February 19, 2010
The Azerbaijan family daily diets include lot of breads, potatoes, cheeses, animal fats and butter. After each meal, the Azeri enjoys drinking tea (çay) with lot of “Sweets”. The typical sweet is nothing but the sugar cubes. Instead of putting the sugar cubes inside their tea, they put the cubes in their mouths and eat them like candies. If the family is weatlhy, the sugar cubes are replaced by chocolates.
The Azeri loves sweet and fat. I was shocked the first time when I saw how my host mother cook rice. She first fried the union with çox çox çoxlu (lots) of butter, (approx. 3 sticks of butter) then she added either fatty meats or pumpkin with rice. To finish the dish, she put in another 2 sticks of butter. After she added water inside the pot, I could literally see a thick layer of fat floating on top of the rice. When the rice was cooked, it was not floppy and dried like our “Chinese Rice” but so greasy, oily and mushy that they looked like porridge. I nearly threw up the first time I ate that rice. The smell and the taste of the butter made me hate eating rice for a long time.
As for vegetables, in Azerbaijan there seems to be only cabbage, carrot, green union and baby spinach in the winter. Cabbage is cheap, very cheap so each Azeri family will pickle the cabbage and eat them whole year round. Occasionally in the bazaar, if I am lucky, I can find some tiny and rotten broccoli or cauliflower, the kind that I would never buy in the States, and they are very expensive. My host family never bought any fresh fruits and vegetables from the market. Instead, my host father would purchase boxes and boxes of rotten ones from the venders for a cheap price. My host mother and sisters would then sort out the most rotten pieces to feed the chickens and the rest, we ate. I once saw my host sister cut out 90% of an apple and handed the remaining tiny piece to me. I ate it but I could still taste the rotten aroma for what was left from an apple.
For me, an edible apple should be juicy and crunchy, not saggy, mushy and dried. After that day, I bought my own fruits and avoided eating more those rotten fruits. As for vegetables, I insist on cooking my own carrot and cabbages with a spoonful of corn oil adding nothing but just a little salt and pepper. My host family laughed at my “tasteless” American cooking. I let them. I want to stay healthy and not gain a pound when I return to the States after two years. (According to Peace Corps, average female PCVs gain weight after two years service! and I already saw some of them showing it)
I still take my long walk after work and when I arrive home, I climb stairs and do some yoga. The weather is getting warmer each day, and I am looking forward to taking a even longer walk by the Caspian Sea in the summer.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Our Peace Corps Monthly Allowance
February 17. 2010
Yesterday on my way home, I passed by my favorite fruits Stand and noticed the green plum was out now. I wanted to have one and asked the shop keeper how much a kilo. The shop owner knows me well and I have been one of his best customers. He told me that it was very expensive (3 AZN per kilo) and not to but them. He is an honest man and his fruits usually very fresh and good. He treats me fairly and never over charged me. Unlike the other street vendor I encountered few days ago, he raised the price of the apple as soon as I approached him. Even the sign showing the price was 0.8 AZN per kilo, he insisted that I had to pay 1.0 AZN per kilo. He thought that he could charge me more just because I was the “rich foreigner” but he failed to realize that I am a Peace Corps worker, I am poor even according to the Azeri standard.
From the Peace Corps monthly living allowance I receive, I really cannot afford to buy imported fruits such as banana, orange and grape fruit. They are expensive and cost 2-3 AZN a kilo. Once in a while, I skipped lunch and bought myself a few bananas and I have to hide them in my room so I can save them to eat one a day or my host family will eat them all in an hour.
Right now, I live with a host family so most of my meals are being taken care of. Therefore, occasionally, I can still afford to treat myself with the imported fruits. Very soon, when I move out on my own, after deducting the rent payment, I only have about 100 AZN left to cover monthly foods, gas, electricity, transportation and daily personal and cleaning items. 100 AZN is not a lot of money when it costs 2.4 AZN for a small bottle of shampoo and 1.3 AZN to take a bus to Baku. How am I going to live on my own with only 3.3 AZN daily allowances?
The answer from Peace Corps is: continue to live with your host family for two years. For an independent person like myself, I would rather starve to death than share a roof with strangers for two years. Most Peace Corps Volunteers use their own money or ask their family from the US to subsidize their living expense. I dislike the idea, not because I am cheap. I just do not believe it is the right thing to do. After all, we are here to experience how the local lives. If we go on living the way we used to live in the US, it does not serve “the purpose” why we are here. I was poor once. I will manage.
Yesterday on my way home, I passed by my favorite fruits Stand and noticed the green plum was out now. I wanted to have one and asked the shop keeper how much a kilo. The shop owner knows me well and I have been one of his best customers. He told me that it was very expensive (3 AZN per kilo) and not to but them. He is an honest man and his fruits usually very fresh and good. He treats me fairly and never over charged me. Unlike the other street vendor I encountered few days ago, he raised the price of the apple as soon as I approached him. Even the sign showing the price was 0.8 AZN per kilo, he insisted that I had to pay 1.0 AZN per kilo. He thought that he could charge me more just because I was the “rich foreigner” but he failed to realize that I am a Peace Corps worker, I am poor even according to the Azeri standard.
From the Peace Corps monthly living allowance I receive, I really cannot afford to buy imported fruits such as banana, orange and grape fruit. They are expensive and cost 2-3 AZN a kilo. Once in a while, I skipped lunch and bought myself a few bananas and I have to hide them in my room so I can save them to eat one a day or my host family will eat them all in an hour.
Right now, I live with a host family so most of my meals are being taken care of. Therefore, occasionally, I can still afford to treat myself with the imported fruits. Very soon, when I move out on my own, after deducting the rent payment, I only have about 100 AZN left to cover monthly foods, gas, electricity, transportation and daily personal and cleaning items. 100 AZN is not a lot of money when it costs 2.4 AZN for a small bottle of shampoo and 1.3 AZN to take a bus to Baku. How am I going to live on my own with only 3.3 AZN daily allowances?
The answer from Peace Corps is: continue to live with your host family for two years. For an independent person like myself, I would rather starve to death than share a roof with strangers for two years. Most Peace Corps Volunteers use their own money or ask their family from the US to subsidize their living expense. I dislike the idea, not because I am cheap. I just do not believe it is the right thing to do. After all, we are here to experience how the local lives. If we go on living the way we used to live in the US, it does not serve “the purpose” why we are here. I was poor once. I will manage.
My LIfe in Azerbaijan - Nice Weather Finally
February 16, 2010
Last night just before dawn, the wind was blowing like hell. The wild dogs were barking; the garage door of my host family was banging so loud; my bedroom window was shuddering and I thought the wall next to my bed was going to crumble and gave way to the vicious storm. I looked out to the window and noted the sky was covered with thick dark clouds. Minutes later, all the power in the house was gone. It seemed that the whole universe was descending into a total darkness.
I heard my host mother was getting up, moving around downstairs in the dark to cook a family meal for the day. I hid myself under the cover, not willing to face another day with sub-zero temperature and tormenting wind chill. “I will skip a day to work” I was planning to sleep more (It is good thing being a Peace Corps Volunteer, we are never obligated to go to work)
An hour later, the wind stopped and the power was back on. I looked at my alarm clock and it was 8:00am. “I should go to work, the report is due to Baku” I changed my mind and started preparing to go to work. I went downstairs to take a shower and as soon as I opened the door, I was surprise by how warm the air was!
Within two hours, the weather took a 360 degree turned. Spring was in the air. The birds were singing, my host mother’s chickens were even out. Cocks were making the morning call even louder than normal, kept raising their “cookoo cookoo” sound begging for attention. The three family kitties were climbing the trees and chasing each other. I could not believe the picture in front of me. The snow from last week had not yet completely melted, and the water in the bucket was still frozen from last night cold temperature.
It must be the SOUTH WIND!
