No comment needed (except for this one, of course).Thursday, August 20, 2009
Back at Home (Again)
My jet-lag is terrible. It's 12:40 a.m. and, after sleeping for a solid 3 -4 hours this afternoon, I'm wide awake. Coming back is always far worse than going there (wherever that may be). This return has its additional stresses - there is a wedding to be planned, exercise to be done, and a job to be found. Of course, there are the fun parts to: Catching up with friends, hanging with my fiance and Scotta the Cat, and visiting with my family. I feel so happy to be home; so sad to not be sleeping right now.
This past trip has formented changes in me. Every time I go overseas, I learn a little more about myself. First of all, I learned that my Uzbek is really quite excellent - quite possibly the best foreign language that I speak/have ever spoken. I only wish that it were more useful. If you'd like to start a conversation circle, you know where to reach me. Second, I gained confidence in myself as a manager and director, which I really needed. Finally, I suspect that I have found my life path (cheesy sounding, but its almost 1 a.m. and my brain isn't functioning correctly).
Getting to know my amazing female colleagues on this trip and comparing their experiences in Central Asia to what I've learned through my studies and my previous travels, I realized that what I really want to focus on is gender issues - not just for the sake of the economy, though it's crucial to a healthy economy to have an educated and professional female population, but because women are inherently equal to men and deserve to be treated as such. I have a some fledgling ideas about how I'll go about implementing change, but it's a sensitive subject and will take a lot of time, research, and more experience in the field (Ritchie can be my research assistant ;).
Overall, I feel very grateful for this experience, not just because of what I learned from my role as Resident Director and through working with the staff and students (each amazing in their own way), but also because of what it taught me about myself. After searching through muddled thoughts about my future for years, everything has suddenly become clear.
Isn't it funny how that happens?
This past trip has formented changes in me. Every time I go overseas, I learn a little more about myself. First of all, I learned that my Uzbek is really quite excellent - quite possibly the best foreign language that I speak/have ever spoken. I only wish that it were more useful. If you'd like to start a conversation circle, you know where to reach me. Second, I gained confidence in myself as a manager and director, which I really needed. Finally, I suspect that I have found my life path (cheesy sounding, but its almost 1 a.m. and my brain isn't functioning correctly).
Getting to know my amazing female colleagues on this trip and comparing their experiences in Central Asia to what I've learned through my studies and my previous travels, I realized that what I really want to focus on is gender issues - not just for the sake of the economy, though it's crucial to a healthy economy to have an educated and professional female population, but because women are inherently equal to men and deserve to be treated as such. I have a some fledgling ideas about how I'll go about implementing change, but it's a sensitive subject and will take a lot of time, research, and more experience in the field (Ritchie can be my research assistant ;).
Overall, I feel very grateful for this experience, not just because of what I learned from my role as Resident Director and through working with the staff and students (each amazing in their own way), but also because of what it taught me about myself. After searching through muddled thoughts about my future for years, everything has suddenly become clear.
Isn't it funny how that happens?
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Eating Soil: Update
After receiving a lot of feedback on my friend who craved soil (apparently, a condition common in South American and known as 'pico'), I advised her to visit the doctor. Thanks to everyone who commented, I told her that she might be suffering an iron deficiency and should get a blood test and supplements. When she visited the doctor, she relayed the information and was indeed found to have very low iron. She now takes supplements daily and her craving for soil has declined. I only wonder that the doctor didn't think of this when she was first consulted about my friend's desire for dirt. Obviously, the medical care here is not up to par and when I think about all the women who might be suffering similar and equally treatable conditions, it makes me shudder.
Thanks again for positively influencing the health of my friend and her baby.
Thanks again for positively influencing the health of my friend and her baby.
Gender Roles or Constantly Cleaning Up the Messes of Others
Yesterday, my co-director was ill with fever and diarrhea. I brought her tea and some Ibuprofen and asked how she was.
“Merrrrrrrrrr,” she moaned. “I have to go home and clean because Daler is such an idiot and my Mom is coming home tomorrow.”
I advised her to stay in bed, that Daler was capable of cleaning the house on his own.
“No, he’s such an idiot,” she responded. “He left the house messy and my Mom will blame me.”
Daler is my co-director’s brother and, like my co-director and the majority of young people in Tajikistan, lives at home with his mother. His mom and my co-director take care of his daily needs because he’s a man and is unable to do so himself. For example, they wash his clothes, they cook his food, and they clean the house for him. While my co-director was working without a break at camp, her brother was working his normal eight hour days, going home, and making a mess.
Unfortunately, because he’s a man, it seems that he lacks the ability to remedy this on his own. And no one, least of all himself, expects him to be able to. Because my co-director is a woman, she should use her time off to clean up after him, while he does what he wants. Her mother expects this. Her grandmother expects this. Even she expects this.
I spoke with another woman at camp about this, who said, “It’s just gender roles in Tajikistan.” She said that, when she got married, she hoped to share household and financial responsibilities with her spouse, but that her mother didn’t see it that way. “Some of the people in our generation are moving forward,” she said, “But others are going in the opposite direction and our parents’ generation is definitely stuck in the old patterns.”
When I think about the women’s movement in the US and how a united group of people worked so hard, not only to gain equal rights, but to change perceptions of the role of women, I can’t imagine something similar in Tajikistan. A women’s movement here would be a much quieter, slower affair. It would take place in individual homes, where educated women would silently press on for their equality; constantly taking two steps forward and one step back, but moving forward all the same. I wish them the best of luck.
