Good Bye to an Old Friend

Most that know me, know I am pretty partial to baseball caps. Perhaps my favorite of all time was a Webster University trucker hat that I had for the last six years. It was with me in Japan, at Webster, in Belleville and it traveled with me to Azerbaijan. Alas, due to wet winters and moldy conditions my old cap suffered greatly over the last two years. Thus, this spring I "put her out to pasture." What follows is a photo story line chronicling our time together. RIP Old Friend.

Wearing the cap at Martina's 2004 High School Graduation Party

Lake Weekend with the Boys 2004 (Justin put on a shirt)

In Takayama, Japan with my Japanese roommate and his family 2005

Senior year skiing with the college crew 2006

Emma and me at the softball game the Thursday before our wedding 2007

Trip to Pine Island Maine 2008

My three leg race partner and me in Lankaran last summer 2009

The last time we were together, late April 2010

In Flames

The End

Boy Scout Weekend

This was written, but obviously not posted, in mid-April...

Two weeks ago, Emma and I were in Baku for Easter. During that time, we were lucky enough to spend a couple of meals with some very generous ex-pats. At one of those meals I met the local Baku Boy Scout Scoutmaster. He explained that he ran a multinational troop and I explained that I was an Eagle Scout. Our mutual interest grew as we discovered that his troop's next camp-out was actually to my region, Samaxi. He suggested that I come out and talk to the troop about my time as a Boy Scout, as well as my experiences in Azerbaijan as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Very excited about being able to camp-out and get back into scouting, I eagerly accepted.

So... Last Friday rolled around, I met the troop's caravan of SUVs in Samaxi and we headed up to the designated camp-site. Originally I thought we would be camping by a lake somewhat close to a village I had visited. However, once joining the caravan I realized that we were heading for a site up close to the Soviet Era Observatory and Azerbaijani National Park, Pirgulu.

We stopped a couple of times along the way to pick up a variety of items: charcoal, a local guide and then after about a half an hour of driving up into a thickening fog, directions from a wandering villager. The directions worked and we soon found ourselves at a damp, slightly horizontal campsite. The cars were unpacked, tents pitched and food organized. For dinner we had foil wraps, which for anyone who has participated in a Boy Scout Event, is known as the staple of solid camp cuisine.

After dinner, the dads pulled out a guitar and we sang 70's rock anthems such as: Sweet Home Alabama, The Weight, Sweet Baby James, American Pie, etc. To top it all, we were even provided Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate. It really doesn't get much better.

So, after a long night of warm sugary beverages and fire side songs, I headed off to bed. I don't have any pictures of this but I shared a tent with two of the adult troop leaders. Our tent was staked upon some of the more level ground available, still twice in the night I woke up a foot or so south of my pillow having slid down the hill, ha ha.

The next morning I woke to the sound of excited pre-teens and the smell of sizzling bacon. After a large breakfast containing portions of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon, the kids started on a number of tasks pertaining to certain scouting requirements they were in need of completing.

During that time, I was able to talk to most of the dads. A lot of the families were in Azerbaijan due to the fathers working for BP, Chevron... IE, Big Oil. However, despite the stigma attached to working for those companies, these dads turned out to be incredible guys. (I am thinking of the oil men I have met while out in some of Baku's finer drinking establishments, when writing this semi judgmental line...) One of which was actually from St. Louis and he was a HUGE Cardinals fan. See, I mean these guys were cool. So, yeah, the boys worked on merit badges while I got to talk to the dads.

At lunch, I talked to the boys about being an Eagle Scout and a Peace Corps Volunteer. Then we headed out on what was supposed to be a five mile hike. The path led right into the mountains and by the end, five miles had turned into seven and a half... We hiked around some of the most beautiful parts of Azerbaijan I have ever seen. It was really great to revisit some of the more compelling reasons for while Azerbaijan is so very special. The diversity of nature and breathtaking beauty of the southern Caucuses are quite impressive. It is nice to be reminded of that.

The weekend was a great escape from the rush of my dramatically slow life, ha ha. Here are some pictures of the fun.

American Tents

The Dads singing American classics

Breakfast

Crossing at the semi-dry riverbed

The Troop

3/4 of the way into the hike

-Mathias

A Little Night Music at 93 Degrees

It's 11:30 p.m., the noisiest time of the day. Children are running screaming through the alleyways, playing games. The sounds of chattering women drifts through the open windows while men slap their dominoes and nərd pieces against hard wooden tables. The sun has finally gone down and provided a few hours of cool sociability.

Very few people in Azerbaijan have air conditioning in their homes. This includes us. No air conditioner necessitates keeping the windows open all the time. Many doors are replaced with breezy lace curtains to block out bugs and remind cats where the border between outside and inside lies. And the thing about not having doors and windows is that sound carries. The openness transforms our private little boxes into a loose community of honking horns, private arguments and music lessons. At ten a.m. the quiet is broken by the qatıq xanım, a grandmotherly figure with a raspy cadenced holler that could challenge any beer seller at Busch Stadium. Smetan! Yarpaqmızdan! Kimə Lazım?! Sour cream! From our leaves, Who needs some?! Now I'll admit, I don't understand the "from our leaves" part. She's selling homemade yogurt, sour cream and soft cheese out of large jars and comes by a few times a week. By noon it is surprisingly quiet. I assume that everyone, like us, is taking naps and avoiding anything too strenuous. Stirrings of sound mark the preparation of dinner and by nightfall it's as if everyone breathes a huge sigh of relief and lets out all of the chatter and noise they've been preserving throughout the day.

Every night I enjoy this. I even consider going downstairs and sitting with the ladies on their stoops to perhaps try and soak up some gossip. But my American privacy-obsessed shyness takes over and we watch a movie instead. Let me be more specific-My middle class suburban American privacy-obsessed shyness. There are places in America where the communal front stoop has not been abandoned. Mathias and I used to live in Belleville and drive through East Saint everyday and that's when we first noticed that there are still groups of Americans who don't have air conditioning. And because of that, whole neighborhoods go outside and sit on the front stoop to share their lives with those around them who also lack the luxury. This in stark contrast to where I grew up, where houses are far apart and people can't imagine living without the air conditioner humming. But in this specific situation I'm not sure who is the disadvantaged group. Which is the greater luxury? Physical comfort or feeling part of a close community? I guess it depends on how hot it is. But at 93 degrees, I'm still tempted to choose the latter. That is, if I had a choice. But since I don't, I'll just sip my iced tea and keep listening to the night music.

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!)