I learned from my Azerbaijan friend that there are two kinds of wind in Azerbaijan. The North and the South wind. The South wind is the wind arriving from the desert of Saudi Arabia and the North wind is the wind coming from the Caspian Sea. The violent storm blowing last night was the result of the shifting wind direction from the North to the South. The desert wind has arrived!
Wind from the South according to my friend is the worse wind in the summer. It dehydrates all the fruits, vegetables, and plants growing in the field. It is the most hated wind in the summer. However, today it was a welcoming wind for me. I have enough of the cold, welcome Summer!
Last night just before dawn, the wind was blowing like hell. The wild dogs were barking; the garage door of my host family was banging so loud; my bedroom window was shuddering and I thought the wall next to my bed was going to crumble and gave way to the vicious storm. I looked out to the window and noted the sky was covered with thick dark clouds. Minutes later, all the power in the house was gone. It seemed that the whole universe was descending into a total darkness.
I heard my host mother was getting up, moving around downstairs in the dark to cook a family meal for the day. I hid myself under the cover, not willing to face another day with sub-zero temperature and tormenting wind chill. “I will skip a day to work” I was planning to sleep more (It is good thing being a Peace Corps Volunteer, we are never obligated to go to work)
An hour later, the wind stopped and the power was back on. I looked at my alarm clock and it was 8:00am. “I should go to work, the report is due to Baku” I changed my mind and started preparing to go to work. I went downstairs to take a shower and as soon as I opened the door, I was surprise by how warm the air was!
Within two hours, the weather took a 360 degree turned. Spring was in the air. The birds were singing, my host mother’s chickens were even out. Cocks were making the morning call even louder than normal, kept raising their “cookoo cookoo” sound begging for attention. The three family kitties were climbing the trees and chasing each other. I could not believe the picture in front of me. The snow from last week had not yet completely melted, and the water in the bucket was still frozen from last night cold temperature.
It must be the SOUTH WIND!
I learned from my Azerbaijan friend that there are two kinds of wind in Azerbaijan. The North and the South wind. The South wind is the wind arriving from the desert of Saudi Arabia and the North wind is the wind coming from the Caspian Sea. The violent storm blowing last night was the result of the shifting wind direction from the North to the South. The desert wind has arrived!
Wind from the South according to my friend is the worse wind in the summer. It dehydrates all the fruits, vegetables, and plants growing in the field. It is the most hated wind in the summer. However, today it was a welcoming wind for me. I have enough of the cold, welcome Summer!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Azerbaijan Hospital
February 9, 2010
İ have read one of the Peace Corps important policies that if we, PCVs ever get sick, DON’T let any non-Peace Corps doctor minister us, DON’T take any medication from them and NEVER ever let them insert an needle in us. One of the reasons is because the corruption in the country. In Azerbaijan, anyone can obtain a medical doctor degree if he/she has the money to pay the bribe. Today, I uncovered another reason.
The little boy who lives across the street from us has been sick more than a week. He is not doing well and will have to remain in the hospital for at least another week. He is a cute little boy, only 10 months old. I hold him and play with him all the times and love him dearly. Yesterday, I went to see him in the hospital.
Standing in front of the hospital entrance, I was just astounded. The hospital buildings inside the gate looked more like some old Russian army dormatories. We entered into one of the old broken buildings throught the side entrance and found out all the doors were locked. We bang on the door for five minutes, and finally a woman wearing a dirty white gown came out and looked at us with a cold face. I was not sure she was a doctor or a nurse, but either case, I would dispel her from the hospital immediately. Her appearance was totally unacceptable by the American medical standard or any medical standard.
We climbed up to the 4th floor (yes, no elevator) with broken staircases here and there. Dim light passing through some high windows showed us the way. The hallway was dark, cold and ugly. The whole place did not look, feel, or even smell like a hospital. We passed some nurse stations and I was totally disgusted. The station looked more like the kitchen of Mr. Chow. I was further appalled when I walked into the little boy’s room. A moldy smell hit me as soon as I went in. By the corner was this poor little body lying on a bed full of filthy blankets. There were no white linens covering the mattress, pillows or blankets. There were no shades or curtains by the window. A big smutty blanket veiled a doorway and behind it revealed the dirtiest bathroom I ever saw in a hospital.
Inside the bathroom was a bathtub with yellow stains and broken pipes. There was no running water inside and the toilet was unusable, that was why the hospital using the blanket to block the entrance. Was I really in a hospital or this was merely a dream? With such a horrible condition, how the little boy was going to get better? I was angry first and later on, my anger turned into sadness.
These past few weeks, all the entries of my “blog” were nothing but bad thing about this country. I wanted to write something nice, positive or at least acceptable thing about this place. I tried and tried, but in vain…
The people of Azerbaijan suffer enough! How much can I really help? I ponder this question for a long long time. Maybe I am really just a drop of water in the ocean.
İ have read one of the Peace Corps important policies that if we, PCVs ever get sick, DON’T let any non-Peace Corps doctor minister us, DON’T take any medication from them and NEVER ever let them insert an needle in us. One of the reasons is because the corruption in the country. In Azerbaijan, anyone can obtain a medical doctor degree if he/she has the money to pay the bribe. Today, I uncovered another reason.
The little boy who lives across the street from us has been sick more than a week. He is not doing well and will have to remain in the hospital for at least another week. He is a cute little boy, only 10 months old. I hold him and play with him all the times and love him dearly. Yesterday, I went to see him in the hospital.
Standing in front of the hospital entrance, I was just astounded. The hospital buildings inside the gate looked more like some old Russian army dormatories. We entered into one of the old broken buildings throught the side entrance and found out all the doors were locked. We bang on the door for five minutes, and finally a woman wearing a dirty white gown came out and looked at us with a cold face. I was not sure she was a doctor or a nurse, but either case, I would dispel her from the hospital immediately. Her appearance was totally unacceptable by the American medical standard or any medical standard.
We climbed up to the 4th floor (yes, no elevator) with broken staircases here and there. Dim light passing through some high windows showed us the way. The hallway was dark, cold and ugly. The whole place did not look, feel, or even smell like a hospital. We passed some nurse stations and I was totally disgusted. The station looked more like the kitchen of Mr. Chow. I was further appalled when I walked into the little boy’s room. A moldy smell hit me as soon as I went in. By the corner was this poor little body lying on a bed full of filthy blankets. There were no white linens covering the mattress, pillows or blankets. There were no shades or curtains by the window. A big smutty blanket veiled a doorway and behind it revealed the dirtiest bathroom I ever saw in a hospital.
Inside the bathroom was a bathtub with yellow stains and broken pipes. There was no running water inside and the toilet was unusable, that was why the hospital using the blanket to block the entrance. Was I really in a hospital or this was merely a dream? With such a horrible condition, how the little boy was going to get better? I was angry first and later on, my anger turned into sadness.
These past few weeks, all the entries of my “blog” were nothing but bad thing about this country. I wanted to write something nice, positive or at least acceptable thing about this place. I tried and tried, but in vain…
The people of Azerbaijan suffer enough! How much can I really help? I ponder this question for a long long time. Maybe I am really just a drop of water in the ocean.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Shower at Last!
February 7, 2010
After three days without shower, I really could not stand it anymore. I told my host mother, I must take a shower today, no matter how cold it was.
Since the Friday snow storm, everything in the house seemed to stop working. The electricity was out whole day Friday and half of day Saturday. The bathroom had no running water for three days and it smelt horrible. Everyone went to the bathroom without flashing the toilet and it was grossed. I went down to the kitchen, filled up a bucket of water and cleaned up the mess. In the morning and evening, I brushed my teeth and washed my face with the ice water. It was coooold, so cooooold that my hands felt like being pinned by thousand needles. However, no one in the house seemed to care about the cleaning. They just hurdled around the heater, drank cay (tea) and did not want to do anything. When I mentioned taking a shower, they all said NO, NO. NO too cold Chi, you are going to get sick.
