Life After Peace Corps - Remembering my life in Azerbaijan

Laterly, I have been thinking about my life back in Azerbaijan.  Here is the article I wrote about the town I lived.  Amazing how time flies

My Wilderness in Sumgayit, Azerbaijan

Chi Chan, PCV Sumgayit

May 2011

More than a year ago when I was left behind in Sumgayit, some of my Peace Corps friends worried if I would ever make it. While they were elated for their next adventures in other parts of Azerbaijan, I nonetheless remained at this dusty, highly polluted, notorious industrial town for the next two years, ALONE!

Sixteen months have gone by and I am still here, absolutely content. In fact, I am beginning to feel melancholy about leaving this place in December. The source of my contentment perhaps stems from my daily walk in the park by the Caspian Sea. My initial motive was to use the daily walk to stay healthy. Soon after, I realized the walk also helped me to better integrate with the locals, and lift my spirits on a gloomy winter day. Slowly but surely, I became more and more addicted to the walk.

The best part of my daily walk is a “Green Tunnel”, a passageway no more than 200 feet long and 10 feet wide. Giant pines and tall fir trees loom on either flank of this confined area, forming an inviting cool canopy in summer, but a somber eerie dark place in winter. The best time to visit the tunnel is on a steaming hot summer afternoon. The air inside the tunnel is deliciously cool, at least 5 degrees cooler than outside. Young Azeri lovers often hide inside this tunnel and do all the things that their parents consider olmaz, so sometimes I refer this place as the “Lovers Lane”.

This corridor eventually ends at the foot of a 25-step staircase. A huge flowering shrub guards the stairs.  In spring time, this plant bears infinitesimal yellow flowers, its light but intoxicating fragrance permeates the entire tunnel and puts a spell on this secluded location.

One hot summer day, I visited the tunnel again. That day, the yellow flowers were in full bloom. While I was picking some for my apartment, (of course illegally) l stumbled upon a faint animal trail behind the bush. Ignoring Jeyhun’s warning about staying in populated areas for safety reasons, I decided venturing on this seemingly isolated dirt path which ultimately led me to discover a lovely, secretive place – the haven of Sumgayit.

The trail behind the bush was barely discernible, but I could still make out a few faded human and animal prints in the dry sand. I walked slowly down the dirt track. Soon I spotted a fragment of animal bone undisturbed on the sand. The vegetation around me grew to be increasingly dense. They were typical desert plants; dried bristly grasses, thorny shrubs and spiny-herbs. At one point, I had to elbow my way out.

Without any warning, a big hawk swooped low towards me, acting very aggressively. It startled me. The black bird wheeled, spiraled upward and eventually landed on the branch of a tall fir tree, still watching me from above, making loud, hoarse warning cry. Perhaps I was too close to its nest. I thought about retreating, but emboldened by curiosity, I decided to carry on.

After a while, I came out into a small open area. Almost at my feet, few small birds erupted from the grass. The place was nothing special. Just the same mix of desert vegetation and dry brown soil. And when I went up another faint trail, I found a little garden of prickly shrubbery with deep purple flowers.

That was about it. Except, perhaps because the place was so well hidden, it possessed a certain charm that intrigued me. On the fringe of the open field, a forest of ancient firs stood guard over the area, filtering out the hustle and bustle of life in Sumgayit on the other bank. Above, a big flock of black ravens circled, making kraaak-ing noise and doing a wild dance with the infamous “Baku Gale”.

The Park recently went through a complete makeover. Every walkway was made tidy with bricks; trees were scrupulously planted, trimmed and cut down. Flowers were artificially cultivated. But this small patch of land was left unattended. Here, plants grow in disarray; vines twist and twine, stretched in every possible direction to catch the sunlight, fallen branches serenely disintegrating under the immense, dry, desert heat, wild flowers radiate their colors, forms and character occur naturally, nothing is artificial, nothing is meticulously or strategically positioned and nothing is meddled by artificial impressions. Here, nature rules. The way the natural world is intended to be, and the way it ought to be!

I stood for a while at the edge of the field, looking out over it. The place exuded an air of rawness. What really enthralled me about this place was its lack of man’s signatures. There were no discarded plastic bags, cigarette butts, water bottles, papers or other human trash. Apart from the chirping sound of birds and the croaking cry of ravens, the place was completely silent, undamaged, whole, wild and alive!

After I had explored as much as seemed necessary, I turned and dug my way out to the main road. My unladylike behavior must have looked utterly crazy to the locals, and when I re-emerged from the flower bush, I attracted a few stares.

I went back to this place a few times. The fear that this place would eventually be exposed, or be invaded by the Azeri lovers made me stay away purposely. Each time, I smeared my footprints to conceal the trail. This apparently inconsequential place is special to me. What I saw in there was something wild, something unquestionably real, free of artificiality. It is my wilderness. I hope it will remain hidden, remain wild, and remain as it is.