“Merrrrrrrrrr,” she moaned. “I have to go home and clean because Daler is such an idiot and my Mom is coming home tomorrow.”
I advised her to stay in bed, that Daler was capable of cleaning the house on his own.
“No, he’s such an idiot,” she responded. “He left the house messy and my Mom will blame me.”
Daler is my co-director’s brother and, like my co-director and the majority of young people in Tajikistan, lives at home with his mother. His mom and my co-director take care of his daily needs because he’s a man and is unable to do so himself. For example, they wash his clothes, they cook his food, and they clean the house for him. While my co-director was working without a break at camp, her brother was working his normal eight hour days, going home, and making a mess.
Unfortunately, because he’s a man, it seems that he lacks the ability to remedy this on his own. And no one, least of all himself, expects him to be able to. Because my co-director is a woman, she should use her time off to clean up after him, while he does what he wants. Her mother expects this. Her grandmother expects this. Even she expects this.
I spoke with another woman at camp about this, who said, “It’s just gender roles in Tajikistan.” She said that, when she got married, she hoped to share household and financial responsibilities with her spouse, but that her mother didn’t see it that way. “Some of the people in our generation are moving forward,” she said, “But others are going in the opposite direction and our parents’ generation is definitely stuck in the old patterns.”
When I think about the women’s movement in the US and how a united group of people worked so hard, not only to gain equal rights, but to change perceptions of the role of women, I can’t imagine something similar in Tajikistan. A women’s movement here would be a much quieter, slower affair. It would take place in individual homes, where educated women would silently press on for their equality; constantly taking two steps forward and one step back, but moving forward all the same. I wish them the best of luck.
Updates from the Taj
This past week, the American students went to stay with their first host-families. I hate to be left out of an adventure, so I went to stay with a host-family, too! One of the Tajik instructors, Mavjuda, graciously invited me to come to her parents' house and then to a village an hour outside Dushanbe to visit some relatives.
Her parents' home has been built recently and is in a depressing suburb of Dushanbe. Half-completed homes are scattered in large lots without grass or trees. The road is unpaved and bumpy. As the neighborhood is near to the airport, planes fly overhead constantly. However, things are nicer than they seem. Driving through the gate into her parents walled compound, I saw a garden covered in grape arbors, trees, and flowers everywhere. Family members drank tea and mineral water in the shade, while grandchildren road bikes on the drive.
We ate and ate and ate, drank tea, and ate some more (I am working on gaining back my water weight ;). After sleeping in an expansive and new-smelling guest room, I woke early the next morning and drove with Mavjuda and her brother to the village. The road took us through the mountains to a small village with washed-out roads in a valley, where sheep and goats grazed on the sides of the hills. The home of her relative was a basic structure - a long building with rooms for each of the sons and their wives. The three kelins (daughters-in-law) brought us course after course of food, not to mention fruits, chocolates, bread, tea, juices, and cookies. As a guest, I had to try everything or risk causing offence. By the end of the day, I was almost in tears at the thought of having to eat something else.
I returned to camp with the American students on Tuesday morning. I was exhausted and probably ten pounds heavier, but speaking Tajik better than I had when I left. Guesting is fun for a few days, but constantly eating and being stared at is so tiring that I wouldn't be able to keep it up.
Her parents' home has been built recently and is in a depressing suburb of Dushanbe. Half-completed homes are scattered in large lots without grass or trees. The road is unpaved and bumpy. As the neighborhood is near to the airport, planes fly overhead constantly. However, things are nicer than they seem. Driving through the gate into her parents walled compound, I saw a garden covered in grape arbors, trees, and flowers everywhere. Family members drank tea and mineral water in the shade, while grandchildren road bikes on the drive.
We ate and ate and ate, drank tea, and ate some more (I am working on gaining back my water weight ;). After sleeping in an expansive and new-smelling guest room, I woke early the next morning and drove with Mavjuda and her brother to the village. The road took us through the mountains to a small village with washed-out roads in a valley, where sheep and goats grazed on the sides of the hills. The home of her relative was a basic structure - a long building with rooms for each of the sons and their wives. The three kelins (daughters-in-law) brought us course after course of food, not to mention fruits, chocolates, bread, tea, juices, and cookies. As a guest, I had to try everything or risk causing offence. By the end of the day, I was almost in tears at the thought of having to eat something else.
I returned to camp with the American students on Tuesday morning. I was exhausted and probably ten pounds heavier, but speaking Tajik better than I had when I left. Guesting is fun for a few days, but constantly eating and being stared at is so tiring that I wouldn't be able to keep it up.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Mystery of the Clothes in the Toilet
The Crime:
Yesterday, Malika returned from her day off to find her bathing suit in the toilet. Not only was it floating in toilet water, but someone had squeezed foul smelling shampoo all over it. Malika retrieved her bathing suit and had it cleaned, but she’ll forever think twice about wearing that suit.
Today, we found another girls’ suit in the toilet, along with another students’ facial cleanser. The cleanser had, once again, been squeezed all over the suit. To add a further element to the mystery, several of the students had previously admired the girl’s suit (now in the toilet). Perhaps jealousy had driven someone to give it a toilet-water bath? Malika and I retrieved the suit and sent it to be cleaned.