I asked my host mother to boil me 2 pots of hot water. When they were ready, I went to the hamam (outhouse), closed the door, took off my clothes, bit my lips and stepped into th
e cold bathtub and took a most needed shower. After I finished, I felt wonderful. In the States, I took shower every day, something even 2 times a day, but never once felt so clean , so incredible clean like today!
Moment like this really makes me miss my bathroom in New York. I have a nice bathroom back home with a bathtub that is spotless clean. My bathroom always smells good, with a big mirror, soft lighting, soap that has the amazing flower fragrant. I miss my bobble bath too, soft bobbles, warm water, unlimited amount of hot water…..
After three days without shower, I really could not stand it anymore. I told my host mother, I must take a shower today, no matter how cold it was.
Since the Friday snow storm, everything in the house seemed to stop working. The electricity was out whole day Friday and half of day Saturday. The bathroom had no running water for three days and it smelt horrible. Everyone went to the bathroom without flashing the toilet and it was grossed. I went down to the kitchen, filled up a bucket of water and cleaned up the mess. In the morning and evening, I brushed my teeth and washed my face with the ice water. It was coooold, so cooooold that my hands felt like being pinned by thousand needles. However, no one in the house seemed to care about the cleaning. They just hurdled around the heater, drank cay (tea) and did not want to do anything. When I mentioned taking a shower, they all said NO, NO. NO too cold Chi, you are going to get sick.
I asked my host mother to boil me 2 pots of hot water. When they were ready, I went to the hamam (outhouse), closed the door, took off my clothes, bit my lips and stepped into th
e cold bathtub and took a most needed shower. After I finished, I felt wonderful. In the States, I took shower every day, something even 2 times a day, but never once felt so clean , so incredible clean like today!Moment like this really makes me miss my bathroom in New York. I have a nice bathroom back home with a bathtub that is spotless clean. My bathroom always smells good, with a big mirror, soft lighting, soap that has the amazing flower fragrant. I miss my bobble bath too, soft bobbles, warm water, unlimited amount of hot water…..
My Life in Azerbaijan - The Storm!
February 5, 2010
I could hear the wind was blowing whole night long, but I did not realize it was this bad. This morning when I got up to go to work, I noted that lot of water coming through my bedroom windows. I could feel the icy wind creeping in through the cracks. Then, I discovered there was no electricity. When I opened the door to go outside, a gust of freezing wind hit my face. It was snowing heavily and the wind was mercilessly blowing and
blowing. It was a blizzard outside. My host family’s chicken shed and yard were completely covered with snow. I quickly went to the outhouse and found out that not only there was no hot water; there was also no running water. That meant no shower for me today. I ran back to the house and woke up my sister and told her everything. She looked at with the sleepy eyes and did not think it was a big deal.
“You do not have snow in New York?”
“We do, but no electricity, no running water and no hot water at the same time are rare!”
“It happens here all the time Chi, it will be ok in a few days”
Then, she went back to sleep.
The gusting wind combined with the heavy snow and sub-zero temperature made it unbearable to stand outside just for a few seconds. I knew I could not make it to work. Later, my sister told me that the road to the city was littered with stranded cars. Those who went to work in the morning could not make it home that night until late. I was glad I did not leave the house or I would never make it back alive.
For a day and an half, my host family’s house was out of power. We could not watch TV, and we did not know what was happening outside the house. None of us could take a shower because there was no hot water. We drank hot tea, ate bread and sat around the heater, hoping the power would be back soon. At night, my host mother lit up two candles and the entire family was sitting in the dark eating sunflower seeds whole night long. By 9:00pm, I could not take it anymore, so I went back to my icy cold room and sleep. Sleeping was the only way to keep me warm. Before I closed my eyes, I prayed to God that let this winter go by fast because I really hated the cold!
I could hear the wind was blowing whole night long, but I did not realize it was this bad. This morning when I got up to go to work, I noted that lot of water coming through my bedroom windows. I could feel the icy wind creeping in through the cracks. Then, I discovered there was no electricity. When I opened the door to go outside, a gust of freezing wind hit my face. It was snowing heavily and the wind was mercilessly blowing and
blowing. It was a blizzard outside. My host family’s chicken shed and yard were completely covered with snow. I quickly went to the outhouse and found out that not only there was no hot water; there was also no running water. That meant no shower for me today. I ran back to the house and woke up my sister and told her everything. She looked at with the sleepy eyes and did not think it was a big deal.“You do not have snow in New York?”
“We do, but no electricity, no running water and no hot water at the same time are rare!”
“It happens here all the time Chi, it will be ok in a few days”
Then, she went back to sleep.
The gusting wind combined with the heavy snow and sub-zero temperature made it unbearable to stand outside just for a few seconds. I knew I could not make it to work. Later, my sister told me that the road to the city was littered with stranded cars. Those who went to work in the morning could not make it home that night until late. I was glad I did not leave the house or I would never make it back alive.
For a day and an half, my host family’s house was out of power. We could not watch TV, and we did not know what was happening outside the house. None of us could take a shower because there was no hot water. We drank hot tea, ate bread and sat around the heater, hoping the power would be back soon. At night, my host mother lit up two candles and the entire family was sitting in the dark eating sunflower seeds whole night long. By 9:00pm, I could not take it anymore, so I went back to my icy cold room and sleep. Sleeping was the only way to keep me warm. Before I closed my eyes, I prayed to God that let this winter go by fast because I really hated the cold!
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Hello Gene!
February 1, 2010
Today I received a surprise phone call from Gene Rose, the gentleman I met on the CMCNY Peru trip few years ago. I think I am the only person in CMCNY who still keep in touch with Gene. Gene read my blog and wanted to cheer me up with a phone call. You did, Gene, you really made my day today. Thank you very much!
Gene and I had a good time during the Peru Machu Picchu trip. We do have a lot thing in common. Gene traveled a lot and I admire his adventure spirit. He is another interesting individual I met in my life. Last year Gene went to Iraq with the Red Cross to help the American troop. Judging the frequency of his travel, I can guess Gene is quite well-to-do. Instead of enjoying his life with his wealth, Gene wants to give something back to the world. His service to Iraq really impresses me. Gene is a good man, I hope someday, I will see him again or maybe travel together.
Some people are not happy just being “survive”, they choose to live, live every second with the fullness. Gene is one of that special human being.
Today I received a surprise phone call from Gene Rose, the gentleman I met on the CMCNY Peru trip few years ago. I think I am the only person in CMCNY who still keep in touch with Gene. Gene read my blog and wanted to cheer me up with a phone call. You did, Gene, you really made my day today. Thank you very much!
Gene and I had a good time during the Peru Machu Picchu trip. We do have a lot thing in common. Gene traveled a lot and I admire his adventure spirit. He is another interesting individual I met in my life. Last year Gene went to Iraq with the Red Cross to help the American troop. Judging the frequency of his travel, I can guess Gene is quite well-to-do. Instead of enjoying his life with his wealth, Gene wants to give something back to the world. His service to Iraq really impresses me. Gene is a good man, I hope someday, I will see him again or maybe travel together.
Some people are not happy just being “survive”, they choose to live, live every second with the fullness. Gene is one of that special human being.
My Life in Azerbaijan - Our Dilemma as Peace Corps Volunteer
January 2, 2010
I read Vivian’s weekly newsletter this morning and this is what she wrote on January 31, 2010:
“This is the second time I have not been kind to my family....I realize that I was bitchy but I have to tell you how trying the whole situation is about 90% of the time”
I sense her frustruation and I am glad to find out that I am not the only one feeling this way about our host family. My part of the story is not so different. One of my host sisters always expects me to be around her. I have to entertain her relatives and her friends. It does not matter whether I like it or not. She just came to me and announced each time:
“Chi, we are going to my aunt’s house this weekend” ,
“Chi, my friends are coming this weekend, make sure you are home”,
“Chi, my cousin’s birthday is tomorrow, we will go to her party”.
