have fear…….

(local summer fruit, they are sweet, sweet and sweet)

My Life in Azerbaijan - Scallion Pancake, Flower and Coffee

June 11, 2011

The plant I brought back from Georgia last summer is growing nicely. Two weeks ago, I discovered a small bud. I was elated. Every morning, I gave my plant a cold shower, and watched the bud getting bigger and stronger. Last night, it finally bloomed.

This plant is similar to the one that I had in my New York apartment. They have the same type of leave. My plant in New York only bloomed at night and the bloom usually lasted just a few hours. It died around midnight. The size of the flower is enormous and it is absolutely beautiful. (I know, all flower is beautiful to me). This one appears to be slightly different, but I am sure they are related to the same family.

Yesterday morning, I noticed the tip of the flower burst; it is a sign of “ready to bloom”. I brought it inside and took pictures of its every move. By 10:00pm, the flower opened up more, now I could see the hollow inside the flower. When I went to bed, the flower was still alive and this morning, I found the flower grew even bigger. She said “salam” to me. I was having a wonderful morning.

To make my morning even better, I decided to make some scallion pancakes (all of PCV friends know I make the best scallion pancake) to go with my coffee. I had my plant next to me. We enjoyed each other’s company, ate pancake, drank coffee and had a fabulous time.

Remember what Edward Abbey once said: “We can never have enough of nature”. Amen. Amen and AMEN!

My Life in Azerbaijan - One Stormy Night in Azerbaijan and...

June 8, 2011

Clouds are gathering, storm begins to build but it has not rained yet. Soon I can hear the thunder mutters ominously in a distance, lightning flashes and the storm moves closer. Suddenly a clap explodes directly overhead and lightning pierces the gloom. Eventually clouds burst, rain begins to fall. At first, tentatively, soon, gaining confidence, heavily. Before long, rain lashing down in torrential sheets whips my bedroom window surface. I sit and watch the sky weeps. I LOVE rain!

No one whom I know is as enamored of a rain as I do. I always fancy the rain, especially the one that comes late at night. It has a steady and soporific rhythm that could induce me not only to sleep but also to dream…..

Outside, loud peals of thunder crash and reverberate in the darkness. Rain continues to come streaming down. I close my eyes and eager to start my dream….. I hope tonight, I will see my love ones again.

Wake up early in the morning, already forget the forgotten dream. Look outside the bedroom window, the sun gleams out of ragged clouds, birds are singing and rain, no more. I open the window to let in some fresh air, a horrible odor hits me, it is the raw sewage again! I should have known better. Every time when it rains, most of the alleys and streets in my neighborhood would be flooded. All the “ugly & smelly” stuffs would ooze out from underground and inundate the sidewalks. The pipe systems in Azerbaijan are abysmal and they desperately need to be replaced, but it is not the priority of “X” (not allowed to criticize per PC policy). I shut the window and try to make myself a cup of coffee and ……NO WATER!

Oh well, I do not get frustrated anymore. Occasionally no water, no electricity and no gas are just part of daily life here in Azerbaijan. The only thing that bothers me is the water bill; it was once 0.8 manat ($1.0) and now is 2.32 manat ($3.0).

I dry clean myself a little, pick up a book and begin to relax. It is a book about nature, my kind of book, and a story about rain, my favorite subject!

I still LOVE rain, even here in Azerbaijan….

My Life in Azerbaijan - Flattered but NO!

June 1, 2011


It was six months ago that I first met this Azeri gentleman in the park. At first, he just stared at me, few days later; he began to say “salam”. Few weeks later, he stopped me and started talking to me. Although I could not fully understand what he was saying, I could hear some “danger” words, like “chox” (very much) “sevimli” (love) “xoshma gelin” (like), cay ichmek (drink tea). Watching his expression, I further convinced myself that I had understood him correctly. I was very flattered, but did not like those words at all. If he were an Asian man, I probably would tell him to get lost. I did not want to hurt his feeling, so politely, I told him “thank you, thank you” “don’t like tea, No” and “goodbye”.

