Dushanbe: Day 1

This morning, our flight from Istanbul arrived at around 3p.m. By the time we unloaded and found our luggage (Jen’s never came – poor Jen) it was light outside. I expected it to be steaming, but the air was pleasantly cool and everything looked and smelled fresh. I had a feeling that it would be a good summer.

Our resident director, Curran, met us at the airport. We all loaded into a van and drove to our respective host-families. My host-family has a single-story house built around a courtyard, in which they grow grapes and tomatoes and apricots and some other delicious things that I don't know the words for. When I arrived, they sat me on the platform and fed me flat, round bread with homemade jam and kashi.

Finally, I asked if I could sleep. It was 7:30 a.m. by this point, so the showed me to my room – two rooms actually – I laid my things on the ground, and fell into bed fully dressed. My host-mother woke me at twenty to 11 a.m., I got dressed, and we went to the American Councils office.

The office is new and welcoming; plus, it has air-conditioning. This is important because, today, the low was 108 degrees and it’s mid-June. Needless to say, it was hot. Curran gave us a quick run-through of what to expect living in Tajikistan. It’s a very safe place, but be wary of police officers. Don’t flash your wealth around. Don’t wear revealing clothing. After that, we started talking about the exciting stuff – excursions. Curran has three potential excursions planned for us this summer. The first, I can’t remember. The second, I can’t remember. The third, though, is to the Pamirs and I can’t wait.

For five or six days, we are meant to drive the Pamiri Highway in rented vehicles of mass destruction (SUVs). Along the border with Afghanistan, you can often see nomadic Afghans with llamas. Also, from certain points along the highway, you can see the mountains stretching all the way to Pakistan. The Wakhan Corridor is mostly peopled with Kyrgyz tribesman who still live a nomadic lifestyle and have maintained their Kyrgyz language and culture despite being separated from their kindred by mountains and years and national boundaries. Needless to say, I'm stoked.

After our meeting at the office, we got a tour of the main part of the city, which is far more developed (at least along the main street) and scenic than I’d expected. Many of the buildings are painted eggshell blue with white trim, others are salmon pink. Most are built in the Russian style, which makes them very picturesque and there are fountains EVERYWHERE. It was about 108 degrees, so I sweated profusely and tried to stick to the shade. However, it was hard not to let the heat drag me down, as well as the jet lag. I felt like the walking dead.


I finally got back to my host-family’s house around 5:30 where they fed me clear broth with a chicken leg in it, vinegared vegetables, and osh (plov) with beef chunks. After I helped clear the table, my host-mother called me in to their section of the house to watch an Indian movie dubbed into Uzbek. “I just love this,” she said. Every time a house would catch on fire or a love would get stabbed, she would gasp. “I LOVE this!” I think we’ll get along.

At 9 p.m., I’d had it for the day and said my goodnights and passed out within seconds of putting my head on the pillow. And thus ended day one in Tajikistan.