May 26, 2010
It has been a week that I am not feeling well. Everyday, it starts with dizziness in my head first, and then escalates to headache and by noon; I would be completely exhausted mentally. Yesterday at work, the symptom became so sever that I had to call Peace Corps doctor to get me home. Dr. Faud came right away and he took my blood pressure: 160/92!
My blood pressure is always normal. It was just a week ago that my blood pressure was 116/76 (normal 120/80). “Is your work very stressful?” Dr. Faud asked. Compare to what I used to do in Wall Street, the work here at the bank is nothing. “Let us follow up with this, take a few days off, don’t go to work, stop drinking coffee and tea, I will call you tomorrow” then he left. Today, the dizziness continues, again the headache. I am very frustrated! I did everything to keep myself healthy, the daily long walk, eating right, and the positive altitude. Why does my blood pressure become so high suddenly?
The only stress that I have is the constant “stares” and the verbal harassment from the teenagers during my daily walk. I have already come to accept the fact that the situation will never change, so I face them bravely every day. I thought I got over it already!
“You are like an animal in a cage, constantly being watched by them. You can suppress your stress but they are still there Chi!”
My PCV friend gave me her words of advice. She is on her way back to the US. (10th PCV from AZ7 quitting the Peace Corps) A month ago, her blood pressure was sky high due to her stress. She decided to call a quit. As soon as she made her decision to leave, her blood pressure went back to normal again. I pondered her comment and I nearly got emotional. Perhaps my stress is real.
Will I get better? Time will tell. I will deal with it, one day at a time.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Another Mishap, another Disillusionment
May 22, 2010
Woke up this morning, I heard another plane crashed in southern India. Another 158 people have died. It was just a week ago that a plane crashed in Libya and everyone died except a little boy. What is happening to the world? What is happening to mankind? Were those accidents act of God or they were tragedies that we, human, inflicted upon ourselves?
Modern technology has better our daily life, but it comes with a price, at times, too high to comprehend. “I craved for the past, resented the present, and dreaded the future” Wilfred Thesiger wrote in his famous book the “Arabian Sands”. He detested modernization; resented what the shoddy and materialistic world had done to the Arabian Peninsula. Although I don’t agree his point of view totally, I do sympathize his feeling. Often, I found myself struggling between two worlds: the modern and the still not fully developed world, like Azerbaijan, where old values still exist.
…our search for a future that works keeps spiraling back to an ancient connection between ourselves and the earth, an interconnectedness that ancient cultures have never abandoned.
Most of the Azeri youngsters whom I met welcome the modern technologies, skills and western cultures that Peace Corps volunteers offer. The university students in Baku loved the “sexy” dance that the American showed them during the “American Day”. Watching the young girls’ bodies twisting and swinging sexually alongside their male friends, I wonder what their parents will react if they see it.
Azerbaijan is still a conservative country. Most villages, single male and female are not allowed to go on a date. They cannot be seen in the public walking together. This seemingly repulsive culture may sound intolerable for the American, but it was the way of life that their parents, their grand parents and their great grand parents believed in. We, as an outsiders, are supposed to respect this ancient ethnicity or reject it just because our society does not believe in it?
I wish I had the answer but I don’t. Maybe I am old fashion, I still love to travel to remote places where cars and plants cannot penetrate and where something of the old ways still survive…..but those places have becoming less and less…..
Woke up this morning, I heard another plane crashed in southern India. Another 158 people have died. It was just a week ago that a plane crashed in Libya and everyone died except a little boy. What is happening to the world? What is happening to mankind? Were those accidents act of God or they were tragedies that we, human, inflicted upon ourselves?
Modern technology has better our daily life, but it comes with a price, at times, too high to comprehend. “I craved for the past, resented the present, and dreaded the future” Wilfred Thesiger wrote in his famous book the “Arabian Sands”. He detested modernization; resented what the shoddy and materialistic world had done to the Arabian Peninsula. Although I don’t agree his point of view totally, I do sympathize his feeling. Often, I found myself struggling between two worlds: the modern and the still not fully developed world, like Azerbaijan, where old values still exist.
…our search for a future that works keeps spiraling back to an ancient connection between ourselves and the earth, an interconnectedness that ancient cultures have never abandoned.
Most of the Azeri youngsters whom I met welcome the modern technologies, skills and western cultures that Peace Corps volunteers offer. The university students in Baku loved the “sexy” dance that the American showed them during the “American Day”. Watching the young girls’ bodies twisting and swinging sexually alongside their male friends, I wonder what their parents will react if they see it.
Azerbaijan is still a conservative country. Most villages, single male and female are not allowed to go on a date. They cannot be seen in the public walking together. This seemingly repulsive culture may sound intolerable for the American, but it was the way of life that their parents, their grand parents and their great grand parents believed in. We, as an outsiders, are supposed to respect this ancient ethnicity or reject it just because our society does not believe in it?
I wish I had the answer but I don’t. Maybe I am old fashion, I still love to travel to remote places where cars and plants cannot penetrate and where something of the old ways still survive…..but those places have becoming less and less…..
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - I am Fine!
May 19, 2010
I have been receiving e-mails from home concerning my happiness here:
“Come home, you don’t have to suffer!”
“Are you ok, so and so told me you are not having a good time there”
“What the hell, it is not worth it, come home Chi”
I WILL NOT! For the last time, no way will I quit Peace Corps and that is final!
First, let me clarify, yes, I am having ups and downs here, (who does not?) and yes, my living conditions are well below my standards in New York, and yes, I miss a lot of things I love in New York. However, I am willing to give them all up temporally in exchange for the Peace Corps experience. I join Peace Corps not because I am unemployed in New York, not because I need to escape problems back home, not because I hate my life in America, and definitely not because I need a long vacation!
My reason to join Peace Corps cannot be described in just one or two sentences, but it all comes down to three words “Giving it back”. I am not rich, but I don’t have to worry about paying bills. I am not unhappy with my life for I have accomplished many dreams. I could have retired early, or got an easy job and be satisfied for the rest of life, but I often asked myself, is that what my life all about? Everything I did up to the summer of 2009 was all about myself, my life, my happiness, what about others, especially those I had met in Sudan, Tanzania, Venezuela, Nepal, Peru and China. Those hungry eyes, dirty faces and sick bodies were imprinted so deeply in my heart that my happiness alone is no longer enough.
“There is a candle in your heart, waiting to be kindled
There is a void in your soul, waiting to be filled
Do you feel it?”
I did not make a rush decision to join Peace Corps. I contemplated this life for three years, little obstacle is not going to make me quit. So my friends back home, if you want to cheer me up, send me words of encouragement, instead of making personal judgment about my happiness. Only I know whether I am happy or not.
I have been receiving e-mails from home concerning my happiness here:
“Come home, you don’t have to suffer!”
“Are you ok, so and so told me you are not having a good time there”
“What the hell, it is not worth it, come home Chi”
I WILL NOT! For the last time, no way will I quit Peace Corps and that is final!
First, let me clarify, yes, I am having ups and downs here, (who does not?) and yes, my living conditions are well below my standards in New York, and yes, I miss a lot of things I love in New York. However, I am willing to give them all up temporally in exchange for the Peace Corps experience. I join Peace Corps not because I am unemployed in New York, not because I need to escape problems back home, not because I hate my life in America, and definitely not because I need a long vacation!
My reason to join Peace Corps cannot be described in just one or two sentences, but it all comes down to three words “Giving it back”. I am not rich, but I don’t have to worry about paying bills. I am not unhappy with my life for I have accomplished many dreams. I could have retired early, or got an easy job and be satisfied for the rest of life, but I often asked myself, is that what my life all about? Everything I did up to the summer of 2009 was all about myself, my life, my happiness, what about others, especially those I had met in Sudan, Tanzania, Venezuela, Nepal, Peru and China. Those hungry eyes, dirty faces and sick bodies were imprinted so deeply in my heart that my happiness alone is no longer enough.
“There is a candle in your heart, waiting to be kindled
There is a void in your soul, waiting to be filled
Do you feel it?”
