Mingechevir, Baku and Elton

Buckle up, this is going to be a long one!

We have been in Mingechevir for two weeks now. Everyone was right… once you get to site everything changes. Training was grueling. Training was hot. Training was long. Now we have more freedom! Yay! We still have to answer to a host family, but our host family is awesome!

Our host father, Tahir is a retired sports teacher. He’s 54 years old. Bibixanim is our host mother and we call her Bibi. She’s an art teacher at my school. She’s in her 30s I think. They have a son, Farid who is 11 and is in one of the English classes I might end up teaching. He’s really cool, very sweet, helpful and funny. There used to be a dog, Shaka, but we haven’t seen him for awhile. Tahir said he went hunting, we hope he comes back. He’s an awesome dog – a rarity here! He reminds me of mom and Steve’s dog Cabby, he lays the same way that she does.

Our family also rents a couple rooms to female college students who study here in Mingechevir. There are about 9 of them and it’s really great to see them here! Usually if a woman wants to go to college, she has to live with family members. It’s almost like a dorm here for them, and I think that type of a living situation is really good and fun! They are really nice girls and they giggle a lot. They like to watch Jesse help with things like laundry, cooking and dishes. If one of them notices him working, she gets the rest and they stand around giggling. It’s very cute.

These past two weeks I’ve been going to school 13 and watching various English teachers give their lessons. There are 12 English teachers and I need to pick 2 or 3 to have as my counterparts. I like quite a few of them, so that makes my choice both easy and difficult. It’s easy because at least there are multiple teachers who I feel I could work with, difficult because how do I decide?! I’m supposed to teach 15 hours a week, so I suppose I’ll just pick the teachers, watch them in their classes then choose which classes I want to work with. Wish me luck!

Jesse has spent the past 2 weeks observing different parts of his office. I’m sure he’ll correct me here, but his business gets money from Oxfam and gives it to people who want to open small businesses. This week Jesse has been going to loan officers to visit some of the people who have taken advantage of the business. He’s visited stores, barbers and drank a lot of tea. He really likes the people he works with and is excited to figure out how his skills can best help them.

This past weekend we went to Baku (sin city). There were 34 of the AZ5s there (out of 51) and 15 or 20 AZ4s. It was a lot of fun to catch up with our friends and hear how their first week had been. Everyone is pretty happy with their sites. As always in Baku, we indulged our tastes with a plethora of culinary experiences. Chicken strips, nachos, mu shoo pork, sweet and sour chicken, Big Macs, tuna melts, Americanish pizza. Good stuff!

Jesse had to go back on Sunday night, but I got to stay for a meeting on Monday. Two amazing things happened Sunday night. First of all, I got to stay with Shane and his wife. Shane did Peace Corps in Bulgaria about ten years ago and he met his wife there. Now he’s in Baku doing something with the embassy, so they live in embassy housing. Oh my god. When I walked into his house I felt like I had walked through a vortex into America. It smelled like an American house, it had American furniture, American carpets, two – TWO- refrigerators, a toaster, dishwasher, American children! It was heaven. It gets better. They had a phone that is a free direct line to America with no delay! I wasted no time in calling my parents and Katrina (I would have called everyone, but there were other PCVs waiting and I didn’t have everyone’s number…. Next time I will take everyone’s number!). It was amazing! Amazing!! After I was done on the phone, I lounged on the couch and watched BBC. At one point I thought to myself, "Oh, my gosh! I haven’t forgotten how to do this!" You see, there is no lounging in Azerbaijan.

The second amazing thing was that I saw Elton John in concert. Below is what I wrote about the experience in my journal.

Photos are as follow: 1. Carolyn (with the backpack Katrina made) and friends walking down a Baku street. 2. Our house in Mingechevir. 3. Our kitchen. To answer some questions previously asked, that oven is not used. There is a little electric oven that everyone in AZ has. The stove is gas. So far the gas, electricity and water have been more or less constant. As you can see, this house is a step up from Sumgayit Station. 4. These are the lovely chickens that live right outside our window. They like to wake us up very early and we eat their eggs. 5. Shaka. 6. Part of the Elton John concert extravaganza! 7. Me looking very dirty and happy at the Elton John concert. 7. You can see Elton sitting at the piano if you squint!

Elton John Bakida

I live in Azerbaijani and I went to see Elton John. Not exactly what I expected to do during my first week as a PCV. Although not very common to the PC experience, I’m sure I will remember the experience well.

First of all, buying the tickets was an experience. Unlike with Ticketmaster, we were able to barter the price down to 10 manat. How could I pass that up?

Second, we had to breech multiple polis checkpoints to even enter the stadium. There was a throng of people being blocked by officers when we got there. I don’t know it it’s because I’m reading a novel about the French experience of WWII, but I felt like my companion and I were in a military zone attempting to reach the other side of freedom. We got through the first line of guards by showing our tickets and by, as far as I can tell, being Americans.