So far, the clothes only appear in the toilet at a particular time in the afternoon (3 – 5 p.m., during free time). We can’t install security cameras in the bathroom and no one has confessed so, for the time being, the mystery continues. We have, however, identified several suspects.
The Suspects:
Salome: She’s a mysterious child with a penchant for embellishment (I think she’s 7, but she claims 11) who appeared yesterday. Her father left her at the camp (why?) and she’s been lurking around ever since, playing ping-pong and swimming in the pool. Everyone knows that ping-pong and swimming are suspect activities.
Disgruntled Camp Staffer: I’d be disgruntled if I had to clean up after fourteen messy girls every day, too. However, I can’t imagine that someone would risk their job for a childish prank.
Student with Evil on their Mind: This person has yet to be identified, as I don’t think any of them have evil deeds on their minds. However, we can’t rule out this possibility, as girls can sometimes be really, really mean to one another. Is it a nice girl who is hiding a bitter soul? Or a snobby student who thinks that she’s not getting the attention she deserves? I’ll observe them with an eagle’s eye.
I need to figure this out before Ann Rule gets on the case. Most importantly, I need to figure this out before MY swimming suit ends up in the toilet. You never know who might be next.
Yesterday, Malika returned from her day off to find her bathing suit in the toilet. Not only was it floating in toilet water, but someone had squeezed foul smelling shampoo all over it. Malika retrieved her bathing suit and had it cleaned, but she’ll forever think twice about wearing that suit.
Today, we found another girls’ suit in the toilet, along with another students’ facial cleanser. The cleanser had, once again, been squeezed all over the suit. To add a further element to the mystery, several of the students had previously admired the girl’s suit (now in the toilet). Perhaps jealousy had driven someone to give it a toilet-water bath? Malika and I retrieved the suit and sent it to be cleaned.
So far, the clothes only appear in the toilet at a particular time in the afternoon (3 – 5 p.m., during free time). We can’t install security cameras in the bathroom and no one has confessed so, for the time being, the mystery continues. We have, however, identified several suspects.
The Suspects:
Salome: She’s a mysterious child with a penchant for embellishment (I think she’s 7, but she claims 11) who appeared yesterday. Her father left her at the camp (why?) and she’s been lurking around ever since, playing ping-pong and swimming in the pool. Everyone knows that ping-pong and swimming are suspect activities.
Disgruntled Camp Staffer: I’d be disgruntled if I had to clean up after fourteen messy girls every day, too. However, I can’t imagine that someone would risk their job for a childish prank.
Student with Evil on their Mind: This person has yet to be identified, as I don’t think any of them have evil deeds on their minds. However, we can’t rule out this possibility, as girls can sometimes be really, really mean to one another. Is it a nice girl who is hiding a bitter soul? Or a snobby student who thinks that she’s not getting the attention she deserves? I’ll observe them with an eagle’s eye.
I need to figure this out before Ann Rule gets on the case. Most importantly, I need to figure this out before MY swimming suit ends up in the toilet. You never know who might be next.
Take That, Tajik Tummy!
I finally folded to the Cipro. Five years ago when I arrived in Kyrgyzstan, I heard horror stories about Cipro – it’s like a nuclear bomb for your intestines; it causes farts with three heads and five arms; it will make your intestines shrivel and die; your stomach will never be the same again.
Because of these fears, I’ve always avoided Cipro. However, I’ve been in Tajikistan for just over two weeks and have been ill for over half of that time. When I weighed myself on Saturday, I was shocked to find that I’ve lost around ten pounds. It’s not a nice fit-into-tiny-jeans weight loss, mind you. It’s a pale, stooped, weak, and bloated kind of weight loss (sort of like Lindsay Lohan at her worst). People keep asking me if I’m tired. I am.
The turning point, however, was when we watched Pirates of the Caribbean III and I almost cried. Why can’t Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley be together? Why?!!! After tossing and turning all night, tortured by their tortured love, I knew that something had to change. I only have sensitive feelings when I’m sick and I’m tired of being sick.
In a moment of final desperation, I nuclear bombed my stomach. After writhing on my bed in an agony of nausea for an hour or two, I’m beginning to feel better! I’m no longer doing laps between my bed and the bathroom. And, I only woke up once in the middle of the night and that was because Malika, my roommate and co-director, was too scared to go to the toilet on her own.
These positive changes leave me hopeful. In the next couple of days, I plan to be out running again, swimming in the pool, and participating heartily in weekly dance classes. Wish me luck as my intestines and I move forward into our bright future, but don’t judge us if we bring along some crazy-looking gas.
We’ve been through a lot in the past week.
Because of these fears, I’ve always avoided Cipro. However, I’ve been in Tajikistan for just over two weeks and have been ill for over half of that time. When I weighed myself on Saturday, I was shocked to find that I’ve lost around ten pounds. It’s not a nice fit-into-tiny-jeans weight loss, mind you. It’s a pale, stooped, weak, and bloated kind of weight loss (sort of like Lindsay Lohan at her worst). People keep asking me if I’m tired. I am.
The turning point, however, was when we watched Pirates of the Caribbean III and I almost cried. Why can’t Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley be together? Why?!!! After tossing and turning all night, tortured by their tortured love, I knew that something had to change. I only have sensitive feelings when I’m sick and I’m tired of being sick.