I did not make a rush decision to join Peace Corps. I contemplated this life for three years, little obstacle is not going to make me quit. So my friends back home, if you want to cheer me up, send me words of encouragement, instead of making personal judgment about my happiness. Only I know whether I am happy or not.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - I Made the Connection
May 18, 2010
After the incident with the three dreadful teenage boys, I freak out every time when I see teenage boys. They are never alone, always a group of three, four or six. Few days ago, a group of them even blew me a kiss. For God's sick, I am old enough to be their mother, when is this going to end!
I have been very careful. During my daily walk, I try my best to stay away from them. When I spot them from a distance, I immediately take a detour. If I see them walking towards me, at once, I cross the street to avoid them. Sometimes when I have no choice passing them, I stay close to some elderly people, or hide behind them for some protection. This “teenage-boy phobia” for a while drives me insane. But I have been firm; I will not become a prison of my own apartment, so I continue to take my daily long walk regardless how many detours I have to take. Two days ago, I finally made a connection with these “ill-disciplined creatures”.
Summer is approaching to my town and the Sea is full of people. School is over and boys are everywhere inside the Park. Two days ago, a group of 15-20 teenage boys were out jagging by the Sea. When I encountered them, they were taking a break. Of course, I froze as soon as I saw them. They noticed me right away and watched me for a few seconds. “Idman?” (exercise?) I had no idea where I got the strength to talk to them. Instantly, there was a burst of laugh and cheer “hello, hello, how are you? How old are you?” I waved, smiled and jumped up and down to show them, I “idman” too. The tallest boy put his thumb up, praising me. (in Azerbaijan, no woman do exercise)
Today, I saw them again. They were running pass me. As soon as they saw me, they cheered and waved and smiled, and said hello. I guess the “idman” made the connection between us. Maybe teenage boys are not so bad after all. I will give them another chance.
After the incident with the three dreadful teenage boys, I freak out every time when I see teenage boys. They are never alone, always a group of three, four or six. Few days ago, a group of them even blew me a kiss. For God's sick, I am old enough to be their mother, when is this going to end!
I have been very careful. During my daily walk, I try my best to stay away from them. When I spot them from a distance, I immediately take a detour. If I see them walking towards me, at once, I cross the street to avoid them. Sometimes when I have no choice passing them, I stay close to some elderly people, or hide behind them for some protection. This “teenage-boy phobia” for a while drives me insane. But I have been firm; I will not become a prison of my own apartment, so I continue to take my daily long walk regardless how many detours I have to take. Two days ago, I finally made a connection with these “ill-disciplined creatures”.
Summer is approaching to my town and the Sea is full of people. School is over and boys are everywhere inside the Park. Two days ago, a group of 15-20 teenage boys were out jagging by the Sea. When I encountered them, they were taking a break. Of course, I froze as soon as I saw them. They noticed me right away and watched me for a few seconds. “Idman?” (exercise?) I had no idea where I got the strength to talk to them. Instantly, there was a burst of laugh and cheer “hello, hello, how are you? How old are you?” I waved, smiled and jumped up and down to show them, I “idman” too. The tallest boy put his thumb up, praising me. (in Azerbaijan, no woman do exercise)
Today, I saw them again. They were running pass me. As soon as they saw me, they cheered and waved and smiled, and said hello. I guess the “idman” made the connection between us. Maybe teenage boys are not so bad after all. I will give them another chance.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Lovely Creatures
May 13, 2010Here are four little lovely creatures that I discovered few weeks ago. They were born about a month ago and are abandoned by their mother. Right now they are living in the basement of my building. At night, they sleep in the cellar and during the day time when the sun is out; they would come out and bath under the sun. Everyone in the building is feeding them to make sure they are not hungry.
Every morning and every afternoon when I go out to and come back from work, I greet them with gentleness. They were afraid of me first. As soon as they saw me, they would run back and hide behind the doorway to the cellar but still watching me with those timorous eyes. One time, one of them was so frightened that it ran itself to the wall and bounced back to the floor. It was so cute! Lately, I found them growing more fearless each day. Yesterday, three of them let me touch them, except that little silly one who continued to run itself to the wall. I hope it did not hurt its head.
I have been thinking to adopt one of them but I discounted the idea right away. They look so happy together, playing, sleeping and cozying with each other. They do not have a mother but they have each other. I will be happy to greet them everyday. They should be free and wild instead of confining inside my apartment.
May Allah protect them!
My Life in Azerbaijan - Doesn't take much to make me happy
May 12, 2010
Section of the path that I take my daily walk passes a dense wooded area. It has becoming my favorite part of the walk. One of the reasons is because it has less people around and I receive less stares and u
nwanted attention. Another reason is because its nice setting. Each day, temperature in my town is getting hotter. With the humidity coming from the Sea, usually I would be sweating quite uncomfortably by the time I pass this section. However once I enter this dense forest area, everything changes.
I can still see the late afternoon hot sun above me, but I am completely sheltered by the canopy of this dense wooded area. Inside this “green tunnel” the hot breeze from the Caspian Sea transforms into a cool draft. It is so soothing, so gentle so relaxing and so ever welcoming. With all the cheerful birds singing around me, I find myself wanting to linger here more everyday.
These past two days, I have been noticing a light fragrant every time I pass there. When I look, I see nothing but tall trees. This sweet-scented lightens my spirit and adds more enjoyment to my walk. Today I am determined to find its source. Again, as soon as I enter into this section, here comes the sweet fragrant again. I keep looking up to locate THE flower and I nearly run into a couple. I feel so embarrassed and it is then I find THE flower! It is a small shrubbery right underneath a pine tree next to my feet. You really have to look very carefully to find it. This little bush is covered with young green leaves and between those shinning foliage are the tiny yellow flowers. It is those little yellow flowers that give away the aromatic smell. Immediately I pick a few and bring home with me.
I put them in water and it is right next to me when I am writing my journal. Uh, I am happy, very happy to find this little charming flower in Azerbaijan. It really does not take much to make me happy! Tomorrow, I will go back there and pick more…
Section of the path that I take my daily walk passes a dense wooded area. It has becoming my favorite part of the walk. One of the reasons is because it has less people around and I receive less stares and u
nwanted attention. Another reason is because its nice setting. Each day, temperature in my town is getting hotter. With the humidity coming from the Sea, usually I would be sweating quite uncomfortably by the time I pass this section. However once I enter this dense forest area, everything changes.I can still see the late afternoon hot sun above me, but I am completely sheltered by the canopy of this dense wooded area. Inside this “green tunnel” the hot breeze from the Caspian Sea transforms into a cool draft. It is so soothing, so gentle so relaxing and so ever welcoming. With all the cheerful birds singing around me, I find myself wanting to linger here more everyday.
These past two days, I have been noticing a light fragrant every time I pass there. When I look, I see nothing but tall trees. This sweet-scented lightens my spirit and adds more enjoyment to my walk. Today I am determined to find its source. Again, as soon as I enter into this section, here comes the sweet fragrant again. I keep looking up to locate THE flower and I nearly run into a couple. I feel so embarrassed and it is then I find THE flower! It is a small shrubbery right underneath a pine tree next to my feet. You really have to look very carefully to find it. This little bush is covered with young green leaves and between those shinning foliage are the tiny yellow flowers. It is those little yellow flowers that give away the aromatic smell. Immediately I pick a few and bring home with me.
I put them in water and it is right next to me when I am writing my journal. Uh, I am happy, very happy to find this little charming flower in Azerbaijan. It really does not take much to make me happy! Tomorrow, I will go back there and pick more…
Saturday, May 08, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - The Best "Shit" Story
May 2, 2010
This past week, we had a 2-day Peace Corps training in Baku. It was nice seeing all my PCV friends again; Vivian, Carol, Catherine and many mores. We exchanged news, gossips, traveling plans and the “Shit” stories. Among all the elderly PCVs’ “Shit” stories, the most impressive one has to be the one told by Catherine Brookskenyon.
Back when we had our orientation in Philadelphia, Catherine was my roommate. This time, we arranged to be roommate again so we could spend the night catching up. Catherine has lost some weight but she looks great. She continues to impress me as a super PCV. Her living condition has to be the worst among all of us. In her village, she has no site mate and no one speaks a word of English. Her Azeri was not so good either. Her apartment has no running water and no heat, but she overcomes all those hurdles and has been doing wonderful works for the local youngsters.
