In Pillow We Trust

It's payday. ATM's are swarming with pensioners waving their cards in a clump. A few hold an entire stack of ATM cards, each wrapped with a piece of paper that has the card's pin code on it. I imagine they drove in from the village and are doing everyone a favor. But how could this person possibly keep track of each person's amount? How much should he take out of each account? That answer is simple. All of it.

People in Shamaxi, for the most part, do not keep their money in the bank. They keep it in the house; hidden in drawers, the refrigerator, or in their bras. The only investment option is to spend the money buying land, building a house or on new renovations.

We were discussing this phenomenon with a friend yesterday. I was describing one day when all three ATM's in town weren't working and I was wishing I had some cash stashed somewhere. Our friend was quick to point out that it's not ATM malfunction people are worried about:
"When SSR (the Soviet Union) ah, what's the word? dissolved, all the money eh...went away (hand motions for disappearing money) And a man is thinking, yesterday I had 15,000 rubles and now, I have nothing. Now we do not trust the bank, we trust the pillow." All the Soviet money was instantly worthless, all of it. Any account in the bank voided, as if it had never existed.

Just imagine that. Everything you've saved, you've worked for, gone. It's not so hard, really. Think of all those banks that failed at the beginning of the crisis two years ago, think about if every person who had money in those banks was now penniless. Think about how the stock market has crashed, how we are all waiting for it to slowly recover. But what if the stock market was never coming back? Or that it existed in New York and L.A. but everyone living in the new countries of Georgia, Montana, and Michigan were no longer a part?
When I think about all of this and compare it with the discomfort the financial crisis in America has caused and can't help but think that maybe I need to be cutting everyone I know in Azerbaijan a lot more slack.

Fifth Time's a Charm?

So we've moved into our new apartment. Inshallah, this will be the last time we move before we finish our service. For those of you keeping score at home, we've lived

1. Host Family in Sumgayit
2. Host Family in Shamaxi
3. "The Jackson Resort"
4. "The Cabin"
5. The Apartment

Living in Azerbaijan taught me that showing peope around your whole house (even bedrooms and bathrooms, gasp!) is a very culturally American thing. But I am an American and this is a good opportunity to show also what the average place is like for Azerbaijanis too. We live on the second floor of a two story row of apartment/townhomey things. So, with no further ado, the Grand Tour in Photos:
The Entryway:

Our Bedroom:


(The "dresser" only holds so much for two people so we had to get creative and make a clothing mural)


Guest Bedroom/Storage Room:


Dining Room/Living Room. When you talk to us on skype, it's the walls of this room that you'll see.

Porchy Kitchen with door to the toilet:

Ah yes, the infamous semi-sit-squat. Take your pick. Bucket flush.
Across the drive from our building each person has their own gated alley. The majority of it is patio with lines to hang laundry. The building has a small storage space and behind it the hamam, or shower room (Note the eggplant I took with us from my old garden):

Classic shower/Water heater combo:




The End!

It's all about who you know

About four days ago, tired from what seemed like a month's worth of travel, I entered my home to find the restful faces of a host family I wasn't expecting. They said hi, waited an hour and then told me we had to go...

Promptly I called Emma and then anyone else that might have been able to help. Within two days we had visited five homes and had decided on our current three room apartment.

When we moved from our first host family's house in April 2009, we were given very few options and it took a while to find a suitable home. However, a year and a half later, I finally feel as if we have made it. We have made it because of the people we have gotten to know.

Today, I took this "It's All About Who You Know" point a little further.

Internet usage in the regions of Azerbaijan is pretty small outside of Internet Clubs. However, we have been fortunate enough to have Internet at our last three residences. The first time we moved it took forever to transfer the coverage from one house to the other. This was because those who have Internet at home DON'T make a habit of moving and thus the people from whom we receive our Internet had little to no experience with transferring coverage. However, this time was very different.

I went in yesterday and spoke with the man in charge of all Internet whatnot in Samaxi. Being that I had done this before, he knew who I was and why this was an issue. However, in true Azeri fashion he hinted that if I wanted to get the Internet transferred I would have to pay him a bribe. I playfully told him that I don't pay bribes and was relying on his Azeri hospitality to help me out. Unhappy though he was, he said that the change would take place the following day (today).

Today I got up and checked the Internet... nothing... so being in a proactive mood I set off for the Internet office. When I arrived, I was told that the man with whom I had been speaking was no longer working there (Maybe because he was taking bribes... though probably not). They also told me that because of this, the very soonest I could expect to have anything changed over would be the first of July. That was of course unless I wanted to pay a full month's amount for the eight remaining days in June. If I did that they could probably help me out. I declined the offer and decided to call in the help of a friend.

