Facing our Food

Last weekend we hosted a gathering of Peace Corps guys at our house. They were meeting to work on the plans for ABLE (Azerbaijani Boys Leadership Experience) Camp next summer. For one of our meals we decided to buy two chickens and prepare them ourselves. Each person had their own reasons for wanting to be involved. For my part, I would like to keep chickens one day and saw this as a prerequisite test.

A word of caution: The following video contains footage of the killing, plucking, and gutting of chickens. Chickens were harmed in the making of this film. If it makes you feel better, they were also eaten with a delicious gravy

One Year Later: How far I've Come

Then

I can genuinely say I am really happy to be here.

The Peace Corps has this phrase they use in their advertising "The Hardest Job you'll ever Love" which until recently I viewed as a total crock. But cheesy as it is, I'm starting to get there.
I just got back from a hotel on the side of the highway where a whole slew of brand spankin' new Americans were being bombarded with information their first few days in country. First of all I want to say it was an honor to be there. And to those of you AZ7's who may read this blog, you guys are great and I can't wait until we are fellow PCV's.

The truth is, in terms of what they are about to go through, I would never want to do that again. The first nine months here were painfully hard. But I can also say that am so glad I stuck through it.

And here I come to another Peace Corps cliche. That while I have no idea if I'm making a difference in my community, this experience is certainly changing me.
I'm finally over hating things I can't change. I've stopped comparing myself to others or always worrying about the day that someone else is going to decide I'm not good enough. I'm remembering where my true identity lies. In the words of a fellow AZ6 "I've grown the backbone I never knew I didn't have."

I've let go idealizing the United States. Let go of a lifestyle that judges worth by how many unscheduled seconds were crowded out with activity.

And because I've let go of so much, I can now see all of those things I've been blind to. The really polite and thoughtful Azeri men. The truly hospitable friends and neighbors. The smart and talented people who are pushing the envelope. That there is nothing wrong with sitting under a fruit tree drinking tea and just talking on a summer day. Oh yeah, and the new factory the government just renovated and those lovely new highway signs.

A couple days ago I got the last seat on a markrutka-the very last row in between two dudes and a grandmother. There was a woman in front of me who started making fun of the fact that I was foreign. I quickly responded to her that I speak Azeri. She then peppered me with a machine gun fire of questions that would have left me sobbing and confused nine months ago but that I deftly answered as if I was swatting away flies. The woman then for an inexplicable reason decided to revert to the age of seven and take advantage of what I had told her, taunting me in Russian because I said I didn't speak it. And if this had been a year ago, I would have been defeated. And this story would have ended there, with me crying and hating what I took to be "azeri culture." But this isn't a year ago. This is now. And I didn't start crying. And instead of fearfully ignoring the men beside me who were trying to get my attention, I turned my head to them. They were silently making "she's crazy!" hand motions and pointing to the woman while simultaneously offering me a bite of sandwich. And a year ago I would have thought that when the man beside me started talking and joking with the woman that they were probably friends making fun of me when in reality he was chastising her for her rude behavior. The truth is, everyone else was really nice and maybe a little embarrassed. The guy next to me, after trying earnestly to get me to accept Fanta and sandwich, finally got me to take a pack of gum. That's true Azeri culture. And that woman is no different from the people I saw in a McDonald's in Belleville Illinois taunting a man who didn't speak English.

School didn't go super great today. I was expecting twenty kids and only seven showed up. There are probably worse days than that to come. And sure, my life looks a lot like that teacher from Glee if he didn't also have Spanish. I will be afraid sometimes but I will not let that stop me. And disappointed probably even more times. I will probably never know the impact I might have. But it's about the process, and I accept that now.

Now

First day of school

Emma isn't a huge fan of timed photos. I, on the other hand, can't get enough of them, ha ha. Here we are just before heading out on the first day of school. September 15th 2009.

Bored Out of My Mind...

Emma is welcoming the newest group of Peace Corps Volunteers to Azerbaijan. The host family is at their home in Baku. I am bored out of my mind. Everyone has been gone since Thursday, October 1st so I have been occupying my time with various, time killing, pursuits.

First, on Thursday I started working on a cat house for our two adopted cats. Baby Cat, who turned up in late June, has been featured before. She is lovable, considerate and can take care of herself. Precocious Kitty, or PK, turned up in late August. She is whiny, mischievous and won't leave me alone. Either way, they have adopted us as surrogate parents and we in return have given them a US postal box in which to sleep. The problem is Samaxi is getting pretty cold and the box isn't going to do much good come November. Thus, with the wood left over from my Ping Pong table (scroll down) I fashioned them a home.

Here is the house.

Nothing fancy just wood and nails. It does serve it's purpose and that is what matters.

Baby Cat is on the left and PK is whining on the right.

Okay so Thursday and Friday were fine. It did take a while to put the cat house together as my hand saw is from 1960, rusted and I am pretty sure soviet built (burn). Still, the process of working everything out was fun.

Today however, I slept in, fried some chicken, then went 'Forrest Forrest Gump' all over the afternoon. The following pictures and videos should help explain how very unproductive today really was.

The ping pong table when more than one person is at the house.

The ping pong table when I am home alone. I used our grill to prop up the other side.

For the table I took two 5 by 5 pieces of plywood and trimmed them down to 5 by 4.5. I connected them with hinges so that I can fold up the table top and move it if we need to. The host family loves it, doesn't want me to move it, so there it sits. However, the hinges also help it become a one man ping pong court. The videos that follow show you what joy it brought me. If you have a slow connection don't wait for them to download. I am warning you now, what brings me joy is probably not what brings you joy. I must have done this for at least two hours... Sad really. very sad, ha ha.

Later.

Mathias