One of her most inspiring stories is about the toilet her host family recently built for her. Before she showed us the picture of her new toilet, everyone was assuming it must be the western sitting type of toilet with new shinning tiles, mirror and washing sink but when she cheerfully showed us the picture of her new toilet, I was sick to my stomach.
Catherine’s new toilet is nothing but a hole on the ground. Her toilet seat is just two pieces of wood placing on top of some bricks right above the hole for her to sit on. Her host family has a squat toilet but due to her knees problem, Catherine is unable to squat. Instead of complaining, she continued to use the squat toilet by standing up. When she had diarrhea (which for he
r is often), Catherine just carried extra water with her to clean up. Finally her host mother realized Catherine’s problem, so the family built her this temporarily outdoor “Shit hole”. When summer comes, this primitive toilet will have to be removed to somewhere else or be improved for sanitary reason. After Catherine finished her story, she looked at me and smiled. Still feeling so proud, “They built this for me, Chi! I love my new toilet”. I wanted to cry…
The story may sound so unpleasant to some people, but it is the story that will stay with me forever. This story should be an inspiration for all the existing and future PCVs, especially for those who quitted or those who are considering quitting. Compare to Catherine’s problems, their reasons to quit, for me are so insignificant. Catherine never lost sight of why she signs up for the Peace Corps. Her physical limitations, her current living conditions, her language problem, her health issues, and her family back home are problems that are common to all of us, but Catherine never used any one of those excuses to exit Peace Corps. Quitting for her is a betrayal of her commitment to Peace Corps, to President Obama, and to the people of United States of America. Peace Corps and the US should be proud to have her as an "ambassador" to Azerbaijan.
I am grateful to meet Catherine, to get to know her, to have her as my roommate since day 1 and certainly I am very proud to have her as my life time friend.
This past week, we had a 2-day Peace Corps training in Baku. It was nice seeing all my PCV friends again; Vivian, Carol, Catherine and many mores. We exchanged news, gossips, traveling plans and the “Shit” stories. Among all the elderly PCVs’ “Shit” stories, the most impressive one has to be the one told by Catherine Brookskenyon.
Back when we had our orientation in Philadelphia, Catherine was my roommate. This time, we arranged to be roommate again so we could spend the night catching up. Catherine has lost some weight but she looks great. She continues to impress me as a super PCV. Her living condition has to be the worst among all of us. In her village, she has no site mate and no one speaks a word of English. Her Azeri was not so good either. Her apartment has no running water and no heat, but she overcomes all those hurdles and has been doing wonderful works for the local youngsters.
One of her most inspiring stories is about the toilet her host family recently built for her. Before she showed us the picture of her new toilet, everyone was assuming it must be the western sitting type of toilet with new shinning tiles, mirror and washing sink but when she cheerfully showed us the picture of her new toilet, I was sick to my stomach.
Catherine’s new toilet is nothing but a hole on the ground. Her toilet seat is just two pieces of wood placing on top of some bricks right above the hole for her to sit on. Her host family has a squat toilet but due to her knees problem, Catherine is unable to squat. Instead of complaining, she continued to use the squat toilet by standing up. When she had diarrhea (which for he
r is often), Catherine just carried extra water with her to clean up. Finally her host mother realized Catherine’s problem, so the family built her this temporarily outdoor “Shit hole”. When summer comes, this primitive toilet will have to be removed to somewhere else or be improved for sanitary reason. After Catherine finished her story, she looked at me and smiled. Still feeling so proud, “They built this for me, Chi! I love my new toilet”. I wanted to cry…The story may sound so unpleasant to some people, but it is the story that will stay with me forever. This story should be an inspiration for all the existing and future PCVs, especially for those who quitted or those who are considering quitting. Compare to Catherine’s problems, their reasons to quit, for me are so insignificant. Catherine never lost sight of why she signs up for the Peace Corps. Her physical limitations, her current living conditions, her language problem, her health issues, and her family back home are problems that are common to all of us, but Catherine never used any one of those excuses to exit Peace Corps. Quitting for her is a betrayal of her commitment to Peace Corps, to President Obama, and to the people of United States of America. Peace Corps and the US should be proud to have her as an "ambassador" to Azerbaijan.
I am grateful to meet Catherine, to get to know her, to have her as my roommate since day 1 and certainly I am very proud to have her as my life time friend.
My Life in Azerbaijan - I found my flower in Azerbaijan
May 2, 2010
Spring is always the happy time for me in New York. I often go into the wood to see the dogwood bloom, to look at the wild iris sprouting out from the streambed and to watch the purple lilac dancing in the wind. Among all the flowers, I love lilac the most. Its intoxicated fragrant with tiny lavender flowers steals my heart some twenty years ago when I first discovered it near my college dormitory in upstate New York. Since then, every spring, I had to go into the wood and pick some lilac for my room. Moving to New York City, I continued to have lilac every spring to decorate my apartment.
This month, the local flowers in Azerbaijan begin to bloom, especially those along the Caspian Sea where I take my daily walk. I think about the lilac and realize how much I miss seeing it. Much to my surprise, yesterday I discovered a few lilac bushes hidden behind some tall fences. I was happy beyond words to see my old friend again. I wanted to pick some but there were people around. I always attract people’s attention by being a foreigner, if I pick the flowers openly in front of those people, I probably would creat a big rally and most certainly I would be on Azeri TV next day. So I waited until the right moment. This morning when I got up, it was cold, damp and raining. It was a good day to commit my crime.
Azeri people do not like cold and rain. Even just a drizzle, they will stay indoor. I took this golden opportunity to go back to the path and pick the flower. As soon as I got closer to the fence and conducted my act, I heard a man shouting at me.
“Hara gedirsÉ™n?” (where are you going?)
I was embarrassed to get cau
ght so I pointed at the flowers and smiled. The man waved his hand and signaled me to go away. Immediately, another elderly man came to the rescue. He talked to the angry man a few seconds. Afterward, the angry man looked at me and nodded. He allowed me to pick just one, so I thanked him and quickly picked two and ran. By the time I got home, I was soaking wet but I was happy, happy that I have discovered my favorite flower in Azerbaijan!
Spring is always the happy time for me in New York. I often go into the wood to see the dogwood bloom, to look at the wild iris sprouting out from the streambed and to watch the purple lilac dancing in the wind. Among all the flowers, I love lilac the most. Its intoxicated fragrant with tiny lavender flowers steals my heart some twenty years ago when I first discovered it near my college dormitory in upstate New York. Since then, every spring, I had to go into the wood and pick some lilac for my room. Moving to New York City, I continued to have lilac every spring to decorate my apartment.
This month, the local flowers in Azerbaijan begin to bloom, especially those along the Caspian Sea where I take my daily walk. I think about the lilac and realize how much I miss seeing it. Much to my surprise, yesterday I discovered a few lilac bushes hidden behind some tall fences. I was happy beyond words to see my old friend again. I wanted to pick some but there were people around. I always attract people’s attention by being a foreigner, if I pick the flowers openly in front of those people, I probably would creat a big rally and most certainly I would be on Azeri TV next day. So I waited until the right moment. This morning when I got up, it was cold, damp and raining. It was a good day to commit my crime.
Azeri people do not like cold and rain. Even just a drizzle, they will stay indoor. I took this golden opportunity to go back to the path and pick the flower. As soon as I got closer to the fence and conducted my act, I heard a man shouting at me.
“Hara gedirsÉ™n?” (where are you going?)
I was embarrassed to get cau
ght so I pointed at the flowers and smiled. The man waved his hand and signaled me to go away. Immediately, another elderly man came to the rescue. He talked to the angry man a few seconds. Afterward, the angry man looked at me and nodded. He allowed me to pick just one, so I thanked him and quickly picked two and ran. By the time I got home, I was soaking wet but I was happy, happy that I have discovered my favorite flower in Azerbaijan! Tuesday, April 27, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Settling Down?
April 24, 2010
My friend sent me an e-mail mentioning about settling down. Remember long long time ago, these two words “Settle down” was my much loved subject. I wanted so badly to get married and to have a family. Ten years passed by and now nearly twenty years is approaching, “settling down” does not seem to be such a desirable thing for me anymore. Am I losing the passion for love? Or does “time and tide wait for no man” finally hit me. Am I just too old for that sort of thing? Now serving the Peace Corps in Azerbaijan, I hardly thought about dating. However I do miss having a glass of wine, candle light dinner and a romantic night. I do not believe that I am losing my passion for love.
