New Kids on the Block

So I wrote about how much we love our new place. I also want to take a moment and talk about how great our new neighbors are. In the past week they have so exemplified the great parts of Azeri culture that I wanted to make sure I took note of it.
When new neighbors pull up in your neighborhood, do you send your kids to unpack their truck?
Well that's what happened to us. Granted, we don't have that much stuff; it all fits in one and a half Ladas. I thought it was a good sign when as we crept down the stony, muddy road, our taxi driver said, "you'll have good neighbors here." My impression is that most of our neighbors are relatives. We pay our rent to the sister of the homeowner and every kid who was helping us move identified themselves as each other's cousins. They not only moved in our stuff but carried bed frames and mattresses in from another house for us and made sure that our peç was correctly installed (many interchangeable pieces-hilarity ensues).
When is the last time your landlord offered to give you the things you might need that you don't have?
Before our landlady left us alone she made sure to fill a kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil. Tea always comes first.
She was also concerned that we might not have slippers as the floor is not carpeted and would be cold. I assured her that our slippers were hiding somewhere in our luggage.
Lastly she gave us an oil lamp. We protested "Oh, we don't need that!" She responded by giving it anyway and saying "It's for nighttime." Makes me wonder how often the power will be going out...
Remember when you thought of baking some brownies for the new neighbors and then reconsidered in case they would think it was weird?
And just tonight as we were preparing dinner we heard a knock on the door. Mathias went to investigate and returned with a bag of fruit (quince, pomegranates and persimmons) from yet another neighbor.
I had been nervous about going through it all again-everyone staring, explaining who we were and where we are from, that no, we don't speak Russian, etc. etc. But it's been great and I feel really comfortable here.

Moral of the story: If a foreigner moves in down the street, go ahead and give them those brownies or some fruit. It will probably make their day.