In a moment of final desperation, I nuclear bombed my stomach. After writhing on my bed in an agony of nausea for an hour or two, I’m beginning to feel better! I’m no longer doing laps between my bed and the bathroom. And, I only woke up once in the middle of the night and that was because Malika, my roommate and co-director, was too scared to go to the toilet on her own.
These positive changes leave me hopeful. In the next couple of days, I plan to be out running again, swimming in the pool, and participating heartily in weekly dance classes. Wish me luck as my intestines and I move forward into our bright future, but don’t judge us if we bring along some crazy-looking gas.
We’ve been through a lot in the past week.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Chillaxing in the Dush
It's my night off! I'm hanging out with Jarrett in Dushanbe, watching DVDs in the AC. He's staying at his friend Anna's apartment in the middle of downtown and it all feels very luxurious compared to camp. Tonight, we might even do adult things, such as drink a beer or two at the Opera Ballet! It's the little things of independent adulthood that I miss the most lately.
The camp driver dropped me off in front of the apartment complex and the girls in the backseat shouted, "Go easy on the Sim Sim, Ailey!" I gave them my best stern look, but laughed as soon as I got out. Going easy on the Sim Sim won't be a problem for me - I've had the Tajik Tummy and a head cold for the past week. Rather, having the energy to enjoy my night off will be the issue. Thankfully, Jarrett is in a mood for relaxation.
Anyway, this weekend wraps-up my second week in Tajikistan. I'm keeping busy observing Tajik classes, writing reports and maintaining the camp blog, teaching the teachers to swim, and frying my brain with the Perso-Arabic alphabet. The time is going by quickly and I relish my rare nights off, especially when I can spend them with Jarrett (and AC).
The camp driver dropped me off in front of the apartment complex and the girls in the backseat shouted, "Go easy on the Sim Sim, Ailey!" I gave them my best stern look, but laughed as soon as I got out. Going easy on the Sim Sim won't be a problem for me - I've had the Tajik Tummy and a head cold for the past week. Rather, having the energy to enjoy my night off will be the issue. Thankfully, Jarrett is in a mood for relaxation.
Anyway, this weekend wraps-up my second week in Tajikistan. I'm keeping busy observing Tajik classes, writing reports and maintaining the camp blog, teaching the teachers to swim, and frying my brain with the Perso-Arabic alphabet. The time is going by quickly and I relish my rare nights off, especially when I can spend them with Jarrett (and AC).
Monday, July 13, 2009
Eating Soil
One of the English teachers at Camp Umeda is six months pregnant. She is funny, straightforward, open, and kind. She has become a good friend of mine, even though we've only been here for a week.
Last night, I saw my friend getting ready to leave camp. I asked where she was going. "I want to go on a walk," she responded. I insisted that I go with her, as it was getting late and soon it would be dark. We went back and forth on the issue, until she finally said,
"I want to eat some soil."
"You mean dirt?" I said. "You want to eat dirt? Like you've offended someone and now you feel bad?"
"No, I want to eat some soil. Like some stuff from the earth. I want to eat that."
I had heard of pregnant people liking to eat strange things, like chalk or pickles and ice cream, but never soil. I told this to my friend and she said, "Sometimes when I'm driving or walking, I see some soil and I think that it looks really delicious. I have to go find some now." I asked why she didn't just eat some of the soil at camp, but she replied, "I don't like the soil here; it's not so delicious."
So we walked. Sometimes my friend would spot some potentially delicious soil and would sample it, but nothing seemed to satisfy her craving for the right kind of soil. I recommended a place where I had seen some nice smooth soil, across a bridge and up the hill about 10 minutes. We went there and she sampled it and found it to her liking. She filled a plastic bag with soil (for later) and we walked back to the camp for Evening Activities.
Last night, I saw my friend getting ready to leave camp. I asked where she was going. "I want to go on a walk," she responded. I insisted that I go with her, as it was getting late and soon it would be dark. We went back and forth on the issue, until she finally said,
"I want to eat some soil."
"You mean dirt?" I said. "You want to eat dirt? Like you've offended someone and now you feel bad?"
"No, I want to eat some soil. Like some stuff from the earth. I want to eat that."
I had heard of pregnant people liking to eat strange things, like chalk or pickles and ice cream, but never soil. I told this to my friend and she said, "Sometimes when I'm driving or walking, I see some soil and I think that it looks really delicious. I have to go find some now." I asked why she didn't just eat some of the soil at camp, but she replied, "I don't like the soil here; it's not so delicious."
So we walked. Sometimes my friend would spot some potentially delicious soil and would sample it, but nothing seemed to satisfy her craving for the right kind of soil. I recommended a place where I had seen some nice smooth soil, across a bridge and up the hill about 10 minutes. We went there and she sampled it and found it to her liking. She filled a plastic bag with soil (for later) and we walked back to the camp for Evening Activities.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Back in Tajikistan
I've been back in Tajikistan for about a week now, but the internet is so slow that Blogger keeps crashing on me (shakes fist at sky). So far, things have been pretty commonplace. While cows in the road and road stops by KGB officers are not unusual to me, it's been fun to see the students' reactions. Everyone seems to have a positive outlook on Tajikistan and that pleases me. To be honest, the camp is kind of a cushy version of Tajikistan. We have air-conditioned classrooms, a sort-of swimming pool, ping pong, nice cabins, cooks, and laundry service. We're also located about 20 minutes outside of the city and in the foothills of the Fan Mountains. The air is cool and fresh and there are trees and birds everywhere.