There are times for everything, times to be innocent, times to grow up, times to have fun, times to fall in love and times to settle down, times to be contented, times to grow old and times to disappear into the night. I had been innocent, I had grown up, I had fun, I had fallen in love a few times and I had wanted to settle down, but those times had become past. I am at the stage of my life where I need to be contented, need to feel good about what I do. My immediate focus is the remaining 20 months serving Peace Corps. Giving something back to the world is my priority.
After twenty months, will “settle down” fit into my time slot again. I do not know, but I do know that I have always been unsatisfied with life as most people live it. I want to live more intensely and richly when I still have time to do so. Continually to be tangled by what went before does not seem to be a wise thing to do. So long as I know who was, is and will be forever the love of my life, I am contented.
My friend sent me an e-mail mentioning about settling down. Remember long long time ago, these two words “Settle down” was my much loved subject. I wanted so badly to get married and to have a family. Ten years passed by and now nearly twenty years is approaching, “settling down” does not seem to be such a desirable thing for me anymore. Am I losing the passion for love? Or does “time and tide wait for no man” finally hit me. Am I just too old for that sort of thing? Now serving the Peace Corps in Azerbaijan, I hardly thought about dating. However I do miss having a glass of wine, candle light dinner and a romantic night. I do not believe that I am losing my passion for love.
There are times for everything, times to be innocent, times to grow up, times to have fun, times to fall in love and times to settle down, times to be contented, times to grow old and times to disappear into the night. I had been innocent, I had grown up, I had fun, I had fallen in love a few times and I had wanted to settle down, but those times had become past. I am at the stage of my life where I need to be contented, need to feel good about what I do. My immediate focus is the remaining 20 months serving Peace Corps. Giving something back to the world is my priority.
After twenty months, will “settle down” fit into my time slot again. I do not know, but I do know that I have always been unsatisfied with life as most people live it. I want to live more intensely and richly when I still have time to do so. Continually to be tangled by what went before does not seem to be a wise thing to do. So long as I know who was, is and will be forever the love of my life, I am contented.
My Life in Azerbaijan - Master the language
April 25, 2010
After six months, I am beginning to feel confidence to communicate with strangers with my Azeri language. Not only that I am able to ask and answer questions, I am also able to write a grammatically correct sentence. The credit partly goes to my dedicated teacher, Oruj. He has been a wonderful and patient young fellow.
This morning, I took a bigger loop for my daily walk. I got lost somewhere, so I stopped and asked a group of older man for direction. I was not even afraid. I went straight to the one with grey hair and politely, I asked him the question,
“Salam! Hansı yol XÉ™zÉ™r DÉ™nizinÉ™ gedir?” (Hi, Which way leads to the Caspian Sea?)
Total silence for a few second, (I guess they were shock to hear a Chinese girl speaked Azeri) then one of them repeat my question
“XÉ™zÉ™r DÉ™nizi? Bu yolla” (the Caspian Sea? This way)
I smiled realizing that they fully understand my question, so I became even more confident, then I continued
“burada, düz gedir?” (this way, go straight?)
“HÉ™ düz sonra saÄŸa (yes, straight and turn right)
Çox sağ ol (many thanks!)
Then I walked with my head held up high! I know I have overcome another hurdle and reached another milestone. Afterward, I went to the bazaar and shop. I used Azeri to bargain, to get acquaintance with the shop owners. They were all amazed that I could speak Azeri with them. Some even laughted when I complaint how expensive their goods were.
Most of the older PCVs are reluctant to learn the language. I understand how they feel. “To teach an old dog a new trick” has some truth in it. As a person gets older, it is difficult to learn new things. I saw how hard my elder friends Vivian and Kathreen struggling just trying to retain some vocabularies in their brains. “It does not stick to my brain Chi!” Vivian used to complain to me.
For me to master the language is not to give up. Six months ago, I had the same problem as Vivian, but I didnot give up. I forced myself to watch the Azeri news on TV, they often had subtitle. I looked up the words if I didnot recognize them. I wrote them down and ask Oruj to help me to pronouce them. I think my hard work finally payoff.
Afterall, why not taking the opportunity to learn a new language? Peace Corps even pays for my lesson. The best anti-aging medicine for your brain is to keep learning. By the end of my service, I am going to write a 2-page long essay in AZERI! (YOU GO GIRL CHI!)
After six months, I am beginning to feel confidence to communicate with strangers with my Azeri language. Not only that I am able to ask and answer questions, I am also able to write a grammatically correct sentence. The credit partly goes to my dedicated teacher, Oruj. He has been a wonderful and patient young fellow.
This morning, I took a bigger loop for my daily walk. I got lost somewhere, so I stopped and asked a group of older man for direction. I was not even afraid. I went straight to the one with grey hair and politely, I asked him the question,
“Salam! Hansı yol XÉ™zÉ™r DÉ™nizinÉ™ gedir?” (Hi, Which way leads to the Caspian Sea?)
Total silence for a few second, (I guess they were shock to hear a Chinese girl speaked Azeri) then one of them repeat my question
“XÉ™zÉ™r DÉ™nizi? Bu yolla” (the Caspian Sea? This way)
I smiled realizing that they fully understand my question, so I became even more confident, then I continued
“burada, düz gedir?” (this way, go straight?)
“HÉ™ düz sonra saÄŸa (yes, straight and turn right)
Çox sağ ol (many thanks!)
Then I walked with my head held up high! I know I have overcome another hurdle and reached another milestone. Afterward, I went to the bazaar and shop. I used Azeri to bargain, to get acquaintance with the shop owners. They were all amazed that I could speak Azeri with them. Some even laughted when I complaint how expensive their goods were.
Most of the older PCVs are reluctant to learn the language. I understand how they feel. “To teach an old dog a new trick” has some truth in it. As a person gets older, it is difficult to learn new things. I saw how hard my elder friends Vivian and Kathreen struggling just trying to retain some vocabularies in their brains. “It does not stick to my brain Chi!” Vivian used to complain to me.
For me to master the language is not to give up. Six months ago, I had the same problem as Vivian, but I didnot give up. I forced myself to watch the Azeri news on TV, they often had subtitle. I looked up the words if I didnot recognize them. I wrote them down and ask Oruj to help me to pronouce them. I think my hard work finally payoff.
Afterall, why not taking the opportunity to learn a new language? Peace Corps even pays for my lesson. The best anti-aging medicine for your brain is to keep learning. By the end of my service, I am going to write a 2-page long essay in AZERI! (YOU GO GIRL CHI!)
My Life in Azerbaijan - Best Spaghetti Sauce
April 26, 2010
The vegetables sold in the local market are very fresh and good quality. They are all organic! The tomato tastes like a tomato, cucumber tastes like a real cucumber. For a vegetable lover like me, it is truly a heaven to shop in the bazaar! I got very excited when I saw all the red, ripen and shinny tomato in the bazaar today. The price has gone down from 2 azn to 1.5 azn a kilo, so I bought a kilo to make spaghetti source.
I put lots of garlic, onion, hot pepper and sweet carrot inside a big pot; simmered it for two hours with low heat. After two hours, my apartment smelled like an Italian restaurant and the source turned out to be absolutely fantastic! The tomatoes had melted into small chunky pieces; they smiled back at me when I looked down to the pot. The source tasted superb, just wonderful! Oh, I am turning into a good cook. Cannot wait to cook “J” a good meal.
The vegetables sold in the local market are very fresh and good quality. They are all organic! The tomato tastes like a tomato, cucumber tastes like a real cucumber. For a vegetable lover like me, it is truly a heaven to shop in the bazaar! I got very excited when I saw all the red, ripen and shinny tomato in the bazaar today. The price has gone down from 2 azn to 1.5 azn a kilo, so I bought a kilo to make spaghetti source.
I put lots of garlic, onion, hot pepper and sweet carrot inside a big pot; simmered it for two hours with low heat. After two hours, my apartment smelled like an Italian restaurant and the source turned out to be absolutely fantastic! The tomatoes had melted into small chunky pieces; they smiled back at me when I looked down to the pot. The source tasted superb, just wonderful! Oh, I am turning into a good cook. Cannot wait to cook “J” a good meal.