Out of respect, I had honored all her requests. Each time, I suffered. It was always the same, they talked and talked among themselves in Azeri, said things about me, laughted at my mistakens, kept watching me. When they got tired of it, they just left me there to get bored. If I got up and left, it was an OMLAZ (it is forbidden!). My host sister and her mother would later critized me and demanded an explanation as why I behaved that way.
Last week, I finally got fed up with the whole situation, so I said “NO” to my host sister’s request for visiting her aunt in Baku. I explained to her I had language lesson that day.
“But what time will you be back?”.
“late, I will be late, please go without me”.
As soon as I said that, she put her head down on the table, and got very upset. She was nearly in tears. I ignored her and left the kitchen. Whole day, she stopped talking to me. Every time I walked by her, she would watch me with the corner of her eyes, with a sad and angry face. I continued to ignore her because I am really so SICK OF HER.
That night, out of the blue, ana (my host mother) asked me to go to her friend’s party with her. I knew right away it was not ana’s party it was my host sister’s. My host sister used her mother to make me to go to her party. I was mad, I gave ana the same answer, “Sorry, I am busy.” My host sister was there and they both talked in Azeri about my response. I hated it, but I pretended I did not understand. For two days, my host sister and I didnot communicate. I was glad for that!
Finally, the 3rd day during dinner time, my other host sister asked me in front of her entire family that why I stopped talking to her sister. I felt smoke coming out of my brain. I spoke up immediately
“Since I said no to your sister’s party, she stopped talking to me. She even used ana to make me go. You have to understand, I am here as a PCV to help others, I need to do my community service during the weekend, I cannot go party with your sister all the time!” then, I turned to my host sister and her mother, getting more irritated each second: “if there is problem with this, I will talk to Peace Corps, and I can move out tomorrow” As soon as I said that, my host sister got very scared. Peace Corps has a lot of power, they are afraid of Peace Corps getting involved.
“Please donot tell Peace Corps, if you donot want to go, I have no problem with that”
That was the end of our conversion. Later, ana said something about me moving out in April. They would still be my friend and they would come and visit me...... etc etc. Then, I felt guilty losing my temper.
To be fair, my host family are not bad people. It is the culture difference that causes the conflict between our host family and us. There is no easy way to deal with or solve the situation similar to what Vivian and I have encountered. It is the dilamma that we continue to face until the day we finally move out and live on our own.
However, I am glad that I did speak up for myself. Sometime it is hard to be nice. I totally understand how Vivian felt that day. Hang in there, my friend Vivian dear!
I read Vivian’s weekly newsletter this morning and this is what she wrote on January 31, 2010:
“This is the second time I have not been kind to my family....I realize that I was bitchy but I have to tell you how trying the whole situation is about 90% of the time”
I sense her frustruation and I am glad to find out that I am not the only one feeling this way about our host family. My part of the story is not so different. One of my host sisters always expects me to be around her. I have to entertain her relatives and her friends. It does not matter whether I like it or not. She just came to me and announced each time:
“Chi, we are going to my aunt’s house this weekend” ,
“Chi, my friends are coming this weekend, make sure you are home”,
“Chi, my cousin’s birthday is tomorrow, we will go to her party”.
Out of respect, I had honored all her requests. Each time, I suffered. It was always the same, they talked and talked among themselves in Azeri, said things about me, laughted at my mistakens, kept watching me. When they got tired of it, they just left me there to get bored. If I got up and left, it was an OMLAZ (it is forbidden!). My host sister and her mother would later critized me and demanded an explanation as why I behaved that way.
Last week, I finally got fed up with the whole situation, so I said “NO” to my host sister’s request for visiting her aunt in Baku. I explained to her I had language lesson that day.
“But what time will you be back?”.
“late, I will be late, please go without me”.
As soon as I said that, she put her head down on the table, and got very upset. She was nearly in tears. I ignored her and left the kitchen. Whole day, she stopped talking to me. Every time I walked by her, she would watch me with the corner of her eyes, with a sad and angry face. I continued to ignore her because I am really so SICK OF HER.
That night, out of the blue, ana (my host mother) asked me to go to her friend’s party with her. I knew right away it was not ana’s party it was my host sister’s. My host sister used her mother to make me to go to her party. I was mad, I gave ana the same answer, “Sorry, I am busy.” My host sister was there and they both talked in Azeri about my response. I hated it, but I pretended I did not understand. For two days, my host sister and I didnot communicate. I was glad for that!
Finally, the 3rd day during dinner time, my other host sister asked me in front of her entire family that why I stopped talking to her sister. I felt smoke coming out of my brain. I spoke up immediately
“Since I said no to your sister’s party, she stopped talking to me. She even used ana to make me go. You have to understand, I am here as a PCV to help others, I need to do my community service during the weekend, I cannot go party with your sister all the time!” then, I turned to my host sister and her mother, getting more irritated each second: “if there is problem with this, I will talk to Peace Corps, and I can move out tomorrow” As soon as I said that, my host sister got very scared. Peace Corps has a lot of power, they are afraid of Peace Corps getting involved.
“Please donot tell Peace Corps, if you donot want to go, I have no problem with that”
That was the end of our conversion. Later, ana said something about me moving out in April. They would still be my friend and they would come and visit me...... etc etc. Then, I felt guilty losing my temper.
To be fair, my host family are not bad people. It is the culture difference that causes the conflict between our host family and us. There is no easy way to deal with or solve the situation similar to what Vivian and I have encountered. It is the dilamma that we continue to face until the day we finally move out and live on our own.
However, I am glad that I did speak up for myself. Sometime it is hard to be nice. I totally understand how Vivian felt that day. Hang in there, my friend Vivian dear!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - I Feel Great!
January 28, 2010
For the first time since I arrived in Azerbaijan, I feel great! It has been a terrible month for me. The flu, the accident, the trouble with my host sister and the cold weather, all these made me so depressed for the past few weeks, but today, I am really feeling wonderful.
Well, let me see why? First, today I received an e-mail from the Vice Chairman of the bank. “Chi, great job!” He is happy with my work. Second, my room is nice and warm since I got the antique heater from my host mother. Third, I received two packages in one week; one of them is from “J”. His package is the biggest and heaviest one so far, and forth, my sister sent me some Chinese DVDs, I have been watching them these past two days. Finally, when I looked at the mirror, I like the reflection of my face, it is healthy and glowing.
I think washing my face with the cold water helps. Every evening before I go to bed, I brush my teeth and wash my face with the icy cold water. There is no hot water in the bathroom. The gas runs low during the
peak evening hour, so I have been cleaning and washing with the freezing cold water from the tap. At first, it was painful. Both my hands and face turned to red and stiff. After a few days, I get used to it. I even start to like the feeling on my face after the wash. Maybe my altitude has changed; I turned the negative to positive so my life seems to be getting better and easier each day. Actually this week went by so fast. Before I realize it, it is already Friday.
I do not know how long this good feeling will last, but I am going to keep my chin up. Two years can be a long time or it can be a short one. It really depends on how you spend the time. I am beginning to learn how to pass my time here with a cheerful spirit. I think these two years will fly by very fast.
For the first time since I arrived in Azerbaijan, I feel great! It has been a terrible month for me. The flu, the accident, the trouble with my host sister and the cold weather, all these made me so depressed for the past few weeks, but today, I am really feeling wonderful.
Well, let me see why? First, today I received an e-mail from the Vice Chairman of the bank. “Chi, great job!” He is happy with my work. Second, my room is nice and warm since I got the antique heater from my host mother. Third, I received two packages in one week; one of them is from “J”. His package is the biggest and heaviest one so far, and forth, my sister sent me some Chinese DVDs, I have been watching them these past two days. Finally, when I looked at the mirror, I like the reflection of my face, it is healthy and glowing.
