AZZZER-What??

Southern Azerbaijan

2007-05-27T20:04:00.001-04:00

It was REALLY cold

2007-05-27T19:50:00.000-04:00

When I say cold, I mean in your bones, chilled so bad it takes days to warm up again. A good reason for this may be that all day long we were meeting in old school houses and government buildings that had no heat, often times no electricity, no running water - and only on rare occasions, a tiny wood burning stove to heat the whole room. It was cold. But the work was simply fantastic. Amazing. Gratifying. I worked for 3 weeks in the southern-most region of Azerbaijan, near the border with Iran, and traveled to 14 different communities and villages. I listened and spoke with community leaders and various women in these more remote villages about their views on gender issues facing women in Azerbaijan. It was an incredible journey, so the suffering cold and challenging food issues were well worth it. I hope for an opportunity to continue the work began, in some capacity of another, some day in the future.

The Return

2007-02-07T10:16:00.000-05:00

It has been a long time since I updated the blog. It could be that I was unwilling to put a close on my experience in Azerbaijan - and an update would have required some sort of conclusory reflections on my time there...time that I was not ready to say goodbye to. Or it could be that I was just lazy and caught up in the daily goings-on of life. But there is almost too much to say to capture here.

I ended my year in Azerbaijan a touch early (work and funding issues allowed my contract to close as of December 31st). There were numerous celebrations and parties since I last made an entry- a fun Baku-style Thanksgiving dinner, totally ludicrous nights of dancing and debauchery at a local disco, crash bellydancing courses, late nights and difficult goodbyes.

I returned to the States just a few days before Christmas, and spend the first week in a blur of culture shock, Christmas madness, Wisconsin confusion and surreal acclimation back to my former life. Despite a few other interesting opportunities, I decided on a job in New York back at my prior organization (which was kind enough to want me back, so that was nice and cushy for me). A month has passed and, as I had been warned, I have spent a large part of that time feeling a little itchy...

So...it will come as no great shock to many of you who know me when you read that I am leaving again at the end of this month. This time for a short term assignment in Azerbaijan (3 weeks). My job in the U.S. has been generous enough to allow me to do it, and we hope it will be useful and beneficial for the organization abroad and at home for me to spend some time continuing the work on gender issues. I won't go into detail on this public blog as to the nature of the work, but I am excited and interested and intimidated by the challenge of what I will be working on next. And I am thrilled to go back to Azerbaijan for a short while to see the people I miss there and the good friends I've made along the way.

While this was always meant to close out my Azerbaijan adventures, it turns out that it is just the beginning of a new one. A new job, a new city for some of the time I am over there, new challenges, and certainly new hilarious adventures all await me. So stay tuned. Its not over.

Did you ever think it would be?

Above, Beyond and (sometimes) Below the Call of Duty

2006-11-08T07:51:00.000-05:00

I've found that living abroad adds a certain element of surprise to what would normally be relatively mundane daily experiences. Sometimes those surprises are good amusing ones, and sometimes they are gentle reminders not to get too comfortable.

On Saturday I went with a group of friends to a disco for a night of dancing. The dancing was great, the music was good and it was a much needed release. After about an hour and a half of nonstop dance action, I went to the bathroom to try to wipe some of the sweat off my face, since I was drenched. In the bathroom was a little old Azerbaijani woman (babushka) working as a bathroom attendant. This is not an unusual thing in many countries. The lovely little babushka handed me a paper towel and I proceeded to wipe my face- ridding myself of layers of sweat. What I didn't know was that the babushka ALSO took a piece of paper towel for herself...and suddenly, quicker than I could realize what what going on she was up the back of my shirt and was helpfully wiping all the sweat off of my bare back...under my shirt. Well needless to say this was a surprise and a little awkward....but feeling accustomed to stumbling into different cultural norms I sort of went with it and tried to thank her in my poor Azeri Language skills. And then, just when I thought it was over (as I had discarded MY paper towel and she was finished with my back) she hikes up my shirt all the way to my neck and starts drying my entire stomach and chest. This woman barely stood as TALL as my chest...and she was generously taking care of all my sweat removal needs without my even asking. She even motioned me (through skilled pantomime) to lift my bra so she could get at all the sweat that might be hanging out under there as well. Of course I complied, it is culturally insensitive to not listen to your elders. Sadly, after this little woman went, what I would say was. above and beyond the call of duty - I had not one penny to give her as a tip (which presumably was part of her motivation to be so thorough in her duties). So I gave her my thanks only and returned to the dance floor feeling refreshed and ready for another hour of boogying down.