Monday, April 19, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Missing my Hiking Days in NY
April 18, 2010
Today’s weather reminds me of spring time in New York. Sunny, the temperature is at the upper 50F, just a beautiful day for a long hike. The annual CMCNY 26-mile hike event should be over by now and for the first time in nine years, I could not attend this marathon hike. I do miss it!
I have started this strenuous exercise since 1991. For the past nine years, my loyal hiking partner Mr. Chen was always by my side to reach the finishing line. Last year, we got lost in the trail and ended up hiking 30 miles. We finished the hike just a little more than 12 hours. I was happy with the result for I had made another record for myself. A year ago, I was in an excellent shape. Just one month after the hike, I went to Utah with other friends and did a 10-days backpacking. With only 103 lbs, I could carry half of my body weight and climbed up and down with the 45-50 lbs backpack. Life was full of excitements, challenges, and rewards. Besides, I quitted my very stressful job in Wall Street. For the six months, I was living a healthy life and enjoying what I was doing. Afterward, I left for Peace Corps.
Today, my routine exercise is an hour’s walk inside a park by the Caspian Sea and half hour yoga afterward. There is no mountain here in the city, only a long flat shoreline. Occasionally, I can find some stairs climbing up to a small hill. The Azeri people avoid those stairs but for me they are treasure. I think I have climbed every stair inside the park, and my favorite one is the 125 steps stair leading to a statue. If no one is watching, I go back down and repeat the climb. Once, an Azeri man caught me doing it, he looked at me with a wide open month. He thought I was nut!
I do not know why I like exercise and I surely do not know why I enjoy mountain climbing so much. Twenty months from now, I will be back doing those things again. It may take me a few months to tune up my muscles. I may suffer with lots of pains in order to get back to the “excellent” shape, but I am looking forward to it. I just hope my hiking and backpacking buddies will still be there when I return.
This evening, I think I am going to take a 2-hours walk.
Today’s weather reminds me of spring time in New York. Sunny, the temperature is at the upper 50F, just a beautiful day for a long hike. The annual CMCNY 26-mile hike event should be over by now and for the first time in nine years, I could not attend this marathon hike. I do miss it!
I have started this strenuous exercise since 1991. For the past nine years, my loyal hiking partner Mr. Chen was always by my side to reach the finishing line. Last year, we got lost in the trail and ended up hiking 30 miles. We finished the hike just a little more than 12 hours. I was happy with the result for I had made another record for myself. A year ago, I was in an excellent shape. Just one month after the hike, I went to Utah with other friends and did a 10-days backpacking. With only 103 lbs, I could carry half of my body weight and climbed up and down with the 45-50 lbs backpack. Life was full of excitements, challenges, and rewards. Besides, I quitted my very stressful job in Wall Street. For the six months, I was living a healthy life and enjoying what I was doing. Afterward, I left for Peace Corps.
Today, my routine exercise is an hour’s walk inside a park by the Caspian Sea and half hour yoga afterward. There is no mountain here in the city, only a long flat shoreline. Occasionally, I can find some stairs climbing up to a small hill. The Azeri people avoid those stairs but for me they are treasure. I think I have climbed every stair inside the park, and my favorite one is the 125 steps stair leading to a statue. If no one is watching, I go back down and repeat the climb. Once, an Azeri man caught me doing it, he looked at me with a wide open month. He thought I was nut!
I do not know why I like exercise and I surely do not know why I enjoy mountain climbing so much. Twenty months from now, I will be back doing those things again. It may take me a few months to tune up my muscles. I may suffer with lots of pains in order to get back to the “excellent” shape, but I am looking forward to it. I just hope my hiking and backpacking buddies will still be there when I return.
This evening, I think I am going to take a 2-hours walk.
Monday, April 12, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Short of Money
April 12, 2010
I only have 17 azn living allowance left for the rest of April. I know it will not last til the end of the month. I may have to dig into my own pocket again in order to put foods on the table. It sounds so ridiculous! Back in New York, I used to shop and buy whatever I wanted, never once was I worried about putting foods on the table. I have to laugh!
The cost of living in where I live is very high. The monthly living allowances that Peace Corps pays me is not even sufficient to cover my rent. Before I came, I was prepared to live in a small village where there was no electricity and running water. I was prepared to cook in an open fire, sleep under the stars and bathe in a river. But now, I am trapped in a concrete cage, troubled by the modern pluming, sometimes live in a total darkness and am disgusted by my own “shit” when there is no running water in the toilet.
Would it be nice if I camp somewhere by the river, dig a hole if I need to go, BBQ the fish I catch from the river, eat the berries I pick from the wood then go to work at the bank. This way, I will not spend a penny that Peace Corps gives me and I can even donate those money to the orphanage….Uh life is good!
I only have 17 azn living allowance left for the rest of April. I know it will not last til the end of the month. I may have to dig into my own pocket again in order to put foods on the table. It sounds so ridiculous! Back in New York, I used to shop and buy whatever I wanted, never once was I worried about putting foods on the table. I have to laugh!
The cost of living in where I live is very high. The monthly living allowances that Peace Corps pays me is not even sufficient to cover my rent. Before I came, I was prepared to live in a small village where there was no electricity and running water. I was prepared to cook in an open fire, sleep under the stars and bathe in a river. But now, I am trapped in a concrete cage, troubled by the modern pluming, sometimes live in a total darkness and am disgusted by my own “shit” when there is no running water in the toilet.
Would it be nice if I camp somewhere by the river, dig a hole if I need to go, BBQ the fish I catch from the river, eat the berries I pick from the wood then go to work at the bank. This way, I will not spend a penny that Peace Corps gives me and I can even donate those money to the orphanage….Uh life is good!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Am I really making a difference here?
April 10, 2010
The most common complains from PCVs is lack of work. Not many PCV has enough work to fill the week. Some organizations do not even care whether volunteers show up to work or not. Compare to other PCVs; I am busy most of the time. The bank keeps me occupied during the week. However, busy does not necessary mean that I am happy for what I do. I often asked myself THE question: Is my work really making a difference here in Azerbaijan?
More than once I was frustrated by how inefficiency the bank (my organization) functions here. It took my bank three days to open an account for me. I can deposit money to and withdraw money from the same account, but I can not transfer oversea money to this account. In order for my sister wiring US$ to me, I had to pay the bank 10 azn to open another account, and of course, it took me another three days to see it happen. When the money finally arrived, I had to wait for anther three days to claim the money, and needless to say, it was not free. I had to pay another 20 azn for the bank fee. When I requested a copy of the paper works that I signed for both accounts, they were not available, maybe I will get it in two weeks or maybe not, who knows. My frustration usually is answered by a common but honest reply from one of my co-workers, “You are in Azerbaijan Chi, and this is how we work here”
My impression of most Azeri people is: they do not want the change. They are comfortable with things that currently are and resent ideas that are unfamiliar to them. Instead of solving problems, they choose to hide them. Instead of facing the situations, they choose to avoid them. The corruption and bribery are notorious in the country, but people choose to accept it. When I first reported the leaking of my kitchen sink to my landlord, he saw it as a minor problem, no need to fix it. When the pipe finally exploded, he tried to convince me that it would be ok to just put a bucket under the pipe. When I reported to my organization about errors that I found on their audited financial, the HQ acknowledged it but never did anything to fix it. I could write pages and pages of findings of the bank’s financial reporting deficiencies and listed all the recommendations, but I would never heard anything back from the HQ or saw any steps being taken to correct the situations.
It takes pride to admit error, it takes courage to make change, it takes time to see thing happen but it also takes more sufferings if the situation does not improve. I am the 7th group of PCV arriving in the country and there will more groups coming after me. “Help the people to help themselves” is one of our PCV missions. What if they do not want to help themselves?
The most common complains from PCVs is lack of work. Not many PCV has enough work to fill the week. Some organizations do not even care whether volunteers show up to work or not. Compare to other PCVs; I am busy most of the time. The bank keeps me occupied during the week. However, busy does not necessary mean that I am happy for what I do. I often asked myself THE question: Is my work really making a difference here in Azerbaijan?