The aforementioned friend works in the Internet connectivity office. Over the last year he has helped me out an incredible number of times concerning telephone and Internet issues. I explained the issue and he just smiled, taking note of the point that ONLY this other man could get me my Internet. That, he said, was absolutely wrong. He told me to go home, call his office from my home phone and then he could set us up.

I ran home, picked up the phone and found it dead. Worrying that I might be taking too long I called in the help of another friend. This man was a telephone repairman that had been very kind to me over the year and always said to call if I needed help. Thus, I called, he came and he fixed my telephone problem. An issue that otherwise might have taken two days, was handled in less than two hours. So, after a quick call to my friend in the connectivity office we had Internet. A small victory in the war against unstable housing situations and shoddy infrastructure, but a victory nonetheless.

Really when I look back at the events of the last week I can't help but believe it really is all about who you know.

-Mathias

Photos of the new place will be posted soon.

In America

First of all, let me say that America was awesome. Since most of you were there I won't go into too much detail but the itenerary went something like this:
West Point/Graduation->Party with Relatives->Roadtrip to Georgia->Time with immediate family (Rogers and Jacksons)->Gun Safety->Anniversary Dinner->Bagpipe Competition in South Carolina->Birthdays (Marshall and Emma)->Baseball->Ballet Recital->Brawners Lakehouse. Whew!

In the middle of all this, I tried to jot down a few of the things about America that stuck out to me. Here they are:
~There were more women wearing headscarves in Queens than in Shamaxi.

~The scale of the grocery store made me feel full. For months in Azerbaijan I had been planning shopping lists and when I got there I didn't want to buy anything. I couldn't imagine that there were enough people living in our area to consume everything in just one of the grocery stores. (Compare to Azerbaijan: There are about three bottles of shampoo on the shelf because that's probably all anyone's going to buy that week)

~America is going Green! The milk and ice cream cases turn off their lights when no one is looking (Seriously, you should have seen my face when this happened). CVS gives you a dollar for every three bags you don't take. Also, I know they're not new, but I couldn't stop noticing all the automatic water, flushing, soap dispensing and other germ-free things in airports and other public places.

~We automatically started wearing our clothes only once before washing them again.

~I felt sweatier in America.

~America is COLD. I think the air conditioners must have been cranking at 60. I was stuck in the catch-22 of needing more clothes in almost any building or car and yet wanting to be fashionable and wear less.

~There is so much to do, so many places to go. You cannot possibly be bored. I swam, assembled guns, watched tv, pet a manta ray, played badminton, went shopping, saw a movie, attended a Scottish festival and a ballet recital, ate at restaurants, drank starbucks, drove a car.... (compare: today I have washed socks and read a book).

~With all the opportunities surrounding me, all I wanted was to sit in my mom's "alone time chair". Furthermore, just the fact that my mom HAS an "alone time chair." I noticed one day that every person in the house was in a different room with their own different electronic equipment. And for the first time in my life, I really liked it. (Compare to: A total lack of privacy for the past two years).

~There are a lot of electronics everywhere. It was overwhelming. I need to get a home phone when I get back and tell people just to leave a message.

~Landscaping! Everything is landscaped. There is grass everywhere. Georgia clay remains impossibly red.

Top to Bottom: Gas station coffee (Size of cup); gun safety day (legal weapons in peaceful home); Pool (Men in shorts); Traditional American yard game (grass); National Dress and Music (of Scotland); National Pastime (We actually DO have a National Something!)

America!

We are going to America!! We'll be there in less than one week!

I must admit, America has taken on that glowy, mythical quality for me that I first associated with Azerbaijani friends who had never been there. I think this is because after being here for so long, I can't really remember what it's like. For example, someone asks me if tomatoes are expensive in America; I can't remember. One of my students pointed to a common desktop office accessory and asked what the word for it was in English; I can't remember. What do people wear? Do the really shower EVERY day?! I can't at this point imagine wearing my shoes inside someone's home or walking barefoot outside. I'm not saying I've forgotten everything. For example, I can walk mentally aisle by aisle through Trader Joe's and have been known to do so for entertainment purposes. I know exactly what it feels like to sit in my parents living room with my family. At least I think I do; I've never seen their new couch.