I think washing my face with the cold water helps. Every evening before I go to bed, I brush my teeth and wash my face with the icy cold water. There is no hot water in the bathroom. The gas runs low during the
peak evening hour, so I have been cleaning and washing with the freezing cold water from the tap. At first, it was painful. Both my hands and face turned to red and stiff. After a few days, I get used to it. I even start to like the feeling on my face after the wash. Maybe my altitude has changed; I turned the negative to positive so my life seems to be getting better and easier each day. Actually this week went by so fast. Before I realize it, it is already Friday.I do not know how long this good feeling will last, but I am going to keep my chin up. Two years can be a long time or it can be a short one. It really depends on how you spend the time. I am beginning to learn how to pass my time here with a cheerful spirit. I think these two years will fly by very fast.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
MY Life in Azerbaijan - Packages from Home
January 26, 2010
As of today, I received total eight packages from my friends and family. Even Peace Corps noticed that Chi Chan has lots of mail lately. Peace Corps office is not happy about it, because each package costs them 1.2 AZN (US$1.5). Yes, even you already paid the postage, when your package gets to my town; I still have to pay more postage. The extra postage I pay does not go to the post office, but somewhere else. You will figure that out, I cannot say or write anything about it.
Anyway, I just want to thank you for taking the time, effort and money to shop, to pack, to pay and to mail me the package. Each box costs a fortune (at least US$58) just for the postage. So, friends, you are my dear dear pal, and I cannot thank you enough. When I go back to the States, I will take you all to dinner.
Tim & Joanne: I enjoy drinking the instant coffee every morning
Linda: my co-workers in the bank love the banana snacks
Sister: I enjoy watching the HK DVDs and the “ugly” sweaters keep me warm at night
Wade & Sunny: the dried vegetables and sweets are just great
HY & Su: the little packages are perfect
“J” – I smile the whole day seeing your package.
A friend in need is a friend in deed. You are my true true friends! Thanks a millions.
As of today, I received total eight packages from my friends and family. Even Peace Corps noticed that Chi Chan has lots of mail lately. Peace Corps office is not happy about it, because each package costs them 1.2 AZN (US$1.5). Yes, even you already paid the postage, when your package gets to my town; I still have to pay more postage. The extra postage I pay does not go to the post office, but somewhere else. You will figure that out, I cannot say or write anything about it.
Anyway, I just want to thank you for taking the time, effort and money to shop, to pack, to pay and to mail me the package. Each box costs a fortune (at least US$58) just for the postage. So, friends, you are my dear dear pal, and I cannot thank you enough. When I go back to the States, I will take you all to dinner.
Tim & Joanne: I enjoy drinking the instant coffee every morning
Linda: my co-workers in the bank love the banana snacks
Sister: I enjoy watching the HK DVDs and the “ugly” sweaters keep me warm at night
Wade & Sunny: the dried vegetables and sweets are just great
HY & Su: the little packages are perfect
“J” – I smile the whole day seeing your package.
A friend in need is a friend in deed. You are my true true friends! Thanks a millions.
My Life in Azerbaijan - It is Snowing!
January 25, 2010
The town I live does not get snow often. According to my host sister, it only snowed 3 days last year. So, when it snows it is a big thing. I am not crazy about the snow or the winter here simply because it gets very cold. This week, snow finally arrived and my room was like an icebox.
Last night my host mother went into the chicken shed and found something to keep my room warm. Here it is! This thing probably is a thousand year old and is ugly, but it works. It keeps my room warm and dry. My town is next to the Caspian Sea, so in winter, not only it is cold but it is also very damp. Even on a sunny day, my laundries never got completely dried, so this “ancient thing” is really a good thing to have in my room.
I wish my host mother would put one in our toilet and one in the shower room. In Azerbaijan, toilet and shower rooms are built outside of the main house. (that is why they are called them the “outhouse”) I am lucky that my host family’s toilet is quite modern. It has a western toilet bowl, not the squat type, but no toilet seat (I never understood that!) The Azeri likes to keep their window open, even in the winter. So going to the toilet every night reminds me my camping trip in the Himalayas, cold, cold and cold! To avoid going out there at night in the dark with the freezing cold, I stop drinking tea around 9:00pm. As for the shower room, I have to let the hot water runs at least five minutes before getting any precious hot water. Often, in winter, there are “peak period” when every household is using the gas, so the hot water never got really hot. I made a mistake once to get up too late in the morning and ended up taking a cold shower. So, if I want to have a really hot shower in the winter, I have to get up before everyone.
These are just a few minor adjustments we, as Peace Corps Volunteers have to deal with. No big deal, summer is just around the corner, and I heard, it is extremely hot and humid!
The town I live does not get snow often. According to my host sister, it only snowed 3 days last year. So, when it snows it is a big thing. I am not crazy about the snow or the winter here simply because it gets very cold. This week, snow finally arrived and my room was like an icebox.
Last night my host mother went into the chicken shed and found something to keep my room warm. Here it is! This thing probably is a thousand year old and is ugly, but it works. It keeps my room warm and dry. My town is next to the Caspian Sea, so in winter, not only it is cold but it is also very damp. Even on a sunny day, my laundries never got completely dried, so this “ancient thing” is really a good thing to have in my room.
I wish my host mother would put one in our toilet and one in the shower room. In Azerbaijan, toilet and shower rooms are built outside of the main house. (that is why they are called them the “outhouse”) I am lucky that my host family’s toilet is quite modern. It has a western toilet bowl, not the squat type, but no toilet seat (I never understood that!) The Azeri likes to keep their window open, even in the winter. So going to the toilet every night reminds me my camping trip in the Himalayas, cold, cold and cold! To avoid going out there at night in the dark with the freezing cold, I stop drinking tea around 9:00pm. As for the shower room, I have to let the hot water runs at least five minutes before getting any precious hot water. Often, in winter, there are “peak period” when every household is using the gas, so the hot water never got really hot. I made a mistake once to get up too late in the morning and ended up taking a cold shower. So, if I want to have a really hot shower in the winter, I have to get up before everyone.
These are just a few minor adjustments we, as Peace Corps Volunteers have to deal with. No big deal, summer is just around the corner, and I heard, it is extremely hot and humid!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Misfortune Never Come Single
January 19, 2010
After being sick for a week, this morning I was feeling pretty good and ready to go out and save the world again!
The vice chairman of the bank I report to wanted to meet me at the HQ in Baku. He wants to go over the financial reports of the bank with me. The bank’s driver was scheduled
to pick me up 7:45am. I was very flattered so, I got up very early in the morning, did my routine washing and headed out to the door.
Outside, it was still very dark. Remember I mentioned before, there are no street lights any where in the town I live. I was a few minutes late so I half ran and half walked rushing to the meeting place. All the sudden, I felt my body flying forward, “bum!” I heard the sound of my head hitting the concrete floor. The next few seconds, I was scared, panic, and totally in shocked. I quickly picked myself up, looked around and found myself alone in the dark. I still did not know what just happened, but kept saying “Oh my god! my god!”. “Don’t panic Chi, don’t pass out, you are ok, calm down”.
I began to feel the pain on the right side of my head, so I first checked my right eye, and made sure I could see, then I turned my head slightly to be sure that I was actually alert and not hallucinating. Slowly, I regained my posture and remembered that I have to be somewhere. So, I started walking until I got to the place. The next few minutes, my head was playing that falling scene over and over again. I was still very confused, not knowing what actually just happened to me. I felt like to cry, but I held back my tears. “Be strong Chi, it will be OK soon”. On my way to Baku, I just sat in the car with a blank stare. The entire day, I had the most horrible self pity feeling in my stomach.
Next day, my eye was badly swollen, I found a few bruises on my leg and I also had a stiff neck, but other than that, I was fine. I went back to work again and passed the place I fell. A little dried blood still left on the spot where I had the fall. Right next to it was a tree root breaking out from the ground.