I wish the veterinary doctor I took my cat to today had taken his cue in professional thoroughness from the bathroom attendant. Sadly, I took my male cat to the one cat clinic that exists here (through the support of the international community) for a simple neutering procedure. It was supposed to take five minutes and by tomorrow he would be back to normal. After about twenty minutes I poked my head in the operating room and found the doctor and his wife exploring my cat's abdomen in search of HIS ovaries. It may not surprise those who know me to hear that I got just a touch upset. My male cat was put completely asleep (not what is supposed to happen with a male neutering procedure) and he was cut open and they had been looking for, without any luck, female organs! After the office manager intervened and it was made clear to them that this was indeed a BOY cat, of course everyone was very apologetic and kind...but I was somewhat inconsolable. I guess I feel like one of the small details of sterilization procedure on an animal would be to first determine what sex the animal is. A step that was overlooked in my little koshka's case. Tears all the way home with him (and with a wonderfully hilarious meowing taxi driver...that's right, my cat was passed out by the friendly driver decided that he would meow us all the way home...perhaps to try to cheer me up given my obvious emotional state). And now Koshka is on the bed, hopefully recovering after having not one but TWO procedures today, with his little side all stitched up for no reason other than the fact that, unlike the babushka, this person performed today just a touch BELOW the call of duty.

Prison Tattoos, Stale Alcohol Breath and Long Pinkie Fingernails (on men!)

2006-10-20T05:58:00.000-04:00

I went to KIEV! And yes, that is what my final impressions were when I boarded the plane back to Baku - the men in the Ukraine seem to have an awful lot of prison tattoos on their knuckles; they smell of stale alcohol all of the time (but what can you expect in a culture where people start drinking vodka at 9 a.m. and all day long it is common for people of all social classes and occupations to wander the city drinking beer out of the bottle any time during the day as if it is made of water); and it is mysterious to me why so many of them also have long pinkie fingernails, except that it is pretty gross.

I arrived in Kiev and had the fun of navigating from the airport to my friend's house on my own- fumbling in bad Russian. In another taxi ride I was certain the driver told me to be careful of bad drivers who hike up their prices- and he called them "communist bandits" - which was pretty funny to hear in Russian. The sites in Kiev are interesting and old - but it is COLD IN THE UKRAINE! Women there all look like supermodels, tall and skinny and decked out in high fashion (even in freezing rain). And if you don't know this already - people there are VERY RELIGIOUS. They are Orthodox Christians - so even women in the smallest skirts you have ever seen on the highest heels anyone could barely walk in will cover their heads in a religious place and weep and pray and kiss the religious icons and cross themselves over and over again.

Lankaran - on the border with Iran

2006-10-19T14:00:00.000-04:00

On a recent trip to the southern region of Azerbaijan, Lankaran, on the border of Iran I had the good fortune of checking out the local bazaar. It was an incredibly interesting place, and the cultural and religious issues facing women there are even more intense than other areas of the country. Here are a few photographs of some of the women there, who are rarely seen outside the home after 6 p.m.

Bellydancing!!

2006-10-19T13:50:00.000-04:00

So on this latest trip to Istanbul we decided to go for it and buy ourselves semi- authentic bellydancing outfits at the grand bazaar. Why you may ask? Well to go along with the bellydancing lessons that I (and a group of wonderfully fun friends) have started to take. And let me just say now....it is hard work! We are working muscles that I didn't know I had. But our amazing teacher promises us that soon we will all be Shakira!!

Florence!