I've been kept busy observing the students' Tajik classes (I've been learning some Tajik, myself) and participating in our daily activities. These have included Tajik dance class, traditional embroidery, painting, and, today, cooking. Farkhod, the only male camp staffer, has informed me that I will assist him in preparing osh (plov) tonight. We're going to do it the right way - in a big iron kazan over an open fire in the yard.
The best part of my trip thus far was visiting my host-family yesterday. I didn't call first, so I surprised them at home. As I knocked on the door, I was so excited that I almost cried. The only time I've felt that way has been waiting for Ritchie to get off and airplane or waiting to see him as I get off. They gave me an awesome welcome with lots of hugs, tons of food (of course), and demands to come back shortly. The kids even remembered my name and we played with the sidewalk chalk that I brought them in the garden. The visit was too short, as I needed to return to camp, but I'll visit them again next week.
On Saturday evening, Jarrett and I will be reunited in Dushanbe. I can't wait to see him and hear about his work in Garm. I've heard rumors of unrest there and want to hear about his experiences.
Anyway, that's it for now and I'll try to update again soon; that is, if the internet doesn't give me an aneurism first.
I've been kept busy observing the students' Tajik classes (I've been learning some Tajik, myself) and participating in our daily activities. These have included Tajik dance class, traditional embroidery, painting, and, today, cooking. Farkhod, the only male camp staffer, has informed me that I will assist him in preparing osh (plov) tonight. We're going to do it the right way - in a big iron kazan over an open fire in the yard.
The best part of my trip thus far was visiting my host-family yesterday. I didn't call first, so I surprised them at home. As I knocked on the door, I was so excited that I almost cried. The only time I've felt that way has been waiting for Ritchie to get off and airplane or waiting to see him as I get off. They gave me an awesome welcome with lots of hugs, tons of food (of course), and demands to come back shortly. The kids even remembered my name and we played with the sidewalk chalk that I brought them in the garden. The visit was too short, as I needed to return to camp, but I'll visit them again next week.
On Saturday evening, Jarrett and I will be reunited in Dushanbe. I can't wait to see him and hear about his work in Garm. I've heard rumors of unrest there and want to hear about his experiences.
Anyway, that's it for now and I'll try to update again soon; that is, if the internet doesn't give me an aneurism first.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
How Perspectives Differ
In the airport this morning, I met a soldier who was returning home from Afghanistan for two weeks of R&R. He had been hit by a roadside bomb and two of his friends died. The soldier was frank about his experiences, if slightly glassy-eyed. How does one respond to the statement, "My two best friends died over there." I simply responded, "I'm sorry, man." I had never met or talked to the guy in my life.
I saw him again in the terminal and he asked me where I was going. When I answered "Tajikistan," he told me to be careful:
"That part of the world is teeming with terrorists. They're like beehives in there."
I have never seen the terrorist side of Central Asia. I've read about it in Rashid and I'm familiar with the existence of the IMU and Hizb-ut-Tahrir, but the Central Asia that I know is tea-drinking in the garden, stuffing yourself with sheep fat, vodka shooting, and desperate for peace. This soldier had obviously seen the dark underbelly of a society that I will never truly know. Conversely, he had never seen the overwhelming hospitality and humor of the people.
Our different positions have limited us to our own perspectives: mine rosy, his forever colored by the death of his best friends.
I saw him again in the terminal and he asked me where I was going. When I answered "Tajikistan," he told me to be careful:
"That part of the world is teeming with terrorists. They're like beehives in there."
I have never seen the terrorist side of Central Asia. I've read about it in Rashid and I'm familiar with the existence of the IMU and Hizb-ut-Tahrir, but the Central Asia that I know is tea-drinking in the garden, stuffing yourself with sheep fat, vodka shooting, and desperate for peace. This soldier had obviously seen the dark underbelly of a society that I will never truly know. Conversely, he had never seen the overwhelming hospitality and humor of the people.
Our different positions have limited us to our own perspectives: mine rosy, his forever colored by the death of his best friends.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Kabul in Winter
I just started reading Kabul in Winter by Ann Jones and, though I love literature about Afghanistan, I find myself constantly putting the book down in disgust. Despite claiming that the book is a journalistic account of life in the city after the fall of the Taliban, the writing is so absurdly biased that I can't take the author seriously. Take, for example, the following quote:
"Everyone knows that Bush the Lesser doesn't read history or much of anything else and thus may remain too this day the only person in the world who doesn't know that what followed the British invasion of Afghanistan in 1838-39 was the greatest military defeat in all of British history."
Ouch. But also lame. I might have strongly disagreed with his foreign policy, but I don't doubt that the man read stuff. In fact, I have it on good authority from one of his advisors that he liked to read EVERYTHING. The rest of the book follows a similar tone. The author disparages everyone working in Afghanistan from aid workers to local goverment officials and doesn't make any good arguments to support her distaste.
For a truly good account of life in Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban, read Asne Seierstad's The Bookseller of Kabul.
"Everyone knows that Bush the Lesser doesn't read history or much of anything else and thus may remain too this day the only person in the world who doesn't know that what followed the British invasion of Afghanistan in 1838-39 was the greatest military defeat in all of British history."
Ouch. But also lame. I might have strongly disagreed with his foreign policy, but I don't doubt that the man read stuff. In fact, I have it on good authority from one of his advisors that he liked to read EVERYTHING. The rest of the book follows a similar tone. The author disparages everyone working in Afghanistan from aid workers to local goverment officials and doesn't make any good arguments to support her distaste.