I must take a better care of myself. No one here watches over me. I guess that is what makes me feel so sad that day.
to pick me up 7:45am. I was very flattered so, I got up very early in the morning, did my routine washing and headed out to the door.Outside, it was still very dark. Remember I mentioned before, there are no street lights any where in the town I live. I was a few minutes late so I half ran and half walked rushing to the meeting place. All the sudden, I felt my body flying forward, “bum!” I heard the sound of my head hitting the concrete floor. The next few seconds, I was scared, panic, and totally in shocked. I quickly picked myself up, looked around and found myself alone in the dark. I still did not know what just happened, but kept saying “Oh my god! my god!”. “Don’t panic Chi, don’t pass out, you are ok, calm down”.
I began to feel the pain on the right side of my head, so I first checked my right eye, and made sure I could see, then I turned my head slightly to be sure that I was actually alert and not hallucinating. Slowly, I regained my posture and remembered that I have to be somewhere. So, I started walking until I got to the place. The next few minutes, my head was playing that falling scene over and over again. I was still very confused, not knowing what actually just happened to me. I felt like to cry, but I held back my tears. “Be strong Chi, it will be OK soon”. On my way to Baku, I just sat in the car with a blank stare. The entire day, I had the most horrible self pity feeling in my stomach.
Next day, my eye was badly swollen, I found a few bruises on my leg and I also had a stiff neck, but other than that, I was fine. I went back to work again and passed the place I fell. A little dried blood still left on the spot where I had the fall. Right next to it was a tree root breaking out from the ground.
I must take a better care of myself. No one here watches over me. I guess that is what makes me feel so sad that day.
My Life in Azerbaijan - Sick at Last
January 16, 2010
I have been sick a few times since I arrived in Azerbaijan. I had stomach problems, and all of them were foods and water related. After a few doses of the “pink stuff” I was back to be my cheerful self again. This week, however, I was ill, seriously ill: running nose, bad headache, fatigued, diarrhea, and dried cough. I felt like being hit by a train. I used up all my tissues plus my host family’s napkins. (my host mother was not too happy, she asked my host sister to start cutting the napkins into small pieces) The medications Peace Corps doctor gave me did not work. They were pills from Turkey. Everyone knows that the medicine in Azerbaijan is only “vitamin”. It is part of the corruption in this country. People will do anything just to make some money. Peace Corps has two doctors, the one educated in the US was out on duty and I ended up with the one educated in Azerbaijan, so I got the Azerbaijan pills.
I have been very careful, keep up with my exercise, wash my hands often, stay away from crowded area and take my daily long walk. I even got the flu shot from Peace Corps a month ago, but I still end up with the flu. I think I got it in the “Death Anniversary” party, 160 guests I greeted that day. My host sisters and I were both sick the same week, but my symptoms were worst than her. My host sister is always very kind to me. She made me some Azerbaijani remedies which were drinks from some sour dried fruits that her mother preserved. They did not work so well, but at least someone cared for me while I was sick. I thank her for that.
It is miserable to be alone and sick. No one will be there to give you medicine, to hand you a glass of water, to clean your mess (if any), to take your temperature, to remind you taking medicine, to cover you with a blanket, to comfort you. You sit in a dark room, wear the same cloths for a week, with greasy hair and running nose, tissues everywhere and wish for a bowl of hot soup. Get the picture?
It is sad to be sick and alone. I hope I do not have to go through this again. I will double my exercise when I feel better again….
I have been sick a few times since I arrived in Azerbaijan. I had stomach problems, and all of them were foods and water related. After a few doses of the “pink stuff” I was back to be my cheerful self again. This week, however, I was ill, seriously ill: running nose, bad headache, fatigued, diarrhea, and dried cough. I felt like being hit by a train. I used up all my tissues plus my host family’s napkins. (my host mother was not too happy, she asked my host sister to start cutting the napkins into small pieces) The medications Peace Corps doctor gave me did not work. They were pills from Turkey. Everyone knows that the medicine in Azerbaijan is only “vitamin”. It is part of the corruption in this country. People will do anything just to make some money. Peace Corps has two doctors, the one educated in the US was out on duty and I ended up with the one educated in Azerbaijan, so I got the Azerbaijan pills.
I have been very careful, keep up with my exercise, wash my hands often, stay away from crowded area and take my daily long walk. I even got the flu shot from Peace Corps a month ago, but I still end up with the flu. I think I got it in the “Death Anniversary” party, 160 guests I greeted that day. My host sisters and I were both sick the same week, but my symptoms were worst than her. My host sister is always very kind to me. She made me some Azerbaijani remedies which were drinks from some sour dried fruits that her mother preserved. They did not work so well, but at least someone cared for me while I was sick. I thank her for that.
It is miserable to be alone and sick. No one will be there to give you medicine, to hand you a glass of water, to clean your mess (if any), to take your temperature, to remind you taking medicine, to cover you with a blanket, to comfort you. You sit in a dark room, wear the same cloths for a week, with greasy hair and running nose, tissues everywhere and wish for a bowl of hot soup. Get the picture?
It is sad to be sick and alone. I hope I do not have to go through this again. I will double my exercise when I feel better again….
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Death Anniversary, another sad day for me!
January 10, 2010
Tooday is the 1st anniversary of Baba’s (grandfather) death. It is a big thing for the Azerbaijan family. My
host family rents a place for this special event and 160 guests are expected to come. We have to cook for 160 people. Of course, I have to attend and help.
Last night, we went to the place and counted 160 plates, cups, China, forts, spoons and many miscellaneous utensils. My host mother told everyone that Chi would be responsible clearing all the dishes. Somehow, I always end up doing the family’s dishes!
We arrive at the place around 9:00am. All the women, (not men, Azeri man does not do any housework) begin to get busy. Some start the fire in the kitchen, some boil the water for tea, and some cut breads, vegetables etc, endless of preparation work. Around 10:00am, a woman (who is hired to cry) arrives and begins to cry! Nene sits next to this crying woman and also starts to cry. I am sure Nene’s tear is more real. One strange thing about the Azerbaijan culture, in the ceremony, men sit with men, women sit with women, men do not talk to women, women are not allowed to serve foods (but they are allowed to cook and clear); either to men or women. This is a big gender issue for me. There are a lot of other things that women are not allowed to do in this country. Women
are not allowed to go out at night, not allow to enter to a coffee shop, not allow to sit next to a man in the bus, not allowed to be seen in the public with a single man, not allowed to smoke, not allowed to drink outside of her home…..etc.
When the guests slowly arrive, I become my host family’s trophy again. “Chi, come meet my uncle, aunt, cousin, her neighbor, her mother-in-law, her friend…..”, “Chi is from America”, “Chi, come here, Chi, now, come here!” Then, they all stare at me and talk endlessly about me, right in front of me! Some people never see a foreigner before so their eyes just keep following me. They laugh when I drink tea, they giggle when I drop my spoon; they nearly have a heart attack when I begin to speak to my host sister with a language other than Azerbaijani. My host family and host sisters all enjoy all these attention but I am just so sick of it. SICK OF IT! I keep telling myself, I did this for Nene, only for nene..
I went through scene like this hundred of times since I arrived in Azerbaijan. I got so very tired of it already. When more guests arrive, I hide myself in the kitchen. “Chi, come here, come out of the kitchen and meet my cousin!” God, how much I hate this. A few times, I just ignore my host sister’s demand and keep washing my dishes. Right now washing 160*8 (my host mother insists on washing all the paper cups, I refuse!) dishes seem to be a better deal for me. My host sister gets very upset with me when I ignore her order. “The hell with you!” I say it loud in English, no one understands anyway. After a few tries, she finally gives up and leaves me alone. The following day, I wake up with a running nose, headache and a bad cold. After being touched and kissed so many times, I finally get the germs from some sick ladies!
I know I am different, I know I am American but with a “Ci” face, I know I am special. I know all that, but I am not a “monkey” or “alien”, I have two eyes, one mouth, two ears, and one noise, just like the rest of them. “Stay with us for 2 years Chi, why not?” My host sister often asked me this question. I think the answer is obvious.