2006-10-02T15:02:00.000-04:00

I had the incredible good fortune to be sent to Florence, Italy last week on work-related business. It also happened to coincide perfectly with my birthday. Naturally I took the trip as a welcomed break from life in Baku, and while the work was long and hard, I had two days at the end to simply enjoy the amazing food, beautiful people, sexy language, and mind blowing gelato. It was a perfect way to spend this birthday. Of course the experience wasn't entirely without incident. I did suffer an unfortunate cheese-related-injury (or CRI, as I am calling it). All due to my intense love and devotion to parmesan. My final night in Florence I found a shop and bought a big block of parmesan to take (smuggle) back to Azerbaijan with me. And in my excitement to taste it (it has been so long since I just ate a really good chunk of parmesan cheese!) I tried desperately to break off a piece...but it was too hard, and I was too impatient. I had no knife, so my next poorly judged moved was to use my fingernails. Well, let this serve as a warning to all those who follow after me - good hard parmesan cheese under the fingernails can CAUSE SERIOUS BODILY INJURY. At the moment it was happening I didn't realize it, perhaps because I was focused on the taste of the thing, but once my little feast was over the pain began to set it. I had cheese PACKED under the nails of my forefinger and thumb SO hard that I had actually separated skin from nail. Cringe. Days later and I am still feeling the effect of that CRI.

A better outcome was had when I made the somewhat impulsive decision to get my haircut in Florence. It had been almost a year, and I was getting tired of looking like a hippie...and, right or wrong, I assumed that even a bad haircut in fashionable Italy would be better than most haircuts I would get in Azerbaijan. So upon recommendation of a woman who lives in Florence, I fumbled through making an appointment (in very very poor Italian), and when the time came I went in armed with a photo and the spirit of pantomime. With no common language, I had a hilarious time communicating with all the staff, trying to show what I wanted, trying to compromise with the woman who was doing my cut (and insisting that she needed to take a LOT more off than I wanted) - and in the end I am pretty sure she just did what she wanted, with a team of cute Florentine shampoo girls and stylists all looking on and talking about the crazy foreigner with the ridiculously long hair. And although she took about 5 times more off the length than I wanted, she was right. Her sense of style is much better than mine, and in the end I love the cut. And she even did a quick eyebrow plucking before I left as well. Florence is dreamy.

A Make Believe World

2006-10-02T09:52:00.000-04:00

So here are a few photos from the make believe world that some of us expats create here in Azerbaijan to pass the time. Three different parties are represented here, one is the 70's and 80's Disco party (where I went as Madonna in her "Like A Virgin" era, because I like to make myself laugh and it seemed appropriate here given the cultural emphasis on virginity and my job as the Gender Liaison :); the other two parties were a Murder Mystery party (characters and costumes assigned) and a Pirates of the Caribbean party (it turns out that oddly enough I have a lot of pirate-attire in my wardrobe in general so only a fake sword needed to be added). These theme parties are a lot of fun, and are an excuse for us to get dressed up, wear wigs and laugh a lot - which is a fantastic break from the real world for a night.

Other fun updates to report (other than my night as an unleashed Madonna - where my adolescent spirit rejoiced!) I should mention that this has been a packed month of busy work and travel, both for pleasure and work. In the midst of it all, I have been suffering for more than two weeks with recurrent eye infections that I apparently contracted from a kitten I was fostering (did anyone know that conjunctivitis is one of the few diseases that can be transmitted from animal to human?). So after numerous antibiotic eye drops and a recent visit to the health clinic I am hopeful that this week I will be able to rid myself of it. We'll see. Another new experience for me was learning how to give my cats injections of antibiotics (since my whole household got ill from the little rescue kitten I was fostering)...Injections in the back of the cats' necks. A scary thing but I did and feel a whole lot more capable now.