More than once I was frustrated by how inefficiency the bank (my organization) functions here. It took my bank three days to open an account for me. I can deposit money to and withdraw money from the same account, but I can not transfer oversea money to this account. In order for my sister wiring US$ to me, I had to pay the bank 10 azn to open another account, and of course, it took me another three days to see it happen. When the money finally arrived, I had to wait for anther three days to claim the money, and needless to say, it was not free. I had to pay another 20 azn for the bank fee. When I requested a copy of the paper works that I signed for both accounts, they were not available, maybe I will get it in two weeks or maybe not, who knows. My frustration usually is answered by a common but honest reply from one of my co-workers, “You are in Azerbaijan Chi, and this is how we work here”
My impression of most Azeri people is: they do not want the change. They are comfortable with things that currently are and resent ideas that are unfamiliar to them. Instead of solving problems, they choose to hide them. Instead of facing the situations, they choose to avoid them. The corruption and bribery are notorious in the country, but people choose to accept it. When I first reported the leaking of my kitchen sink to my landlord, he saw it as a minor problem, no need to fix it. When the pipe finally exploded, he tried to convince me that it would be ok to just put a bucket under the pipe. When I reported to my organization about errors that I found on their audited financial, the HQ acknowledged it but never did anything to fix it. I could write pages and pages of findings of the bank’s financial reporting deficiencies and listed all the recommendations, but I would never heard anything back from the HQ or saw any steps being taken to correct the situations.
It takes pride to admit error, it takes courage to make change, it takes time to see thing happen but it also takes more sufferings if the situation does not improve. I am the 7th group of PCV arriving in the country and there will more groups coming after me. “Help the people to help themselves” is one of our PCV missions. What if they do not want to help themselves?
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Another One Quits
April 7, 2010
I only had a few days privacy at my apartment. Another PCV showed up and asked me to let her stay for a few days. My manager warned me before, he said that once you have your own place, other PCVs will show up and expect you to host them whenever they are in town. You do not have to say “yes” every time because it will become very stressful. I should have said no, but I did not have the heart to tell her.
She was very upset when I saw her at the Peace Corps Office. She told me that she just quitted the Peace Corps and desperately needed a place to stay to sort things out before leaving for the US. Well, if I were in her place, I probably would want someone to help me, to talk to me, to comfort me, “Sure, come and make yourself at home” and she did.
I do not know the real reason that she quits. All I know is that her organization does not want her back and she had a big fight with her host mother. She is a rich lady, just two years older than I am. She does not have to work for the rest of her life because she has money. Maybe that is the problem. There are not many rich people can be as humble as Mr. Warren Buffett and not many single middle age women can be a real “sweetheart”. I know I can be a “bitch” sometimes but I have not behaved so badly that my bank does not want me around. A few mishaps frustrated me but they have not yet drove me to the edge. As a guest of this country, I know I should show my respect, control my temper and sometimes, I do have to swallow my pride. Bitching and mourning will get me no where.
Since October, my group of seventeen has decreased down to thirteen. There is a rumor going on that there will be another one quitting. For those out there who are thinking to join the Peace Corps, here is my word of advice:
Make sure you join Peace Corps for the right reason or it will never work!
You should NOT join the Peace Corps under any of the following circumstances:
1. Cannot find a job at home
2. Have big problem at home and try to escape (you will have a bigger problem here)
3. Have no money and expect Peace Corps to support you (you may be poorer here!)
4. Seek adventure (there is only discomfort here, no adventure!)
5. Have money but does not know what to do with it (travel, travel, and travel)
6. Start a new life (ok, but prepare to start a tough life)
7. Just want to see how life is in other part of the world (you may end up hating it!)
So what is the right reason? For me, the foremost reason: to give something back, and secondary reason: to challenge myself.
“If you are not living on the edge, you take up too much space. It has nothing to do with thrill seeking. It is about making the most every moment, about stretching your own boundaries, about being willing to learn constantly and putting yourself in situations where learning is possible – sometimes even critical to your survival . Being out on the edge, with everything at risk, is where you learn and grow- the most”
By Jim Whittaker,
1st American to summit Mt. Everest
It pretty much sums up why I am here!
I only had a few days privacy at my apartment. Another PCV showed up and asked me to let her stay for a few days. My manager warned me before, he said that once you have your own place, other PCVs will show up and expect you to host them whenever they are in town. You do not have to say “yes” every time because it will become very stressful. I should have said no, but I did not have the heart to tell her.
She was very upset when I saw her at the Peace Corps Office. She told me that she just quitted the Peace Corps and desperately needed a place to stay to sort things out before leaving for the US. Well, if I were in her place, I probably would want someone to help me, to talk to me, to comfort me, “Sure, come and make yourself at home” and she did.
I do not know the real reason that she quits. All I know is that her organization does not want her back and she had a big fight with her host mother. She is a rich lady, just two years older than I am. She does not have to work for the rest of her life because she has money. Maybe that is the problem. There are not many rich people can be as humble as Mr. Warren Buffett and not many single middle age women can be a real “sweetheart”. I know I can be a “bitch” sometimes but I have not behaved so badly that my bank does not want me around. A few mishaps frustrated me but they have not yet drove me to the edge. As a guest of this country, I know I should show my respect, control my temper and sometimes, I do have to swallow my pride. Bitching and mourning will get me no where.
Since October, my group of seventeen has decreased down to thirteen. There is a rumor going on that there will be another one quitting. For those out there who are thinking to join the Peace Corps, here is my word of advice:
Make sure you join Peace Corps for the right reason or it will never work!
You should NOT join the Peace Corps under any of the following circumstances:
1. Cannot find a job at home
2. Have big problem at home and try to escape (you will have a bigger problem here)
3. Have no money and expect Peace Corps to support you (you may be poorer here!)
4. Seek adventure (there is only discomfort here, no adventure!)
5. Have money but does not know what to do with it (travel, travel, and travel)
6. Start a new life (ok, but prepare to start a tough life)
7. Just want to see how life is in other part of the world (you may end up hating it!)
So what is the right reason? For me, the foremost reason: to give something back, and secondary reason: to challenge myself.
“If you are not living on the edge, you take up too much space. It has nothing to do with thrill seeking. It is about making the most every moment, about stretching your own boundaries, about being willing to learn constantly and putting yourself in situations where learning is possible – sometimes even critical to your survival . Being out on the edge, with everything at risk, is where you learn and grow- the most”
By Jim Whittaker,
1st American to summit Mt. Everest
It pretty much sums up why I am here!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Helping US Embassy
April 5, 2010
This weekend, Julie and I volunteered to help Brent from the US Embassy for the “American Days” event in Baku. It is a month long program and the main goal is to educate the Azeri people about the America. My topic is “US National Parks – Where Nature intends to be”. Julie and I downloaded a lot of beautiful pictures from the internet. I also printed out some of my hiking, backpacking and mountain climbing pictures for the display. Our audiences were mainly university students, and the event turned out to be very positive. More than 200 people showed up, which is
more than Brent had expected.
We had a lot of visitors approaching to our table and asking questions about our displays. They were amazed to see how beautiful America is. Hiking, camping and mountain climbing are not very popular in this country. In general, people do not exercise here. Men and women over 30 years old are overweight and their life expectancy is 65. Heart attacked is the main killer in this country. I am not surprise considering how much fat and sweet people consume here and how little exercise they do.
I have been realistic about my work here as a PCV. If today’s event somehow has created the awareness of living healthy among the younger generation, I have done my job here as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
This weekend, Julie and I volunteered to help Brent from the US Embassy for the “American Days” event in Baku. It is a month long program and the main goal is to educate the Azeri people about the America. My topic is “US National Parks – Where Nature intends to be”. Julie and I downloaded a lot of beautiful pictures from the internet. I also printed out some of my hiking, backpacking and mountain climbing pictures for the display. Our audiences were mainly university students, and the event turned out to be very positive. More than 200 people showed up, which is
more than Brent had expected.We had a lot of visitors approaching to our table and asking questions about our displays. They were amazed to see how beautiful America is. Hiking, camping and mountain climbing are not very popular in this country. In general, people do not exercise here. Men and women over 30 years old are overweight and their life expectancy is 65. Heart attacked is the main killer in this country. I am not surprise considering how much fat and sweet people consume here and how little exercise they do.