One spring day, running by the sea, I saw him again. He was with a group of Azeri gentlemen. This time, he did not stop me, just waved and said “salam”. As usual, I said my “salam” as well. Couple of days later in the same wooded area, we met again. This time, he was alone, in fact, he was waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he approached me and started using those “danger” words again, and this time, he used them a lot! With my broken Azerbaijani, I tried very hard to explain to him that I was married (of course I lied). He understood me all right, but still was reluctantly to let me go. His body language was telling me that “yes, you are married, I am married, so what”. Oh good God, I was embarrassed. Before I had a chance to run away, he held my hand and started kissing it. IT IS AN OMAZ! (Forbidden in Azeri society).

Now he was holding both of my hands, grinning at me, showing me all his 24k gold teeth. (that means he is quite well off) Maybe for the Azeri women, he is a handsome and rich middle age man, but to me, he is not so desirable (don’t want to use the “u” word), especially with all those yellow teeth. Again, I told him that I was married. Turning around, I ran as fast as I could.

This afternoon, he was there again and this time, he was NAKED! I was not sure he was completely naked for I could only catch his upper body. I really did not want to see the rest. He yelled out “Salam”. I pretended that I could not hear him and ran out of the wood like a shooting bullet. Good God, what did I get myself into!

Maybe starting tomorrow, I need to change my running route

My Life in Azerbaijan - Local Produces and My Healthy Dishes

May 28, 2011

Today is Azerbaijan independent holiday. Get up early in the morning. Clean the apartment, do laundries and hang them outside, have a healthy breakfast: coffee, French toast (local whole wheat bread) and home made fig jam. Afterward, head out to the Bazaar.

Weekend in the Bazaar usually is very busy. I get there a bit early; some of the fresh vegetables have just arrived. Spring ends soon and summer is approaching, varieties of vegetables are already available in the market, and the prices are getting cheaper; cucumber 3 kilo for $1.25, cauliflower used to be so expensive in the winter, and now is only $1.0 for a kilo. Beet is my favorite root vegetable. The young one has thin smooth skin and dark burgundy color. It looks like a ruby gem. My vegetable man shows me some fresh oriental beans, which are still inside a pod. He opens one and let me taste it. It is so tender and sweet! The price of cabbage comes down significantly as well, only $0.5 a kilo. Some of the vegetables actually come from someone’s gardens; they are freshly picked just this morning!

I am overjoyed by all the fresh fruits and vegetables. I purchase a kilo of apple to make cabbage salad for lunch. This is a healthy dish I experimented last summer, all my friends loves it. Simply cut the apple and cabbage to thin strip, add salt and black pepper, few drops of sesame oil. The final touch is two teaspoons of ginger vinegar, put in the refrigerator for an hour to chill. It is healthy, tasty and inexpensive. As for the fresh oriental beans, I will steam it with the cauliflower, add only salt and pepper. They will definitely go well with my homemade vegetable dumplings. That will be my dinner tonight, yum yum!

Return home, cutting all the vegetables, make a big bowl of salad. After lunch, take a long stroll in the park, bring home some wild roses and sit by the kitchen window, watch the day fade…..my day slips by unnoticed. I have grown to love more and more this effortless, uncomplicated and peaceful life style, it really soothes me. This, I reckon, is how life is meant to be….. At this moment, New York seemed distant, tenuous and marginally real….

Peace Corps encourages us to extend our service for another year, it even adds another 100 manat ($125) to our monthly living allowance, AND, a job offer from the bank ….. tempting, really tempting…..

My Life in Azerbaijan - EuroVision 2011 Contest

May 17, 2011
Last Saturday, Azerbaijan won the Euro Vision Song contest, an annual popular event that is widely celebrated in Europe and Central Asia. The contest was held in Germany, the winner of last year. These few days, every Azeri TV channel broadcasts the event nearly 24 hours a day, and the winning song is being played repeatedly every hour. You can feel the elation from every Azeri, young or old, male or female.