Nabran

2006-08-23T11:30:00.000-04:00

So I went to a place in Northern Azerbaijan that is considered a summer house area (the dacha is one's summer home in the country). The area was called Nabran, and while I was there for 5 days for work reasons- we had expected it to be a luxurious break from big city Baku life. Of course it WAS a very nice break from the daily grind here, and very interesting to see another part of the country (about 20 minutes from the border with Russia). But is also was VERY VERY hot, had limited air conditioning, we ate all our meals outside in pretty areas in the woods by a stream (read: MOSQUITOS) and because I am a vegetarian I lived largely off of bread, cheese and the sunflower seeds I brought with me (and occasional Pringles that were sold at the on-site shop). The fantastic diet, coupled with perhaps the drinking of some sketchy water, brought on my first go around with fun stomach problems. Those stomach problems lasted through my return to Baku, but eventually I was able to go back to my only somewhat better diet of too-few vegetables and too-little protein. Life is good again.

Soon after my return from Nabran, I went on a short trip to London to visit with a a friend. It was so nice to eat fantastic Indian food and spend time relaxed in absolute luxury and pampering. It is good to have a break and rejuvenate. I don't have any major plans scheduled until October, but you never know what September will have in store for me.

Istanbul - I recommend it!

2006-07-24T07:25:00.000-04:00

I just got back from a beautiful week in Istanbul (followed by a relaxing solo trip to Vienna). I was in Istanbul for work and then my sister joined me for four days of exploring. Beautiful sights in Istanbul include all of the Sultanahmet area, the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofia, The Basilica cisterns, The Grand Bazaar, and so many more. It is a colorful, wonderful and interesting place!

Some highlights of our trip (aside from my unhealthy love of Starbucks and the fact that it became the evening meeting place on nights that we went into Taksim for dancing) include: first and foremost the wonderful and hilarious hamam experience (to be described in detail below), the incredibly polite and soft-spoken heckling on the street (quiet little "Excuse Me"'s and "I have what you want" and "oh heavenly angels" and "is it my turn?" as one walks by...but ever so quiet and soft and almost meek... It does not at all leave one with the feeling of being assaulted, instead it is actually mildly amusing and oddly apologetic), the waiter who was referred to as Al Pacino but looked nothing like him, the silent handy man at the hotel who was called Jay Leno and DID look exactly like him, the frequent use of the phrase "Life is short" to answer any concern about what to do or the consequences of any action (it was the reason given to do anything by some of the Turkish folks we met there), grilled corn on the street, smoking strawberry tobacco out of the waterpipe, dancing on rooftop disco's with work friends to Shakira, the amazing stuffed peppers (green peppers sweet and stuffed with rice and barley and spices!) and the fantastic ultra-thin crepe-like pancakes stuffed with cheese, spinach and potato. I loved Istanbul.

But no visit to Istanbul is complete with a visit to a hamam. The 300 year old hamam (featured in the book "1000 Places to See Before You Die" was the place that my sister and I went (after MUCH cajoling on my part to make it happen...she wasn't that interested in it at the mere description of it :) . The experience is so funny and surreal and amazing! A hamam is a group bathing facility, also known as a Turkish Bath. They were originally built at times and places when water was unreliable in homes but Islam promoted cleanliness...and so people went to public hamams to get clean. They are old and beautiful and go WAY beyond your ordinary steam room and sauna.