I have been realistic about my work here as a PCV. If today’s event somehow has created the awareness of living healthy among the younger generation, I have done my job here as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Attacked by Teenage Boys
March 31, 2010
The staring never stopped, either in Sumqayit, the town I live or in Ganja, the city I visited. Everyone just kept watching me. I am beginning to accept that because I have three heads, six eyes, two mouths and a big pair of ugly ear, therefore, they have the reason to stare at me. I can tolerate the stare but when it accelerates to physical contact, I am frightened to death!
This morning on my way to the bus station, I received more than just stare from three teenage boys. They actually attacked me, sexually harassed me and they bought me into tears. The worse part is when I asked for help from some elder men; they just ignored me and thought it was “ok”
for what the teenage boys did. I am beginning to fear of my safety here.
It was about 9:30 this morning. I was on my way to the bus station to Baku. From my new apartment to the bus station is about 10 minutes’ walk. The street usually is quite busy, so I did not think of anyone would have the opportunity to harm me. I did not hear anything before it happened, I just felt my bottom was being hit hard, then a hand grasped it and then a big burst of laugh. Three teenage boys between 15-17 years old appeared in front of me. After the attack, they did not go away; they walked next to me and waited for my reaction. I was shocked first but when I realized what just happened, I was angry. I screamed so loud and hoped that someone would come and stop them. As soon as I screamed, these three dreadful human beings ran and disappeared to a distance. I could still see them. They did not run too far, still watching me. So I ran towards three elder men and showed them what the boys did to me. They looked at the boys and then signed me to go away.
I lost it, so I yelled at them and told them in Azeri “I am an American”, then in English “I am calling the police”. I picked up my cell phone and pretended that I was actually calling the police, so the teenage boys would not come back.
I began to shake; I was terrified and mad at the same time. I felt alone and helpless. Finally, sitting on the bus to Baku, I began to cry. I sent a text message to Peace Corps security officer. He called me back immediately and asked me to go to the Peace Corps office right away. I really did not know where else to go. I felt so dirty, my butt was very dirty, it needed to be cleaned, cleaned again and again….It sounds so crazy. I think only a woman can understand exactly how I felt that moment.
On my way back home, I panicked every time when I saw a group of teenage boys. I locked all my windows and doors as soon as I got home. I know the fear will not go away for a while.
20 more months to go, can I make it??
The staring never stopped, either in Sumqayit, the town I live or in Ganja, the city I visited. Everyone just kept watching me. I am beginning to accept that because I have three heads, six eyes, two mouths and a big pair of ugly ear, therefore, they have the reason to stare at me. I can tolerate the stare but when it accelerates to physical contact, I am frightened to death!
This morning on my way to the bus station, I received more than just stare from three teenage boys. They actually attacked me, sexually harassed me and they bought me into tears. The worse part is when I asked for help from some elder men; they just ignored me and thought it was “ok”
for what the teenage boys did. I am beginning to fear of my safety here.
It was about 9:30 this morning. I was on my way to the bus station to Baku. From my new apartment to the bus station is about 10 minutes’ walk. The street usually is quite busy, so I did not think of anyone would have the opportunity to harm me. I did not hear anything before it happened, I just felt my bottom was being hit hard, then a hand grasped it and then a big burst of laugh. Three teenage boys between 15-17 years old appeared in front of me. After the attack, they did not go away; they walked next to me and waited for my reaction. I was shocked first but when I realized what just happened, I was angry. I screamed so loud and hoped that someone would come and stop them. As soon as I screamed, these three dreadful human beings ran and disappeared to a distance. I could still see them. They did not run too far, still watching me. So I ran towards three elder men and showed them what the boys did to me. They looked at the boys and then signed me to go away.
I lost it, so I yelled at them and told them in Azeri “I am an American”, then in English “I am calling the police”. I picked up my cell phone and pretended that I was actually calling the police, so the teenage boys would not come back.
I began to shake; I was terrified and mad at the same time. I felt alone and helpless. Finally, sitting on the bus to Baku, I began to cry. I sent a text message to Peace Corps security officer. He called me back immediately and asked me to go to the Peace Corps office right away. I really did not know where else to go. I felt so dirty, my butt was very dirty, it needed to be cleaned, cleaned again and again….It sounds so crazy. I think only a woman can understand exactly how I felt that moment.
On my way back home, I panicked every time when I saw a group of teenage boys. I locked all my windows and doors as soon as I got home. I know the fear will not go away for a while.
20 more months to go, can I make it??
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - Visit another City
March 26, 2010
Finally I have a chance to get away from Sumqayit and visit another city, Ganja where Vivian and Carol live. Ganja is the 2nd biggest city in Azerbaijan, and it was the Capital of Azerbaijan before Baku. It is a pretty little town with clean avenues, impressive government buildings, nice Turkey restaurants; old Germany built apartment buildings and a huge park. The city actually has street light!
I am happy to see Vivian and Carol again. Vivian and I were inseparable during the training in Sumqayit. I have not seen her for four months after the training. She lost some weight and looks as pretty as before. Carol lost weight too and she is still one of the most interesting women I met in Peace Corps. We spent the entire afternoon chatting in a tea house (where woman is forbidden to enter, but we did not care) catching up with latest Peace Corps news, exchanging host family complains and sharing information about our apartment hunting. Similar to my feeling, both Vivian and Carol are eager to move out of their host family by April. Vivian’s host family situation is getting worse every day and she is even afraid to tell them that she is leaving. Seeing the fear in her face, I wonder, how many of us really enjoy the host family experience.
They both found their little place to live, nothing fancy and not cheap either. They have to share the apartment with another Peace Corps volunteer in order to afford the rent. Vivian shows me her new home. It is really not a “nice” place to live but the place has a yard where Vivian can plant her vegetable garden. She is excited about that.
After knowing other people’s problems, I feel better now. Tomorrow I will return to Sumqayit and say good bye to my host family. I am frightened, petrified, SCARD !!!
Finally I have a chance to get away from Sumqayit and visit another city, Ganja where Vivian and Carol live. Ganja is the 2nd biggest city in Azerbaijan, and it was the Capital of Azerbaijan before Baku. It is a pretty little town with clean avenues, impressive government buildings, nice Turkey restaurants; old Germany built apartment buildings and a huge park. The city actually has street light!
I am happy to see Vivian and Carol again. Vivian and I were inseparable during the training in Sumqayit. I have not seen her for four months after the training. She lost some weight and looks as pretty as before. Carol lost weight too and she is still one of the most interesting women I met in Peace Corps. We spent the entire afternoon chatting in a tea house (where woman is forbidden to enter, but we did not care) catching up with latest Peace Corps news, exchanging host family complains and sharing information about our apartment hunting. Similar to my feeling, both Vivian and Carol are eager to move out of their host family by April. Vivian’s host family situation is getting worse every day and she is even afraid to tell them that she is leaving. Seeing the fear in her face, I wonder, how many of us really enjoy the host family experience.
They both found their little place to live, nothing fancy and not cheap either. They have to share the apartment with another Peace Corps volunteer in order to afford the rent. Vivian shows me her new home. It is really not a “nice” place to live but the place has a yard where Vivian can plant her vegetable garden. She is excited about that.
After knowing other people’s problems, I feel better now. Tomorrow I will return to Sumqayit and say good bye to my host family. I am frightened, petrified, SCARD !!!
Monday, March 29, 2010
My Life in Azerbaijan - I am Done!
March 22, 2010
In front of me is the usual pile of dirty dishes, forts, spoon, knifes, cups, pot and pens. This morning, the family has some guests over, so the pile of dishes is bigger than normal. The elder sister dumps more into the pile, then walks away. The middle sister lying on the couch resting after the big meal and the youngest one; never touches any dirty dishes. Ana passes me, does not say a word; she is expecting me, who for the past six month has been washing the family dishes every day, to perform the same duty again. These four women know very well that Chi will do the dishes. She will dry them, put them away as well.
I should be mad, but I am not. After all, it is my fault, I started to do it since day one I moved in this family. I did get mad once and stopped talking to the family for two days. They did not understand why I was upset, so they disapproved my behavior by talking about me, in front of me until I could not stand it anymore. So I gave up and accepted the fact that, I am the dish washing machine. I will do all the dishes.