More than 45 countries take part this once a year competition, and among all the contestants, Azerbaijan perhaps is the least recognized nation. To win the contest over some strong competitors like Germany, Spain and France, it is undeniably a dream comes true for the Azeri. They should be proud.

These past few days during my daily exercise, I greeted my Azeri friends and strangers (even the horrible teenagers) with “təbrik edirəm” (I congratuate you). As soon as I cheered them, a crowd would gather around me, shake my hands, thank me and offer me “çay” (tea). The teenagers even wanted to run with me just to show their friendliness. I feel their excitment, their pride and their joy, and I am honor and deeply moved by their willingness to share their “National Pride” with a stranger like me.

Being a winner this year, next Spring Azerbaijan will be a host state to organize the competition. The occasion will bring in many tourists to this country, increase international awareness of this small nation, hopefully will boost its economy, and ultimately increase the wealth of its people.

I am proud for being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Azerbaijan!

Here is the news:
The Eurovision Song Contest brought in 120 million viewers this year and was aired in 55 countries....
Azerbaijan, a tiny country that is lush with natural resources, won the competition and as a result will host the event next year. The winner surprised experts who had expected countries such as France, Ireland or the U.K. to win. Azerbaijan is a country with a large Shiite Muslim population that has suffered from a longtime border conflict with nearby Armenia.

The winning performance was by the duo Ell and Nikki with the song “Running Scared,” which won with 221 points. Concerns are already being raised as to the country’s ability to host next year’s Eurovision, mostly from the popularity of the event with the gay population. Azerbaijan legalized homosexuality in 2001, but Muslim countries generally aren’t tolerant towards individuals expressing these freedoms.

Eurovision began in the early 1950s to test TV linkups across country lines. The participating countries were also interested in creating a good rapport with each other. Communist authorities attempted to stay out of the event and even tried to start their own, but the popularity of Eurovision could not be denied.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Poor but with Grace

May 11, 2011

As a foreigner, especially being an American, PCV is often regarded by the Azeri as a “Rich American”. They assume every American is well-off. First day at work, the opening question from my co-workers was “How much money do you make in America?”, and the 2^nd question, “Can you take me with you to America?” and when I asked what they were planning to do in America, their answer was “Stay with you! You have money”.

One time I made a mistake by offering my co-worker a pack of 3-in-1 coffee. Afterward, he asked me for coffee every morning. Finally, I had to stop drinking coffee at work to avoid being asked again. Another time, another employee asked me for money. At first, I assumed he just needed some changes for a pack of gum, so I gave him a manat ($1.25). He took it and never paid me back. When he later asked me for more, I demanded for an explanation. He simply smiled and said “you are an American, you have money”. A week later, a credit manager approached me and wanted to borrow 100 manat ($125). I knew if I lent him the money, I would never see my money again, so I declined. A kid in my neighborhood saw me one day. He held out his hand and asked me for money “You are an America and you work at the bank, you have money, give me money”. I was utterly furious by their behavior! Where are their pride, their grace and their dignity?

I was poor once. I earned my college degree by washing dishes in the university kitchen and mopping the cafeteria floor until midnight. After graduation, I could only afford to buy a cheap “Sears” suit for a job interview. During the interview, I was honest and humble for who I was. I told the interviewer (partner of a prestige accounting firm) my struggle and hardship during the school years. He was impressed and offered me a job on the spot. First day reported to work, I wore the same “Sears” suit and received a few stares. Of course, I was embarrassed, but I would rather be embarrassed than asked money from friends to make myself look “expensive”. My point is: there is NOTHING wrong for being poor. We can not help for being WHO we are, but we can choose to be WHAT we are. If we let money to define us, we lose our self respect!

Fortunately, my female Azeri friends at work are more gracious. They never asked me for anything, contrary, they often offered me their foods when we had tea together. So, not all Azeri is as gluttonous as the three creatures I encountered. Perhaps they are just a few bad apples, not necessary representing most people in Azerbaijan.