We entered the hamam and looked at the range of services to pay for: self-service bath (you wash yourself), scrubbing (done by an employee), massage, shampoo, and so on. I knew that I wanted the full experience of the scrubbing and massage, my sister was not so convinced. We paid (seriously around $20 for an hour of the best services!) and then were brought to the women-only part of the building. We were given a changing room for us to share, that had beds and a mirror in it and was very relaxing, and there we put on a towel and locked our room. We then stumbled in funny wooden shoes (meant for use in the hamam, I suppose for hygiene reasons) into the big beautiful steam room. The room was large and round and had an amazing dome ceiling with holes in it. All around the room were little washing stations with sinks and water flowing and silver pans to fill with water and dump over yourself, and in the center of the room was a slightly raised round marble slab that was large enough for a dozen women or more to lay around the circumference. After some time sitting naked by a washing station wondering what the hell was next, my sister and I were each led by a very large Turkish women (wearing a bathing suit) onto the marble slabs...this would be one of the last times I saw my sister before the whole experience was over, since soon thereafter I was completely covered in suds and soap, being pushed and pulled and scrubbed down. It was so funny but also so incredible the kind of cleaning and exfoliating that was done by this woman with her version of a loofah. I mean no fancy spa salt scrub has ever given me the sort of body polish glow that I had after my afternoon at the hamam. On the marble slab, covered in soapy suds that smell amazing (olive oil, lavender, who knows what it all was but it was great), this woman could turn me over and slide me around with ease it was so slippery! The scrubbing and sloughing was followed by a really good massage (that included her sitting me up, moving me around, pulling my arms into the folks of her very large body and breasts - which she wasn't afraid to leverage to push, pull and scrub me at all). Then I went to the washing station to rinse off all the soap and dirt, and was led to another washing station where I sat down with my back to the woman, who proceeded to shampoo and lather my head and face up with more shampoo and bubbles than I think I have had covering my face since being a baby. It was great and funny and the whole time I was being worked over by this woman I was finding it both incredibly hilarious and a true funny scene if anyone had been watching, but also so pleasant and wonderful and clean and soft! Both my sister and I left the hamam very happy and relaxed. It was the perfect thing to do after an afternoon navigating the Grand Bazaar. And the quality of the service surpassed any spa in New York or Boston that I have been too :) .

Pure Vegetarian

2006-07-04T11:50:00.000-04:00

Recently a friend was leaving Azerbaijan for good, heading back to New York after a year of doing important work here, and we threw him a little going away party. As one of his parting gifts we gave him a traditional Azerbaijani hat, which I am modeling in this photo.

I am still finding myself a little challenged in the food department, particularly when going out with Azerbaijani friends - as one may imagine, almost ALL food revolves around meat here. One Sunday night I was at an Azeri restaurant and we ordered grilled vegetables for me (while meat was aplenty for my friends) and I semi-happily ate my grilled pepper, and had some yummy grilled eggplant skin but left most of the rest of the eggplant on my plate. I gave the other half of the eggplant to one of my friends who kindly pointed out (nearly too late for me!) that the grilled eggplant had been STUFFED WITH SHEEP FAT THE SAME COLOR AS THE INSIDE OF THE EGGPLANT! Needless to say I was more than a little queasy at the thought of what I had accidentally consumed that night.

But this has been a fun week. The excitement over the World Cup games is enormous, and pubs are packed with internationals for games starting at 8 pm and then second games air at midnight - it is easy to get into the spirit of this major worldwide event, despite the U.S.'s tragic loss to Ghana.

The Airport Bazaar

2006-07-01T08:01:00.000-04:00

Today was another adventure to a new bazaar near the airport. It stretches for miles and miles and sells ABSOLUTELY everything you can imagine - carpets, toiletries, kitchen goods, clothing, shoes, bedding, lighting (chandeliers!). It is impossible to see it all in one day and walking through it, as four Americans, we were quite a spectacle. Needless to say, everyone was very nice and very interested in showing us their wares (and once brandishing a camera, everyone wanted to be in the photos).

THE BIRDS!

2006-07-01T07:39:00.000-04:00

I've been trying to find a way to convey this amazing thing that has been happening here recently - at the Maiden's Tower there is a whole school (of hundreds!) of birds that swirl around in a mad frenzy all day every day. Walking to work each day it is as though I am passing through an imaginary set for Alfred Hitchcock's movie "The Birds." They are zooming around in circles around the tower at a rapid pace...it is almost ominous - like a sign of something serious to come! This photo is the closest I have come to being to capture it - and still it doesn't do the scene justice (they are just moving too damn fast to get with the camera!).