It is really no big deal to do the dishes. I am a very organized person. I can not stand seeing all the dirty dishes piling up and sitting in the sink for hours. The family does not seem to mind but I do. Besides, I don’t feel right not to help after eating a meal which is cooked by my host mother. For that reason, I feel guilty not to wash any dishes. I know I have been taken advantage by this thoughtfulness and I have turned into a dish washer for these past six months.
But I am leaving this family in a week, will I miss them? I think I will miss serving Nene (grandmother) tea everyday at 5:00pm. Nene loves to order me to give her tea and it has to be freshly brewed tea. Not because she is a mean old lady but because she loves my attention. No one in the family seems to give her any. I have grown loving her each day, watching her talking endlessly about how bad everything is. I smile and nod, pretend that I understand. Nene just wants to talk to someone; that is all.
I will miss my room. It is inside this little room that I could be myself, wrote my journal, ate my own foods, watched DVDs, said my prayer, read “J” 's e-mails and had my dreams.
If I was much younger, I probably would have cried so many nights here… but I am older, I swallowed them. Last year’s Peace Corps Volunteer who stayed with this family has the same feeling as I have. She and I communicated and we both agree; no another American should ever be placed in this home again.
I still could not understand why ana always served me the smallest piece of chicken, why I always had to eat family left over foods and why I sometimes had to go to bed hungry….was I really such a bad guest?
In front of me is the usual pile of dirty dishes, forts, spoon, knifes, cups, pot and pens. This morning, the family has some guests over, so the pile of dishes is bigger than normal. The elder sister dumps more into the pile, then walks away. The middle sister lying on the couch resting after the big meal and the youngest one; never touches any dirty dishes. Ana passes me, does not say a word; she is expecting me, who for the past six month has been washing the family dishes every day, to perform the same duty again. These four women know very well that Chi will do the dishes. She will dry them, put them away as well.
I should be mad, but I am not. After all, it is my fault, I started to do it since day one I moved in this family. I did get mad once and stopped talking to the family for two days. They did not understand why I was upset, so they disapproved my behavior by talking about me, in front of me until I could not stand it anymore. So I gave up and accepted the fact that, I am the dish washing machine. I will do all the dishes.
It is really no big deal to do the dishes. I am a very organized person. I can not stand seeing all the dirty dishes piling up and sitting in the sink for hours. The family does not seem to mind but I do. Besides, I don’t feel right not to help after eating a meal which is cooked by my host mother. For that reason, I feel guilty not to wash any dishes. I know I have been taken advantage by this thoughtfulness and I have turned into a dish washer for these past six months.
But I am leaving this family in a week, will I miss them? I think I will miss serving Nene (grandmother) tea everyday at 5:00pm. Nene loves to order me to give her tea and it has to be freshly brewed tea. Not because she is a mean old lady but because she loves my attention. No one in the family seems to give her any. I have grown loving her each day, watching her talking endlessly about how bad everything is. I smile and nod, pretend that I understand. Nene just wants to talk to someone; that is all.
I will miss my room. It is inside this little room that I could be myself, wrote my journal, ate my own foods, watched DVDs, said my prayer, read “J” 's e-mails and had my dreams.
If I was much younger, I probably would have cried so many nights here… but I am older, I swallowed them. Last year’s Peace Corps Volunteer who stayed with this family has the same feeling as I have. She and I communicated and we both agree; no another American should ever be placed in this home again.
I still could not understand why ana always served me the smallest piece of chicken, why I always had to eat family left over foods and why I sometimes had to go to bed hungry….was I really such a bad guest?
My Life in Azerbaijan - Food Poisoning
March 20, 2010
Thursday morning after breakfast, I went to work. As soon as I got to the bank, I felt chill all over my body. Usually it is a sign of a cold or flu. I was frustrated because I have been very careful, washed my hands often, did extra exercise to get my body stronger and ate a big apple everyday (it is the Fuji apple, imported, expensive!)
The symptom got worse by noon, so I decided to go home early. By 7:00pm, ana got home and asked me to help making dinner. Normally I would not feel so tired working in the kitchen for two hours, but by 9:00pm, I felt like I was hit by a train, nearly exhausted! By then, I was certain that I had a flu. My stomach also began to hurt. I went to bed early. After an hour in bed, my stomach began to make a lot of noise. I had to go to the bathroom so badly, not once, not twice but three times and I had the urge to throw up as well.
I took two Tylenols and accepted the fact that I had flu. I was determined that for the next 72 hours, I would do nothing but sleep through this. By midnight, I woke up with a chill, I felt so cold. The precious heater was right next to me, but I still felt so unbelievable cold. I was shivering in spite of many layers of blankets I put on top of myself. Half hour later, I felt so hot. I was burning hot with fever. An hour later, the chill came back, then the heat, back and forth, back and forth, whole night long, in between, I still kept going to the bathroom. By dawn, I developed a bad cramp in my stomach and I was lying in bed completely dehydrated. I wanted someone to help me, to give me some water…..
I waited until 7:30am and called my host sister to give me some tea. I told her I was very ill. Meanwhile, I sent a text message to Peace Corps doctor. After telling him all my symptoms, he told me I had food poisoning and a bad virus in my stomach. He talked to my host sister a few minutes and asked her to prepare everything for me; tea with extra sugar, glass of water with lots of cinnamon, piece of bread or rice soup with nothing was the only food I allowed to have. As for the cramp, tied a piece of cloth around my stomach tightly and put hot water bottle on top of my belly. By now, ana and all my three sisters were in my room. They talked endless about me, gave ideas what to do. I wanted them to leave me alone so I could sleep quietly, I had no energy to protest, just closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep.
Remember a friend told me, the best thing to cure a virus in your stomach is to starve yourself. Eat nothing so the virus will have nothing to eat either. After the virus is starved to death, then you are cured. I tried this method when I was in Nepal, and it worked. The next 24 hours, I ate nothing, just drank tea. By Sunday, I fully recovered except lost a few pounds… I am too skinny right now, just too skinny.
Thursday morning after breakfast, I went to work. As soon as I got to the bank, I felt chill all over my body. Usually it is a sign of a cold or flu. I was frustrated because I have been very careful, washed my hands often, did extra exercise to get my body stronger and ate a big apple everyday (it is the Fuji apple, imported, expensive!)
The symptom got worse by noon, so I decided to go home early. By 7:00pm, ana got home and asked me to help making dinner. Normally I would not feel so tired working in the kitchen for two hours, but by 9:00pm, I felt like I was hit by a train, nearly exhausted! By then, I was certain that I had a flu. My stomach also began to hurt. I went to bed early. After an hour in bed, my stomach began to make a lot of noise. I had to go to the bathroom so badly, not once, not twice but three times and I had the urge to throw up as well.
I took two Tylenols and accepted the fact that I had flu. I was determined that for the next 72 hours, I would do nothing but sleep through this. By midnight, I woke up with a chill, I felt so cold. The precious heater was right next to me, but I still felt so unbelievable cold. I was shivering in spite of many layers of blankets I put on top of myself. Half hour later, I felt so hot. I was burning hot with fever. An hour later, the chill came back, then the heat, back and forth, back and forth, whole night long, in between, I still kept going to the bathroom. By dawn, I developed a bad cramp in my stomach and I was lying in bed completely dehydrated. I wanted someone to help me, to give me some water…..
I waited until 7:30am and called my host sister to give me some tea. I told her I was very ill. Meanwhile, I sent a text message to Peace Corps doctor. After telling him all my symptoms, he told me I had food poisoning and a bad virus in my stomach. He talked to my host sister a few minutes and asked her to prepare everything for me; tea with extra sugar, glass of water with lots of cinnamon, piece of bread or rice soup with nothing was the only food I allowed to have. As for the cramp, tied a piece of cloth around my stomach tightly and put hot water bottle on top of my belly. By now, ana and all my three sisters were in my room. They talked endless about me, gave ideas what to do. I wanted them to leave me alone so I could sleep quietly, I had no energy to protest, just closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep.
Remember a friend told me, the best thing to cure a virus in your stomach is to starve yourself. Eat nothing so the virus will have nothing to eat either. After the virus is starved to death, then you are cured. I tried this method when I was in Nepal, and it worked. The next 24 hours, I ate nothing, just drank tea. By Sunday, I fully recovered except lost a few pounds… I am too skinny right now, just too skinny.
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