My Life in Azerbaijan - Wild Flowers

May 6, 2011 – Wild Flowers

I suspect that my previous life I was a flower, for I love flower. These couple weeks, my apartment is full of flowers, and they smell just WONDERFUL!

The April shower finally ends. Weather in May is just lovely. The temperature is getting warmer and plenty of sunshine every day. The day is also getting longer. After work, I can not wait to head out for my run/walk. There are plentiful of flowers inside the park, but I only fancy the wild ones. Wild flowers particularly appeal to me because of their unique characters. Usually they are not so flamboyant, but subdue, not so colorful but still attractive, and most of them have a short but strong and productive life. Inside the park, there are wild flowers everywhere, but you have to know where to look for them. They tend to grow in secluded locations where “The Place No One Knew”.

Last year, I accidentally discovered four wild Lilac bushes hidden behind some desert shrubberies. So this year since April, I have been visiting the plants diligently, watching young leaves unfold everyday and finally clusters of purple flowers appear. Two days ago, I climbed over the fence, dug myself into the underbrush, created a parade for the locals to watch, and got my Lilac! Beside the Lilac, there was a yellow flower that caught my attention last year as well. Initially, I could not locate them, just kept smelling this wonderful fragrant as soon as I entered to the “Lover Lane” (a green tunnel where all the young Azeri lovers like to linger). I searched and searched, of course received lots of dirty look from the “Azeri Lovers” and eventually stumbled upon a ditch and nearly killed myself. As I picked myself up and looked to the ground, Ah! Here they were, those infinitesimal yellow flowers were looking back at me and gave me a warm welcome smile.

When the yellow flowers are in full bloom, they give away such a powerful, sweet aroma that they attract lots of bees. Yesterday, I risked being stung by a bee and picked tons of them home to decorate my apartment. Now, I can smell them when I am writing my journal and tonight I can smell them in my dream. Every morning when I get up, I say “hello” to all my flowers, give them a cold refreshing bath, and they absolutely LOVE it. How do I know? Because they told me!!!

Each day, I am more and more convinced that, once upon a time, I was indeed a flower. Perhaps, a wild flower.

(Morning, time for a cold shower girls!)

My Life In Azerbaijan - Gossips, Gossips endless Gossips....

May 2, 2011 – Gossips, Gossips, endless Gossips

Gossips among the Peace Corps Volunteers are notorious. One time, a PCV conducted an experiment to see how fast and how far a rumor could travel. She made up a story and asked another PCV to spread the news. Within a short period of time, the rumor came back to her with vivid details.

We, PCVs live in a foreign land. Our friends and relatives are thousand and thousand miles away. We only have each other to entertain or to comfort ourselves. PCV community is extremely small. If you have a site mate, he/she inevitably becomes your buddy. Some PCVs hardly have enough work to fill their week or even day, so they travel, visit another PCVs, hangout, eat, drink and what else? TALK!

For more than a year, I had no site mate. I kept myself busy, worked at the bank every day, set up routine task, did my daily exercise, read, cooked and read more. No gossip reached Sumgayit, the town I live. I was 100% out of that circle. One time, a young PCV visited me and asked me about a rumor of other PCV, and my response was “I have no idea who is X” (we have more than 100 PCVs in Azerbaijan, it is hard to keep track with who is who, really!)

“Where the hell have you been Chi!!”

She got very frustrated with me because I could not add more “juice” to her story. From that point me, no one voluntarily fed me anymore gossip. Thank God!

Last week, we received an email from our country director. The sole purpose of that e-mail was to dismiss some BIG rumors that had been going around and were being ignited like the fireworks of 4th of July. Each time those rumors traveled, they became bigger, more colorful and “Juicier”. I am sure our country director has better thing to do. For her to write such an e-mail, you can image how bad the situation has been. As usual, I know nothing about those rumors. I go on with my life in Sumgayit, concentrate my work at the bank and with the local community, continue to be a “dull” but good old Peace Corps Volunteer.