For a truly good account of life in Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban, read Asne Seierstad's The Bookseller of Kabul.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Goodbye, Himalaya!
After two weeks in the mountains, I'm saying goodbye and beginning the journey back to Delhi today. It's not a quick trip: 2 - 3 hours to the train station and then an 8 hour overnight train to Delhi. My last overnight train experience was unpleasant. Every time I woke up (about every five minutes), I opened my eyes to find an army officer staring at me over his machine gun. Cam and I upgraded our tickets this time, so we'll be traveling 2nd Class AC. This means that instead of three bunks stacked on each wall, there are only two bunks. There's also a door that separates the car from the main entrance AND the bunks have sheets and pillows. Oy, luxury!
I'm excited to get back to Delhi, see the Taj Mahal, drink a beer, and diversify my diet (potatoes and dahl have started to get old). However, I'm really sad to leave the Himalayas. Obviously, it's incredibly beautiful here - I feel lucky to have seen the high Himalayas on numerous occasions. In addition to that, it's also incredibly peaceful and quiet, the people are friendly, the air is clean and, truthfully, I just prefer the mountains to other places. I keep scheming up ways to come back, all of which involve tricking Ritchie into coming, as well. 
Next time I come, I'll have Ritchie with me and we'll be prepared to take full advantage. I'm thinking about a safari through Corbett Tiger Reserve, a trek on the Tibetan border, and a week relaxing in the garden at Sonapani (http://www.sonapani.com/). while Chaiwallas bring us tea. But, for now, it's back to the big city and then school and work. The real world is coming for me.
I'm excited to get back to Delhi, see the Taj Mahal, drink a beer, and diversify my diet (potatoes and dahl have started to get old). However, I'm really sad to leave the Himalayas. Obviously, it's incredibly beautiful here - I feel lucky to have seen the high Himalayas on numerous occasions. In addition to that, it's also incredibly peaceful and quiet, the people are friendly, the air is clean and, truthfully, I just prefer the mountains to other places. I keep scheming up ways to come back, all of which involve tricking Ritchie into coming, as well. Next time I come, I'll have Ritchie with me and we'll be prepared to take full advantage. I'm thinking about a safari through Corbett Tiger Reserve, a trek on the Tibetan border, and a week relaxing in the garden at Sonapani (http://www.sonapani.com/). while Chaiwallas bring us tea. But, for now, it's back to the big city and then school and work. The real world is coming for me.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
I hike, but not always by choice.
The villages here are about 2 - 5 kilometers apart. As I don't have a car, my preferred method of transportation is my legs. 2 - 5 kilometers sounds really nice, but I think that this is measured with a ruler from village to village. In actuality, every village is around one million curves as the road follows mountain sides, goes up steep inclines, and down again. Getting lost on a daily basis doesn't help. Sometimes I'll find that I've walked ten minutes in the wrong direction, which usually means that I've either walked too far downhill and have to go back up (sorrow!), or too far up (wasted sorrow!) and have to go back down.
Today, Cam and I headed out of Sitla for a visit at Sonapani (http://www.himalayanvillage.com/) with the famed Ashish and our newly found friends, Nathan and Jen from Seattle. The walk was meant to take 45 minutes - down the hill, past the village shops, through the blue Ashram gate, past the Ashrams, and turn off after the stone path turns into dirt. It took more like 4 hours, as we walked too far on the dirt path. Our hike led us past farm houses and through orchards. At one point, we came across two little boys playing cricket in an isolated field. A little girl in the forest nearby bounced on a branch while she watched a herd of goats mill about the scant underbrush.
We finally made it to Sonapani, just in time for an awesome Kumaoni meal. After hang-out with Ashish, Nathan, and Jen, we began our hike back. Unfortunately, this led straight-up the side of the hill. As Cam and I puffed along, four little boys ran behind with no breathing problems to speak of. I have been humbled by the hills and the little boys who disgrace me with their seeming excellent lung capacity every day, but at least I'll leave here with tight quads.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The project is all wrong! (But I still love it)
Today was my second day in the Himalayas. I don't know if it's the altitude, the sunshine, the hiking to and fro, or the work. It's probably all of the above, but I suspect that the work is weighing most heavily on me. My project partner, Cam, and I spent weeks preparing for our trip here. The goal was to have everything we needed prepared, so that we could hit the ground running. We did background research and prepared survey tools. We arranged meetings with agricultural economists in Delhi. We bought plane tickets.
Yesterday, we spent a large part of the day meeting with the Agricultural Marketing team, who outlined what they wanted us to do: figure out what inputs Chirag could provide to farmers to improve their livelihoods. This is exactly what we had prepared for. Unfortunately, the organization's director had different ideas. During our meeting with him today, he laid out three specific questions that Cam and I were largely unprepared for. We stared wide eyes. Then we ate lunch and tried to talk it out, though inwardly my brain was exploding. This is impossible! We don't have enough time! We don't have the necessary skills!
After sitting on the project for a few hours, I feel better equipped to take it on. Starting tomorrow, we're going to spend three looooooong days in the field, conducting surveys and interviews with farmers and village workers. Then, we'll reassess what we've gathered, decide what else we need, and do it again. As previously mentioned, I'm exhausted.