Tooday is the 1st anniversary of Baba’s (grandfather) death. It is a big thing for the Azerbaijan family. My
host family rents a place for this special event and 160 guests are expected to come. We have to cook for 160 people. Of course, I have to attend and help.Last night, we went to the place and counted 160 plates, cups, China, forts, spoons and many miscellaneous utensils. My host mother told everyone that Chi would be responsible clearing all the dishes. Somehow, I always end up doing the family’s dishes!
We arrive at the place around 9:00am. All the women, (not men, Azeri man does not do any housework) begin to get busy. Some start the fire in the kitchen, some boil the water for tea, and some cut breads, vegetables etc, endless of preparation work. Around 10:00am, a woman (who is hired to cry) arrives and begins to cry! Nene sits next to this crying woman and also starts to cry. I am sure Nene’s tear is more real. One strange thing about the Azerbaijan culture, in the ceremony, men sit with men, women sit with women, men do not talk to women, women are not allowed to serve foods (but they are allowed to cook and clear); either to men or women. This is a big gender issue for me. There are a lot of other things that women are not allowed to do in this country. Women
are not allowed to go out at night, not allow to enter to a coffee shop, not allow to sit next to a man in the bus, not allowed to be seen in the public with a single man, not allowed to smoke, not allowed to drink outside of her home…..etc.When the guests slowly arrive, I become my host family’s trophy again. “Chi, come meet my uncle, aunt, cousin, her neighbor, her mother-in-law, her friend…..”, “Chi is from America”, “Chi, come here, Chi, now, come here!” Then, they all stare at me and talk endlessly about me, right in front of me! Some people never see a foreigner before so their eyes just keep following me. They laugh when I drink tea, they giggle when I drop my spoon; they nearly have a heart attack when I begin to speak to my host sister with a language other than Azerbaijani. My host family and host sisters all enjoy all these attention but I am just so sick of it. SICK OF IT! I keep telling myself, I did this for Nene, only for nene..
I went through scene like this hundred of times since I arrived in Azerbaijan. I got so very tired of it already. When more guests arrive, I hide myself in the kitchen. “Chi, come here, come out of the kitchen and meet my cousin!” God, how much I hate this. A few times, I just ignore my host sister’s demand and keep washing my dishes. Right now washing 160*8 (my host mother insists on washing all the paper cups, I refuse!) dishes seem to be a better deal for me. My host sister gets very upset with me when I ignore her order. “The hell with you!” I say it loud in English, no one understands anyway. After a few tries, she finally gives up and leaves me alone. The following day, I wake up with a running nose, headache and a bad cold. After being touched and kissed so many times, I finally get the germs from some sick ladies!
I know I am different, I know I am American but with a “Ci” face, I know I am special. I know all that, but I am not a “monkey” or “alien”, I have two eyes, one mouth, two ears, and one noise, just like the rest of them. “Stay with us for 2 years Chi, why not?” My host sister often asked me this question. I think the answer is obvious.
Monday, January 11, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Hi Gloria
January 10, 2010
My friend Gloria surprised me today. I got a phone call from her. She wanted to call me for a long time. I did not want her to spend so much money, so I never gave her my number. Somehow, she got it from someone, (who would that be?) and called me anyway. Cox Sagol, Gloria! (Thank you very much)
The connection was not so good. After a minute or so, we got disconnected. I was depressed before she called, and after talking to her, I felt much better. So, here it is: 011-994-50787-0174, anyone wants to make me happy.
There are many problems that cause my unhappiness here. Those problems are mainly related to my host family. Peace Corps discourages us to write any bad things about Azerbaijan, including our organization; our host family or anything bad about our host country. Last week I was so angry with “the situation” that I nearly wanted to move out regardless what Peace Corps will do. Then, I calmed down, bit my lips and moved on.
I really cannot wait to live on my own, but with the allowance I receive from Peace Corps (226 AZN per month) I do not know how I can manage to move out. The rent alone costs between 130-250 AZN a month. For now, all I can do is to pray every night, asking God to help me.
My friend Gloria surprised me today. I got a phone call from her. She wanted to call me for a long time. I did not want her to spend so much money, so I never gave her my number. Somehow, she got it from someone, (who would that be?) and called me anyway. Cox Sagol, Gloria! (Thank you very much)
The connection was not so good. After a minute or so, we got disconnected. I was depressed before she called, and after talking to her, I felt much better. So, here it is: 011-994-50787-0174, anyone wants to make me happy.
There are many problems that cause my unhappiness here. Those problems are mainly related to my host family. Peace Corps discourages us to write any bad things about Azerbaijan, including our organization; our host family or anything bad about our host country. Last week I was so angry with “the situation” that I nearly wanted to move out regardless what Peace Corps will do. Then, I calmed down, bit my lips and moved on.
I really cannot wait to live on my own, but with the allowance I receive from Peace Corps (226 AZN per month) I do not know how I can manage to move out. The rent alone costs between 130-250 AZN a month. For now, all I can do is to pray every night, asking God to help me.
My Life in Azerbaijan - The Special Tree
January 8, 2010
Everyday after work, I walk home. If I walk fast, it usually takes me about an hour and 15 minutes to get home. I enjoy this walk. When I walk, I observe things around me. As a result, I begin to notice things, beautiful things which I would have missed if I took a bus home instead.
The bank I work is located next to the Caspian Sea. The area is quiet. It has some of the nicest boulevards in town. The avenue which I take my daily walk is very wide, relatively clean, and with less traffic. The apartments in the neighborhoods are very old but have some nice European features, high ceiling with a charming little balcony, but what attracts me the most is the olive tree growing along the sidewalk of every street.
I first noticed the tree by its fruits, but were not sure what they were. Most of my PCV friends are not nature lovers so no one could really tell me the name of the tree. Until one day, my teacher told me that it was the olive tree. Once I found out what they are, I could not help but looking at them everyday as I walk underneath them. There are still some small olives on the branches, some of them are block and some of them are green. The Azerbaijani would pick them in the fall and pickle them for the winter.
The olive tree is not very tall, and its leaves are small with dark green color. Judging by its appearance, you would not say it is a beautiful tree. For me, however, it is a special tree. It reminds me the healthy olive oil I used to put in my salad at home. This tree is the closest thing that connects me back home, maybe that is why I like it so much.
Everyday after work, I walk home. If I walk fast, it usually takes me about an hour and 15 minutes to get home. I enjoy this walk. When I walk, I observe things around me. As a result, I begin to notice things, beautiful things which I would have missed if I took a bus home instead.
The bank I work is located next to the Caspian Sea. The area is quiet. It has some of the nicest boulevards in town. The avenue which I take my daily walk is very wide, relatively clean, and with less traffic. The apartments in the neighborhoods are very old but have some nice European features, high ceiling with a charming little balcony, but what attracts me the most is the olive tree growing along the sidewalk of every street.
I first noticed the tree by its fruits, but were not sure what they were. Most of my PCV friends are not nature lovers so no one could really tell me the name of the tree. Until one day, my teacher told me that it was the olive tree. Once I found out what they are, I could not help but looking at them everyday as I walk underneath them. There are still some small olives on the branches, some of them are block and some of them are green. The Azerbaijani would pick them in the fall and pickle them for the winter.
The olive tree is not very tall, and its leaves are small with dark green color. Judging by its appearance, you would not say it is a beautiful tree. For me, however, it is a special tree. It reminds me the healthy olive oil I used to put in my salad at home. This tree is the closest thing that connects me back home, maybe that is why I like it so much.
My Life in Azerbaijan - The place I work, CD rate 21%
January 7, 2010
Peace Corps warned us many times, in our “Face book” or “Blog”, not to disclose the place we live, the place we work and also not to mention anyone’s name we know. There will be consequences if we do not follow the rule. So in my blog, I can only tell you that I work for a bank in Azerbaijan.