PCV's visiting America for vacation usually come back describing it as "big" "clean" and report that "the people are so nice!" and "everyone speaks English!" One friend says that hemlines are scandalously short these days and distracting amounts of skin exposure abound. I look forward to documenting my impressions.

I do know what I want to do when I get there. I want to drive a car to the store and buy a six-pack of beer. I don't even like beer, it will just feel so rebellious and free knowing that no one will care. And drive! I've only ridden in the front seat of a car once since getting here...

Rain and Shine

When things are very up and down its hard to decide what to blog about. I realize that while I often blog about various things I rarely get to the heart of what I do. Peace Corps is not what I expected at all, in good ways and in bad. It can be very very hard, followed by pretty darn good. The last two days are a good example of this.

Yesterday I was working on returning to my daily routine after spending a few days in Baku for medical. About two months ago my immune system finally gave up and since then I've had shingles, common but annoying colds and other maladies that require doctors visits and antibiotics. I've even had neighbors drip raw onion down my nose (attempted cure). So yesterday I was finally back home when I received a note from a student informing me that while I was gone the director of the women's center where I do most of my projects informed her that we can no longer meet there. I made a call and received confirmation, yes, while you were gone the entire place was shut down. No more tables, no more chairs. The computer containing the articles for the newsletter we've been working to publish for over three months is gone without warning. I fell apart. I may have said such dramatic things as "I have literally nothing to return to when we go to America." I may have laid in bed crying like a baby. The only thing that cheered me was how fabulously the rumbling thunderstorm in the background complemented my cinematic despair.

Today I woke to perfect temperatures and blue skies. For some strange reason, washing the dishes and sweeping the floor felt fun. I went and tutored a student. I went and visited a friend. She suggested we take a month long hiatus from the project, that it would be best for everyone what with the end of the school year and exams and vacations. And honestly, I would love a break from this project. Back home I thinned out the strawberry plants, spread broken eggshells on the lettuce to deter slugs and went over to the neighbors to borrow a scythe. She didn't have a scythe but she was working on cleaning some beautiful wool and after a short conversation about how I'm learning to spin she sent me home with lovely fluffy bunches in the most beautiful shade. I ate an Italian meal complete with french garlic bread I made myself from scratch and wine home-brewed by another close Azerbaijani friend.

What I'm trying to say is, this is what Peace Corps for me is like. Devastatingly disappointing days followed by bursts of sunshine. Or, to steal from Anne Lamott, it's Grace (Eventually).

"That's me, trying to make any progress at all with family, in work, relationships, self-image: scootch, scootch, stall; scootch, stall, catastrophic reversal; bog, bog, scootch. I wish grace and healing were more abracadabra kinds of things; also, that delicate silver bells would ring to announce grace's arrival. But no, it's clog and slog and scootch, on the floor, in silence, in the dark. I suppose that if you were snatched out of the mess, you'd miss the lesson; the lesson is the slog. I grew up thinking the lessons should be more like the von Trapp children: more marionettes, more dirndls and harmonies. But no: it's slog, bog, scootch."~Anne Lamott, Grace (Eventually) Thoughts on Faith.

Reunion

The first three months of any Peace Corps tour are reserved for Pre-Service Training. During this time, new Peace Corps Trainees (PCTs) attend daily language lessons, live with a host family and do their best to gain some insight into their host country's culture. PCTs in Azerbaijan spend this period of time in, and around, the city of Sumqayit. Due to the large number of trainees and the fact Azerbaijan is host to three different sectors (Teaching English as a Foreign Language - TEFL, Youth Development and Community Economic Development) new arrivals are split into clusters. These clusters are supposedly created with a number of factors in mind: Sector, Prior Exposure to a Second Language and Personal Learning Styles.

Emma and I, being of different sectors, did not share the same cluster. We lived in the same community but when it came to language / sector development lessons, we went our separate ways. My cluster was made up of five guys (Jeremy, Jon, Kevin, Tim and Myself) and Linda (a fellow married volunteer whose husband was in Emma's all girl cluster... poor guy). We became pretty close friends over the course of PST and thankfully our friendship has continued into our two years of service.

Last weekend, we all meet up in Ucar for a cluster reunion. Just five guys, just two nights, just one Kevin Neighbors.



We ate at a local tea house, visited the Bazaar and played a little plastic ball wall toss. Kevin even had us assist him in the making of some pretty fantastic falafal... but for the most part we just hung out and caught up. The latter being the best by far. Here are a couple of photos to fill in the gaps.

Nov 2008

Tim

Jeremy

Comparing

Jon

Me

April 2010