Tezza Bazaar - Market for produce, hardware, meat and kitchen implements

2006-06-26T07:52:00.000-04:00

So I went with a friend to the bazaar to explore. I bought some gorgeous peppers and a cheese grater, and for the most part the day was starting off uneventful. I mean sure we had a young boy around 12 or 12 years old following us around for over an hour talking to us in a language we didn't understand. And sure as we walked through the bazaar more than 20 different men whispered "caviar, caviar" as if we were there to buy illegal goods. We weren't. And then, we found an area that had live animals in cages, and while my friend went inside to find out the cost of the parakeets, I bent over to get a closer look at the cute rabbits. That's when a tiny little babushka (old woman with a scarf on her head) smacked me on the back harder than I have been hit in decades! I was so startled I swung around, and that's when she lifted my shirt up to reveal my tattoo on my lower back, then she laughed and laughed with a totally toothless grin and then embraced me in a sweaty strong hug before she disappeared into a small shack of a store. It left me reeling and laughing hysterically. We think she might have spotted the tattoo while I was bending over, thought it was a huge bug and smacked me to smash it, then laughed when she realized what it really was. Whatever happened it was one of those totally funny strange moments when I don't really know what was going on but now have a hilarious memory of her lifting my shirt, laughing so hard and hugging me even harder...of course that major smack on the back was a serious jolt!

Back in Baku

2006-06-25T14:24:00.000-04:00

It has been a wild month of a lot of change and movement! Work has been fantastic but busy. I went to New York for a wonderful week and had a beautiful time there that flew by too fast. I had many sugary coffee beverages from Starbucks and great food and stocked up on American goods before heading back to Baku. I arrived in Baku late late Monday night and our trusty driver was at the airport to pick me up, and I felt a real sense of contentment and excitement to be back as he drove me through the silent dark streets of Baku. It is when I knew that my work here was not done and while it was very hard to leave New York again, I was happy to be back to continue what I started.

I then had my second night in my new apartment in the Old City. I love the Old City, and my apartment is fantastic and full of character. I have my own hot water heater that I have to plug in an hour before I want any hot water...and there are two light switches that I must switch on in order to turn on the motors to get any water pressure at all. But it is beautiful and charming. And I now have cable with over ten English channels, including many movie channels. It is so exciting for me! Of course the world cup is also on and that is a really exciting thing to most of the world...so I watched the U.S. lose to Ghana.

This week has been full of good company and events. There have been parties and events and wonderful people. This week two local attorneys took me to the Philharmonic to see an amazing symphony - an hour and a half of incredible classical music and then an hour and a half of jazz that just blew us away. It was really a great night and the people I have met here have been so generous and giving to me.

That being said, it's also a VERY good thing that I bought those mirrored sunglasses in New York- they come in very handy here. Walking down the street they are the most important accessory a girl could have. They are needed to block out the peering eyes and leering stares. Crucial.

Two more weeks of work before an exciting trip to Istanbul. I can't wait. Life here is one big amazing adventure. Some of it good, some of it challenging, but none of it boring.

Guba, Azerbaijan

2006-06-04T11:05:00.000-04:00

Here are a few photos from my wonderful day trip to a region called Guba. It is in the northern part of Azerbaijan, about 20 minutes from the Russian border. I was guided by two local attorneys that we work with and highlights include: off-roading it in a Mercedes (the status car of choice), drinking tea in the mountains, having lunch in the open air in the woods (all of this served to us of course on fine china by lovely local cayhanas and restaurants), being caught in the road by a massive multi-herd sheep crossing with the infamous four-assed sheep, being visited at lunch by a MASSIVE bright bright blue beetle twice the size of my thumb, walking along mountain streams, having ice cream in a tiny and beautiful all-Jewish town in the north where it is a source of great national pride that people of different religions (Muslim and Jewish) live peacefully side by side, and watching a group of ten fully veiled women on a picnic play volleyball in hijab. It was a truly wonderful weekend.

SUMQUYIT Children's Cemetery

2006-06-02T04:31:00.000-04:00

Weight, Death & Kittens

2006-05-31T07:57:00.000-04:00

So there are all sorts of cultural oddities that surround me. And no offense to the lovely and kind Azerbaijani people, it is some INTERESTING stuff and confusing to a foreigner like me. One of these inexplicable phenomena is the cultural fascination with weight. People are constantly weighing themselves. It is not clear to me why. But on all the big pedestrian walkways, in the large public park and fountain square - every big public place one goes - there are men with big height/weight scales (like those found in doctors' office) right there outside and for a small price they will weigh you. People love to be weighed. Many of the scales have hilariously loud (and to me, utterly incomprehensible) recorded and automated messages that these scales burst out at all passersby - trying to bully us in Russian to get our weight checked I think. It seems that this public weighing is more than just a concern for weight as I tend to think about it (overweight, underweight, etc.) It is more related to health in some way. Maybe people feel healthier when they know their weight.