We walked 100 hundred feet of no man’s land into a group waiting at a fence. Every now and then the gate would open a foot or two and the crowd would force a few lucky survivors in. The music was starting so I approached an officer and said, "Niya biz gedmirik? Billetlar var!" Somehow he understood and took us to the gate. We were in!

But it didn’t end there. We were herded through a metal detector that went off for everyone (but no one was stopped…). A guard felt my backpack and seemed concerned, "Bu nadir?" I don’t know the word for sunglasses, but got the point across that I had my sunglass case in my bag. We walked to the fourth group of officers waiting at the stairs to the stadium. We were ushered to the next group of officers lining the top of the stadium, and then ushered to better seats than the ones on our tickets.

From across the field, Elton was a small dot of blue satin and sequins. He looked great, and sounded fantastic. For the first half of the concert, the crowd was mellow, a few people dancing in their chairs. But then Elton started "Sacrifice." The Azeris sang every word passionately. The stadium became aglow with everyone’s cell phones and lighters waving over their heads. It was quite beautiful. The same happened during "Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word." I admit it – I am a fan of Elton John. I grew up listening to him and knew all the words of most of the songs he played. It was interesting that those were the songs that the Azeris in their 20s knew. I feel like in America it would be "Tine Dancer" and "Your Song" that would get the crowd response. Nevertheless it was amazing to be surrounded by thousands of people singing retro British pop at the top of their lungs with thick Azeri accents.

Elton and his band played all his biggest hits, those listed above along with "Crocodile Rock," "Candle in the Wind," "Benny and the Jets," "Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me," "Philadelphia Freedom," and "Burn down the Mission." I was especially excited to hear "Daniel." I’ve always loved that song. I think because Daniel is my brother, and he is older than me and he’s going to New Zealand, which I imagine is like Spain.

All in all, good times were had. It was a great cross cultural experience and I learned a lot.

Pomegranates

There are a couple of surefire conversation starters here in Azerbaijan. Azerbaijanis are always interesting to hear about money in America. We get questions like “How much does a house cost in America?,” “How much was your plane ticket to get here?,” “How much do teachers make in America?” It always feels a little weird to tell them that our plane ticket cost $1,400. We always have to quickly explain that WE don’t have that kind of money, Peace Corps paid for it. They love to hear that their house would sell for $100,000 if it were in America. They are astonished that teachers make SO MUCH in America!

One of our favorite things to tell them is that a pomegranate costs about $3 in America and that they’re very trendy. Pomegranate (nar) trees grow here like weeds. We drive through huge orchards on our way from Baku to Mingechevir. Every garden has at least one pomegranate tree growing.

The other night our host dad made chicken in a pomegranate sauce. There is always an open pomegranate on the dinner table to munch on for dessert. You can buy pomegranate juice in the store more easily than you can buy orange juice. And it’s not even pomegranate season yet. They say early October is when they get good… We’ll let you know!

Our New Address

Hi everyone! We have officially moved, so our address needs to be updated. Here it is:

Jesse/Carolyn Williams, PCV
Central Post Office
Samad Vurgun Kuc 20
Mingechevir, AZ
AZ 4500

We really like to get letters, packages, pictures and blog comments, so keep em coming!!!

The World Has 51 New Volunteers

It’s official. We are no longer PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) and now we hold the illustrious title of PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers). We’re really in this crazy club now. On Wednesday, all 51 trainees got dressed in our snazziest clothes, went to a cultural hall and swore in with the Ambassador from the States. Before the ceremony, I went to have lunch at the Gaya (the restaurant pictured in the previous post) with some of my favorite girls here. It was a lot of fun. We got "salads" and "French fries," in quotes for obvious reasons. Bonnie practiced her speech a little bit. She was chosen to present a speech in Azeri and another woman (Tor, who happens to be from Portland) did a speech in English. Anyway, it was fun and we left.

We got to the cultural hall and went inside. Now, I just have to say that when I joined PC, I was picturing being dirty and sloppy for about 2 years. I didn’t feel like this was a place where PCVs should swear in. It was a beautiful building with huge columns in the front. Inside was very ornate. Plush chairs, ceiling moldings, curtains, red carpets. Not only that, all of us soon to be PCVs were very sharp looking. The men were supposed to wear jackets and ties and the women dresses or suits. I even went to the show bazaar to buy some dressy shoes, since I didn’t bring any.

I think this deserves its own paragraph: Our site mate, Nate is one of those guys that funny things just happen to. While we were visiting Mingachevir last month he was sitting in his room when he heard a crash outside his house. He went outside and a car was upside down in front of his gate. The driver climbed out, totally unhurt. Soon the police were there and their solution was to get a bunch of guys together, turn over the car, tie it to another and tow it away. I digress. The day of swearing in, Nate had gotten dressed and went out to his living room. His family decided he wasn’t dressed well enough and proceeded to give him a white double breasted blazer, white leather shoes, a "diamond" ring, pocket handkerchief, and style his hair. They insisted that he kept the whole ensemble.

