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)