I was in the huge main post office today, picking up a care package full of kitten necessities and chocolate (much appreciated!) and right there, as I am picking up my package a big older male postal worker climbs on to the huge scale that was clearly meant for weighing packages and checks his weight! Why...I don't know.

Which brings me to fun things that people seem to say once they learn English - little phrases that replay over and over during the course of a single conversation as if on a loop. One of my favorites is "Why? I will tell you..." over and over again....Its the asking of why and then answering it, instead of simply stating one simple word (that they do not always know) "because"...the word "because" could really simplify things....but instead over and over it is "Why? I will tell you..." seriously, by the 5th or 6th time in one conversation, it can lead to the giggles. Another fun one is "Can you imagine?" over and over again....that is a nice one actually.

A not so nice thing, but certainly interesting, is this creepy place that I visited this past weekend - the children's cemetery in an area called Sumqayit. This region was the site for most of the chemical factories in the 1980's and at one time it had the highest infant mortality rate in the world. So it is a strange industrial wasteland of old factories and dumps where people still live. The graveyard is huge - and the tombstones are large with portraits of the deceased on them. The detailed portraits on them are amazing, frequently life size - most are engraved portraits but some are old photographs. This is what makes the children's cemetery extra eerie - those who died over the age of 1 years old have portraits on their tombstones...the younger ones just have stones marking the hundreds of graves of the children who died in the early 1990's. Sadly, the children's cemetery is full... many many children in Sumqayit didn't live past the age of 4 in the 1990's.

Unfortanately I will be moving to a new apartment next week - it seems my landlord isn't as fond of these little sweethearts as I am....and its a deal breaker for me. I mean just look at them!

Two Is Better Than One

2006-05-19T16:01:00.000-04:00

Gozel got a new playmate to keep her busy when I am at work, and to keep her from attacking my ankles and hands when I am home. As you can see, she is quite happy with the new addition to our home here.

The Lesson Is - Wash Your Hands After Touching Pepper Spray and Don't Be Afraid to Trust Just a Little

2006-05-19T14:47:00.000-04:00

A few nights ago I came home a little late after another night out carousing (which in actuality was dinner out with coworkers and then a little quick grocery shopping) and found that the elevator in my apartment building is not working. Now there is a second nicer and larger elevator RIGHT NEXT to the other small broken one, but we are not allowed to use it. The story is that the second large elevator is just for our very very important tenant here (the current President's uncle, and previous President's brother). He lives in a multifloor apartment all around my apartment.

So I come home a few nights ago and the guards motion to me that my elevator is broken...and it becomes clear that I cannot use the second elevator, and instead I am shown to a stairwell. A deep dark cement stairwell that is scary. I proceed up the 6 flights of stairs with not ONE SINGLE LIGHT to guide me. It was dark and creepy - so in addition to carrying my bag and groceries and massive gallons of water, I also had my pepper spray out and my finger on the trigger, safety off. As per my usual routine, I spent the next two hours on the computer, and then my right eye started to itch. And itch. And I rubbed it. And it itched. And then it started to hurt. A lot. And so I went in the bathroom to find out if something was in my eye and what I saw in the mirror scared me! I started to cry and called my boss, then called a coworker (it was midnight at this point) and discussed going to the emergency clinic. My top and bottom eyelids of my right eye had puffed up, swollen as if sting by bees! The swelling was so severe that my right eye was barely visible between the lids and it hurt to blink and tears were flowing. So I did what any 33 year old alone in Azerbaijan after midnight would do - I called my mom. I got on the webcam and she put me on speakerphone and had a nurse come to her computer workstation while I held the webcam up to my swollen face. The nurse did as good of an assessment as she could under the circumstances, and advised me to take allergy medicine, advised me to go to the clinic (which I didn't want to do at that hour unless absolutely necessary), and we ran through the options. If my lips started to swell then I was in bad shape and needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. But after talking to some loved ones and starting to calm down, the allergy medicine started to feel like it was working, my boss kept checking in to make sure I was okay, and I called Ben on the webcam to show him my puffy face and tell him of my scare. My mom then got back on to tell me the nurse had another theory of what it was (instead of a terrible allergic reaction) - she said that the symptoms and the look of my face were consistent with exposure to tear gas or pepper spray. PEPPER SPRAY. While the true reason for my temporary facial attack that left me puffy for a day (and gave me a triple chin directly beneath my right eye when I smiled) may never be known.....it does seem like the likely cause was my own damn pepper spray.