Years ago, I did not mind listening to gossips (well, I was much younger then). One time, I heard a rumor about me. The story was completely fabricated, but it was so painful that I went home cried for days. So I know how hurtful a gossip could do to another human being and how much chaos a rumor could create for a situation. During the PCV training, I was watching a young PCV gossiping endlessly about other PCVs. I watched her facial expression, could not help but feeling sad for her……

If you really have nothing to do, please read a book, take a long walk, go for a run, pick some wild flowers, breath fresh air, cook a meal, play with local kids,…….do anything, anything that keeps you away from gossiping, for gossip adds nothing to your brain.

My Life in Azerbijan - Peace Corps Living Allowance

April 23, 2011

Peace Corps living allowance annual survey is out. In order to make the survey more meaningful, we are urged to itemize our daily expenditures. In fact, a quantitative and qualitative analysis would be more preferable. I was always a good student at school; so I followed instructions and dutifully completed the survey timely.

Young PCVs tend to complain how meager the monthly allowance is. Well, they are young, they are entitled to have fun, to visit other site mates, to travel outside of Azerbaijan, to have a few drinks, to take taxi, to eat at a local restaurant and of course, to be in Baku enjoying the city life occasionally when they are tired of the harsh village life where they serve. Besides, to do community project, sometimes, they need money to buy materials. So, I agree with them 100%, the monthly allowance from Peace Corps is insufficient.

I live in an expensive town, not far from Baku. In fact, I am the first volunteer placed in this town. Because it is so close to the capital, the rent is disturbing expensive. But I have a nice apartment, perhaps the best apartment ever rented by any PCVs’. Of course, it comes with a price, a high price. Even with the extra housing allowance from Peace Corps, 90% of my monthly allowance goes to rent. I could have rented a DISGUSTING (i.e. leaking pipes, smelly and broken toilet, dusty carpet, uninvited insects and animals running around etc.) place for around 250 manats, but I have made my choice. My home is my nest, it is important to me. I need it to comfort myself when I have a bad day, to run away from the dreadful teenage boys, to keep myself relatively warm in winter and most importantly, to cook myself a healthy dinner. I would not have been able to survive if I had to constantly argue and wait for my landlord to fix my apartment. I heard too many horror stories!

In exchange for a nice apartment, I have to give up many things. I can not afford to travel often, to visit my PC friends, to eat out, to have a drink or even to buy a kilo of banana or apple (average 2.5 manats a kilo) once a week. My daily diet includes many local cheap vegetables: carrot, potato, spinach, cabbage and onion. I probably ate more cabbage here in a month than a year in American. (Cabbage soup, cabbage salad, cabbage pickle, stir fried cabbage with garlic etc). Last month, I had a digestion problem because I ate too much cabbage. PC doctor had to drug me so I can continue to live on with cabbage.

Once in a blue moon, I felt sad. I had a good life in American. I was once spoiled by the “Wall Street” lifestyle and literately could buy anything I wanted, and eat anywhere I desired. Now, I could not even afford to buy myself a hamburger and a beer. Of course, I could have used my own money, but every time when I tempted to do so, I felt very mortified.

I remember the promise that I made to myself two years ago. I am determined to live like the locals, to live within the budget of Peace Corps allowance, and to live like a real Peace Corps Volunteer. I do not have to eat out, I can cook myself a nice cabbage dinner, I do not need a beer, and I can drink water. I do not have to see Vivian and Carol every month, we can e-mail to each other. I want to experience the kind of life that most Azerbaijan people experience. My co-worker in the bank only earns 250 manats a month, and he has two children, an aging mother and a wife to feed. If he can do it, so can I. I only have to live like this for another six months; my co-worker most likely will have to live poorly for the rest of his life!

So I hit the “Send” button and e-mail my respond with the utmost honest answer.