On the positive side, this project is fun and challenging. I'm not sitting in a computer lab (I am right now, but you know . . .) doing internet research for hours on end, which pleases me greatly. Also, the views! I love waking up to the Himalayas and the smell of pine trees. And, while dahl for breakfast is a bit much for my stomach, every other meal is superb.
So, in the end, I feel very lucky to be here and working on this project, despite the previous wasted hours. And the utter exhaustion.
Yesterday, we spent a large part of the day meeting with the Agricultural Marketing team, who outlined what they wanted us to do: figure out what inputs Chirag could provide to farmers to improve their livelihoods. This is exactly what we had prepared for. Unfortunately, the organization's director had different ideas. During our meeting with him today, he laid out three specific questions that Cam and I were largely unprepared for. We stared wide eyes. Then we ate lunch and tried to talk it out, though inwardly my brain was exploding. This is impossible! We don't have enough time! We don't have the necessary skills!
After sitting on the project for a few hours, I feel better equipped to take it on. Starting tomorrow, we're going to spend three looooooong days in the field, conducting surveys and interviews with farmers and village workers. Then, we'll reassess what we've gathered, decide what else we need, and do it again. As previously mentioned, I'm exhausted.
On the positive side, this project is fun and challenging. I'm not sitting in a computer lab (I am right now, but you know . . .) doing internet research for hours on end, which pleases me greatly. Also, the views! I love waking up to the Himalayas and the smell of pine trees. And, while dahl for breakfast is a bit much for my stomach, every other meal is superb.
So, in the end, I feel very lucky to be here and working on this project, despite the previous wasted hours. And the utter exhaustion.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
India: First Impressions
I arrived in Delhi early yesterday morning and, after eating breakfast fell on my hotel bed and slept for five hours. Afterward, I gathered my courage and went to explore. Delhi is . . . kind of a mess. It's noisy and smoggy and people are shouting and horns are honking and men are trying to pull you into shops and beggars are waving their stumps in your face and it's all incredibly overwhelming. After walking dazedly down the street, a British Indian man stopped me and introduced himself. Mr. Singh was from Birmingham and he was kind enough to show me to the internet cafe and warn me against touts. 
Here I am with monkeys on the street. Not touts, but equally as scary. I'll never forget the time in Malaysia when a monkey almost attacked Ritchie with its gnarly yellow teeth bared. Anyway, after taking this picture, I went home for another nap, ate dinner, then fell asleep again at 11 p.m. I think I was tired.
I met Cam over breakfast this morning and we made our way through the city via auto-rickshaw (enclosed three-wheeled mopeds). We met with Ms. Suhrabi Mittal, author of a paper on inclusive development in Uttarakhand, and found her incredibly warm and helpful. Afterward, we went to Humayun's Tomb (have to fit in the sightseeing!), a 16th century park that inspired the Taj Mahal. I'd post pictures, but I don't have my cord here.
Right now I'm feeling tired, but pleased to be getting the hang of the city. I've been pretty good at haggling with taxi drivers, ignoring touts, and wavings away beggars. I might get fewer points in my next life for that, but as my friend Mr. Singh told me, "If you give it away, you'll have nothing left to live on." That's true, especially as the beggars here are endless.
We catch the night train to Uttarakhand tonight. I'm looking forward to fresh air and mountains, as well as really getting into the project. Updates with pictures to follow.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Pictures from England (captions to follow)
I had a quick trip in England. Ritchie and I visited family, went to a beer festival, visited more family, and slept in. I only had two days, so that was about all we could fit in together. Below are a few pictures from my excursion.
Here we have an old building with a humorous name in Hitchin, where we visited Ritchie's brother, Martin, and sister-in-law, Deborah.
Ritchie, Martin (why the ridiculous hat, Martin?), and me at the beer festival. Apparently, only bearded men with top hats and pipes support real ale. I can't attest to this fact. The one unifying characteristic that I noted was drunkenness.
Beer festival! Apparently "real ales" are dying out. Here, I sample a real ale and show my support through a beer festival t-shirt (circa 2007). The beers were delicious, though some smelled of farts. 
Ritchie, me, and Lorraine (Ritchie's sister-in-law) out for dinner for Ritchie's birthday. We continued our real ale drinking at the pub, which caused me to pass out at 10 p.m. when I went upstairs to put on my pajamas. Oops.
Pat and Diane. Can you see Ritchie in them?
Martin, Tilly, and Liam share a hug. They're so cute when they're smiling!
It was a great, if short trip and I can't wait to go back. I'm already planning for summer or fall of 2009, though Ritchie gave me the side-eye when I mentioned it. Perhaps I'll have to win the lottery first.
Here we have an old building with a humorous name in Hitchin, where we visited Ritchie's brother, Martin, and sister-in-law, Deborah.
Ritchie, Martin (why the ridiculous hat, Martin?), and me at the beer festival. Apparently, only bearded men with top hats and pipes support real ale. I can't attest to this fact. The one unifying characteristic that I noted was drunkenness.
Beer festival! Apparently "real ales" are dying out. Here, I sample a real ale and show my support through a beer festival t-shirt (circa 2007). The beers were delicious, though some smelled of farts. Ritchie, me, and Lorraine (Ritchie's sister-in-law) out for dinner for Ritchie's birthday. We continued our real ale drinking at the pub, which caused me to pass out at 10 p.m. when I went upstairs to put on my pajamas. Oops.