These are the nice people I work with. They are wonderful and even with the language barrier; they are willing to help me whenever I needed. We often use sign language to communicate and as such, laugh a lot wit
h our funny expressions. They tried their best to make me feel comfortable. They often told me “Ci, problem yoxdur” (No problem), “Ci, cay icirsan?” (you have tea yet?) The two girls who sit next to me often bring me cookies, pastries and chocolates.
Compared to the company QBE, the American I used to work for, it is such a big difference. I still remember how isolated I felt the first day I joined the company. The corporate environment in America can be very cold, unfriendly and sometimes, quite crude. I do not miss it at all and I do not think I will ever want to go back working for the “Wall Street” again.
One more thing about my bank (or any bank in Azerbaijan), the interest rate the bank charged is extremely high. Average rate for a small loan is 36% and can go up to 46%! But if you are willing to invest US dollar here, the CD pays up to 21% per year. Wow, I am thinking…..
Peace Corps warned us many times, in our “Face book” or “Blog”, not to disclose the place we live, the place we work and also not to mention anyone’s name we know. There will be consequences if we do not follow the rule. So in my blog, I can only tell you that I work for a bank in Azerbaijan.
These are the nice people I work with. They are wonderful and even with the language barrier; they are willing to help me whenever I needed. We often use sign language to communicate and as such, laugh a lot wit
h our funny expressions. They tried their best to make me feel comfortable. They often told me “Ci, problem yoxdur” (No problem), “Ci, cay icirsan?” (you have tea yet?) The two girls who sit next to me often bring me cookies, pastries and chocolates.Compared to the company QBE, the American I used to work for, it is such a big difference. I still remember how isolated I felt the first day I joined the company. The corporate environment in America can be very cold, unfriendly and sometimes, quite crude. I do not miss it at all and I do not think I will ever want to go back working for the “Wall Street” again.
One more thing about my bank (or any bank in Azerbaijan), the interest rate the bank charged is extremely high. Average rate for a small loan is 36% and can go up to 46%! But if you are willing to invest US dollar here, the CD pays up to 21% per year. Wow, I am thinking…..
My Life in Azerbaijan - New Year Eve and Confront my Fear
December 31, 2009
New Year is a big thing in Azerbaijan. Since two days before the holiday, my host family
’s kitchen was already very busy. BiBi (aunt), my host sisters’ aunt came from Ganja to help. Of course, I was told (not asked) to help. I did not mind helping, as a matter of fact, I do want to learn how to cook and make cookies.
The holiday meals for Azerbaijan are identical for each family and for each holiday as well. There are always lots of salad, chicken salad, carrot salad, cheese salad, vegetable salad, salad in a roll, salad in a bow, salad on a plate etc. On top of that are the “National Meals”: kebab, plov,
dolma, roasted chicken with stuffing (which was the most delicious of all meals!), and finally, the deserts: a huge cake, many cookies and fruits.
New Year Eve d
ay, after finished breakfast, five women were busy cooking in the kitchen. My jobs were to cut, peel, wash and cut more. They did not trust me to do any cooking. By the time I finished cutting, my hands hurt so much. Around 9:00pm, Ata (father) and Nene (grandmother) came home from the farm and Ata had wine and other drinks for the holiday. Usually, Azerbaijan female is not allowed to drink, but my host family is very open. Hekim, the elder sister (I like her a lot) likes to drink, so I had a drinking partner. Hekim can drink! Both of us had fun that night. Every one in the family was surprise to see me getting a little bit crazy, but they allowed Hekim and I have some fun and did not say any thing. You can see how much fun I had that night!
When midnight arrived, we climbed up to th
e roof of the chicken shed and played fireworks. I screamed like I was in America (with the help of the wine, of course) and my host sisters thought that I was very funny. After my host sisters went to bed, I stayed a little bit longer on the roof top to watch the stars. A lot of thoughts came to my mind. 2010 New Year Eve indeed was a very special night for me. I was in a foreign land, with three lovely and wonderful host sisters but there is something else, something else that I frustrated me for so long….I need to work it out.
New Year is a big thing in Azerbaijan. Since two days before the holiday, my host family
’s kitchen was already very busy. BiBi (aunt), my host sisters’ aunt came from Ganja to help. Of course, I was told (not asked) to help. I did not mind helping, as a matter of fact, I do want to learn how to cook and make cookies.The holiday meals for Azerbaijan are identical for each family and for each holiday as well. There are always lots of salad, chicken salad, carrot salad, cheese salad, vegetable salad, salad in a roll, salad in a bow, salad on a plate etc. On top of that are the “National Meals”: kebab, plov,
dolma, roasted chicken with stuffing (which was the most delicious of all meals!), and finally, the deserts: a huge cake, many cookies and fruits.New Year Eve d
ay, after finished breakfast, five women were busy cooking in the kitchen. My jobs were to cut, peel, wash and cut more. They did not trust me to do any cooking. By the time I finished cutting, my hands hurt so much. Around 9:00pm, Ata (father) and Nene (grandmother) came home from the farm and Ata had wine and other drinks for the holiday. Usually, Azerbaijan female is not allowed to drink, but my host family is very open. Hekim, the elder sister (I like her a lot) likes to drink, so I had a drinking partner. Hekim can drink! Both of us had fun that night. Every one in the family was surprise to see me getting a little bit crazy, but they allowed Hekim and I have some fun and did not say any thing. You can see how much fun I had that night!When midnight arrived, we climbed up to th
e roof of the chicken shed and played fireworks. I screamed like I was in America (with the help of the wine, of course) and my host sisters thought that I was very funny. After my host sisters went to bed, I stayed a little bit longer on the roof top to watch the stars. A lot of thoughts came to my mind. 2010 New Year Eve indeed was a very special night for me. I was in a foreign land, with three lovely and wonderful host sisters but there is something else, something else that I frustrated me for so long….I need to work it out.Monday, January 04, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - My Nene (grandmother) is Sad
January 1, 2010 
This is the 3rd time I saw Nene cry and I finally understand why. Like every family in the world, there are always problems behind the closed door. I have no intention to get involved with people’s business, but when I saw Nene cry, I wanted to comfort her.
Nene left the house alone, so I chased after her and accompanied her for a walk. As soon as I held her arm, then she began to talk and soon, tears rolling down from her chin. I did not understand everything she said, but I knew what made her sad. “NeNe,Ebi Yoxdur” (Never mind it, grandma) was all I could say to her.
NeNe reminds me of my own grandmother. I wish I could spend more time with my grandmother before she passed away. The week she died, I had a dream about her. A week later, I received a phone call from my sister about her death. At that time, I was waiting for my US citizenship papers, so I could not attend her funeral. I still remember how devastated and sad I was that night.
Besides for “J”, my heart always has a soft spot for elder people. I feel it is my duty to care for them, even to a total stranger. Finally, with my broken Azerbaijani, I sat down and gave my host sisters words of advice, “Nene is old, be kind to her”.
This is the 3rd time I saw Nene cry and I finally understand why. Like every family in the world, there are always problems behind the closed door. I have no intention to get involved with people’s business, but when I saw Nene cry, I wanted to comfort her.
Nene left the house alone, so I chased after her and accompanied her for a walk. As soon as I held her arm, then she began to talk and soon, tears rolling down from her chin. I did not understand everything she said, but I knew what made her sad. “NeNe,Ebi Yoxdur” (Never mind it, grandma) was all I could say to her.
NeNe reminds me of my own grandmother. I wish I could spend more time with my grandmother before she passed away. The week she died, I had a dream about her. A week later, I received a phone call from my sister about her death. At that time, I was waiting for my US citizenship papers, so I could not attend her funeral. I still remember how devastated and sad I was that night.
Besides for “J”, my heart always has a soft spot for elder people. I feel it is my duty to care for them, even to a total stranger. Finally, with my broken Azerbaijani, I sat down and gave my host sisters words of advice, “Nene is old, be kind to her”.
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