We all sat down in our seats and the ceremony began. There were at least 6 news cameras filming the whole thing. They played both national anthems and I must admit that I got a little choked up when the Star Spangled Banner was played. People from different ministries spoke. As did our Country Director Zoltan, our training officer Shams and the Ambassador. When she was done, we stood up, raised our right hands and swore in. I have to say, I had been feeling very strange since the night before. I have wanted to do Peace Corps for so long that I couldn’t believe I was swearing in officially. Also, training was so hard that I couldn’t believe that we had made it and were actually going to become VOLUNTEERS. It was very surreal. It still is. I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer. Crazy!

After the ceremony we went down to the "Dove" and did some culturally appropriate celebrating. We popped a bottle of Azerbaijan’s best champagne and spent some good time with the rest of the AZ-5 group (the 5th group of PCVs in Azerbaijan). It was hard saying goodbye that night, because we have become so close over the past couple months. It will be weird not seeing people everyday, not hanging out at the Dove and eating at the Gaya.
And thus ends training and begins service.

Pictures: 1. The ambassador administering the oath to us. 2. Donny, Carolyn and Jesse looking very snazzy. 3. Introducing the one-and-only NATE SPARKS everyone!!! 4. Jesse shaking hands with Zoltan, country director. 5. Jesse’s training group in Tug Zavod from left: Dwight, Bev, Mahira, Jesse, Brian. 6. Bonnie, from Carolyn’s cluster being interviewed on Azeri TV with her host mother. 7. Woo WOOOOO! Champagne for everyone! From left: Bonnie, Kelsey, Carolyn, Jesse. 8. Carolyn, Jen and Anais (just barely) IN the dove. 9. Sally with some random English in Sumgayit. 10. Leaving Sumgayit (most likely for good.)

Haircut

Hi gang – Jesse here. I just wanted to drop a little note about my first Azeri haircut experience. It was very exciting to say the least, let me tell you!

The time had come for me to make that big step, my ears were hidden and my neck was looking a bit stray dog-ish. I decided to go to the barber that we pass nearly every day on our way to our recreational hang-out by the Caspian. Luckily there was no line and I got right in. I sat down, had the normal conversation: where are you from, do you like it here, how do you want your hair cut? I said I would like it like his (which I didn’t, but when you are sitting under a sweltering barber’s cape with a mop on your head you say crazy things!). He began by wetting my hair down with a spray bottle, which really just added to the sweat that was already there.

He then picked up the scissors.

In what can only be described as a real-life Edward Scissorhand’s experience he commenced the cutting. He continually opened and closed the scissors, dipping close to my head, bringing them back to survey, going back and moving on to the next spot. It was absolutely out of the movie.

This continued for about 10 minutes, with chunks and wisps coming off with alternating flicks of the wrist. When he had decided that was sufficient he turned to the electric hedge trimmer. Yes, folks it looked like any other hair trimmer but had the true sound of nothing less than a soviet-era lawn tool. He cleaned up the edges then proceeded to hover over my entire head, picking up any errant hairs. This made me particularly nervous since just the smallest twitch could be disastrous. Alas, he proved himself professional and I proved myself a statue.

From there we went to the straight edge. Now, I have reservations about these in the states, but my general reaction to my fears here seems to consistently be “Hey, they do it, so it can’t kill me, right?” I said nothing, he pulled out a fresh razor blade, dipped it in a bottle of something (I would guess alcohol) and went to work. Again, a true professional, no blood!

Normally this signals the end of the haircut for me, but he asked me if I’d like a wash to go with it and after 30 minutes of sitting in 100+ degree heat under a cape with hair stuck to my face, I couldn’t resist. I moved to a new chair, put my face down in a sink and he shampooed and rinsed with cold water. The strange thing about this, obliviously, is that I thought I was going to drown having my face down. This proved not to be the case, but the shampoo did flood into my face and ears meaning he had to wash my face off and stick his fingers in my ears. Now, I know this may sound weird, but that was delightful!

So that was it. I came out unharmed, feeling much better and looking relatively good. My bangs are about 3 inches long while the rest of my hair is ½ inch, which seems to be the style here, but hey I can’t complain! All of this for 2 manat plus 1 manat for the wash. I only have one thing to say to future Azerbaijan hair-cutees:

Always get the wash.

Pictures: Pretty random this time. 1. Carolyn and I at the one fancy restaurant in Sumgayit. 2. Our friend Sally holding our friend Kelsey at the University in Sumgayit. 3. Dancers at a recent cultural event after we did a beach clean-up. 4. Our friend Jane and us at the “Dove”.