That was 2 days ago.

Last night I got home again late (I go out a lot) and I approached my building and it was the same deal - broken elevator and dark scary stairwell. This time I asked the guard through my expert pantomime skills and the ever-useful Russian word for "Please" if he would walk me up the 6 flights to my apartment in the dark. He was a different guard than the night before and very sweet, and although we couldn't really communicate he got the big industrial flashlight for us and walked me up the whole way. At the top of the stairs he put the number to the security desk in my phone in case I needed help or if I wanted to go out of the building at any time but was too afraid to go downstairs in the dark.

That was last night.

Tonight I got home again after 9 p.m. (cause, well I go out a lot) and again the elevator wasn't working. I asked a third guard if he would walk me up the stairs, and this one brought me onto the forbidden big second elevator! Very exciting. There was just one catch - that elevator only stops at certain floors....so we went to the 9th floor and had to walk DOWN 3 flights to the 6th floor. These 3 floors were the scariest flights of uneven cement steps in complete and total darkness- and this guard had no flashlight with him. But he bravely went ahead of me and took my hand and he literally GUIDED me slowly down these uneven stairs while holding my hand. He also only speaks Russian and Azeri so the whole production was an exercise in trust for me really. Though in the darkest moments of our climb together I was very thankful to have him there, though I had the pepper spray in my hand just in case.

And tonight, I washed my hands afterwards.

2006-05-14T11:18:00.000-04:00

Gobustan, Azerbaijan

Crazy cool mud volcanoes in the middle of nowhere. Gurgling and bubbling away a cold wet mud out of small walkable volcanoes.

2006-05-10T06:07:00.000-04:00

Meet my new girlfriend Gozel (which I am told means "beautiful" in Azeri). She keeps me company and shares my apartment with me - basically she's the boss of me now.

Dead Seals, Frisbee & Justin Timberlake

2006-05-10T05:44:00.000-04:00

On a beach, just north of Baku...where the sand isn't soft, the birds aren't alive, and the water isn't safe for swimming.

My latest adventures in Azerbaijan have led me to spending a Sunday at a beach an hour outside of Baku. The scenery - both en route and once arrived - was a little Thunderdome. And my hopes of avoiding any contact with dead birds while in bird flu territory quickly went out the window when the dog that was with us (belongs to another expat) spent the day with dead duck after dead swan after dead seagull in it's mouth....this is how diseases get out of control. I stopped french kissing the dog after that. There was also the unfortunate sight of the two dead seals near our truck....just dead right there far on shore in differing stages of decomposition.

But here is another expat factoid- these folks are crazy for their Ultimate Frisbee. There is a whole Ultimate Frisbee subculture, with tournaments and regular Frisbee sessions and one might say that there are some expats who are never far from a Frisbee. It should be noted that, like my lack of love for the billiards, I am no Frisbee player.

I am, however, very much a lover of Justin Timberlake - especially when sitting in the backseat of a car barreling through the mean streets of Baku, being driven by a lovely Azerbaijani man who ALSO knows all the words...so together we belted out "Cry Me A River" at about 60 mph as we swerved through the city. It was a bonding moment.

2006-05-01T12:24:00.000-04:00

Flying Carpet Wonders! This fantastic Old City carpet shop is a great place to spend an afternoon.