Pat and Diane. Can you see Ritchie in them?
Martin, Tilly, and Liam share a hug. They're so cute when they're smiling!It was a great, if short trip and I can't wait to go back. I'm already planning for summer or fall of 2009, though Ritchie gave me the side-eye when I mentioned it. Perhaps I'll have to win the lottery first.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Laying over in England
Ritchie and I got into England this afternoon and now we're hanging out with the soon-to-be-in-laws. I love visiting England because there are delightful things here (aside from the soon-to-be-in-laws, of course). A few of my favorites: Tetley tea, Scotch eggs, biscuits with more chocolate on it than cookie, and Branston's Pickle. Last time we were here, Ritchie told me that if we lived in the UK I'd get very fat. This is probably true. However, we don't live here, so I will continue to stuff my face with meat pies and other goodies over the course of my short stay.
I'm off for a walk in the park to combat the jet lag. Of course, I want to sleep and sleep and sleepandsleepandsleep, but I'm going to gather my willpower and stay away until at least 9 p.m. tonight.
Update: After writing this post, I gave in to temptation and slept for two hours. Crawling into bed was like being in a sweet, warm embrace of angels (or something equally as pleasant). I stand in the face of all who say that one must stay up all day after arriving and disagree. It was AWESOME! And I slept all night. So there.
I'm off for a walk in the park to combat the jet lag. Of course, I want to sleep and sleep and sleepandsleepandsleep, but I'm going to gather my willpower and stay away until at least 9 p.m. tonight.
Update: After writing this post, I gave in to temptation and slept for two hours. Crawling into bed was like being in a sweet, warm embrace of angels (or something equally as pleasant). I stand in the face of all who say that one must stay up all day after arriving and disagree. It was AWESOME! And I slept all night. So there.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Getting Ready (aka Avoiding Diarrhea)
On Wednesday, I leave for my first trip to India. I'm going to the Central Himalaya for three weeks to help an NGO in Uttarakhand develop a three-year business plan for their Agricultural Marketing initiative. I'm really excited about this opportunity; however, I'm a little apprehensive overall. As usual, I'm a preoccupied with food and intestinal ailments.
While I am fully prepared to eat vegetarian food for three weeks, I am less prepared for the giardhia, amoebic dysentery, and food poisoning that are waiting for me (I can imagine them holding tryouts to see who gets to infect the next foreign host). Food poisoning in Tajikistan was the horrors and I want to avoid another experience like that; so, today I bought all kinds of gear. First, a SteriPen, which supposedly kills anything that will give you diarrhea with UV rays. I like the way that sounds! Next, a carbon filter for my water bottle. This will take out all the visible floating bits (like leaves and poo). I'm feeling a bit more prepared, though I'm still nervous about getting sick. I'll only be there for three weeks and I have a lot of work to do, so I can't waste days laid-up in bed.
Anyway, I'll try to update regularly, as I know everyone who reads this is deeply concerned about my intestinal health. I might even include pictures and stories about other stuff, but we all know what's most important.
Today's Intestinal Health: Excellent
While I am fully prepared to eat vegetarian food for three weeks, I am less prepared for the giardhia, amoebic dysentery, and food poisoning that are waiting for me (I can imagine them holding tryouts to see who gets to infect the next foreign host). Food poisoning in Tajikistan was the horrors and I want to avoid another experience like that; so, today I bought all kinds of gear. First, a SteriPen, which supposedly kills anything that will give you diarrhea with UV rays. I like the way that sounds! Next, a carbon filter for my water bottle. This will take out all the visible floating bits (like leaves and poo). I'm feeling a bit more prepared, though I'm still nervous about getting sick. I'll only be there for three weeks and I have a lot of work to do, so I can't waste days laid-up in bed.
Anyway, I'll try to update regularly, as I know everyone who reads this is deeply concerned about my intestinal health. I might even include pictures and stories about other stuff, but we all know what's most important.
Today's Intestinal Health: Excellent
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Best New Years Wishes from the Embassy of Kazakhstan!
This email has been floating around my office all day and I love it:
Dear Friends,
The Embassy of the Republic of Kazakhstan sends to you our best wishes and most sincere New Year congratulations!
In Oriental tradition, the year 2009 is the year of Ox. The Ox comes second in the twelve year astronomical cycle and, according to a legend, was chosen to be second for his kindness and hard work. The Ox year will bring stability and growth where patience and diligence pays off. 2009 is believed to be a year of harvest – when we reap what we have sown.
Let the New Year be the year of stability and well-being, let the hope and change that followed us throughout 2008 be the guiding star in 2009!
The friendship between Kazakhstan and the United States is on the rise and both countries, even in difficult times, have every right to look in the future with genuine optimism.
Happy New Year!
Dear Friends,
The Embassy of the Republic of Kazakhstan sends to you our best wishes and most sincere New Year congratulations!
In Oriental tradition, the year 2009 is the year of Ox. The Ox comes second in the twelve year astronomical cycle and, according to a legend, was chosen to be second for his kindness and hard work. The Ox year will bring stability and growth where patience and diligence pays off. 2009 is believed to be a year of harvest – when we reap what we have sown.
Let the New Year be the year of stability and well-being, let the hope and change that followed us throughout 2008 be the guiding star in 2009!
The friendship between Kazakhstan and the United States is on the rise and both countries, even in difficult times, have every right to look in the future with genuine optimism.
Happy New Year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)