My bad. I haven't posted any updates on my AZ adventures in a long ass time. The end of the school year and beginning of summer has been crazily busy! I will be filling in the posts that I should've done weeks ago over the next few days. But first, a few highlights of the past two months:
- my first trip to Georgia!
- Son Zeng (Last Bell, which is the last day of school here and the Azerbaijani version of graduation)
- the second annual Zaqatala Summer Art Program (a weeklong arts camp)
- more hiking!
- my first trip to the beach!
- moved to a new place!
... and tons more awesome shiznit!
I am entering the last five months of my time here in Azerbaijan, and I can't help but think about all the things I still want to do here. It's going to be another crazy few months, so my apologies in advance for not continuously updating the blog.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Tbilisi is Awesome
I signed up to take the LSAT exam in Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia, in June. I live in a region of Azerbaijan that is relatively close to Georgia; not including the time spent at border control, it takes about 3 hours to get there by car.
I heard from other PCV's here in Azerbaijan that Tbilisi was the land of milk and honey, were the roads were paved with pork and xacapuri (a cheesy bread dish common on Georgia) and the rivers were flowing with beer and Georgian wine. I took the marshrutka from Zaqatala to Tbilisi and I pretty much instantly fell in love with the city. It's gorgeous. The place is nestled in between hills and is divided by the Kür river (which also flows through Azerbaijan and ends up in the Caspian Sea).
I only spent a few days in Tbilisi, most of which were divided between meeting/hanging out with new people, studying for the LSATs, and then finding the test location to take the friggin test. (In retrospect, I should not have combined my first trip to Tbilisi with taking such an important exam (Distraction FAIL!))
One of the first things I noticed as I was walking around the city was that there was a giant ferris wheel at the top of the hill in the city. I thought it would be similar to the one we have in our Heydar Park in Zaqatala... I thought wrong. It turned out to be just one ride of many in an amusement park that was built on top of the mountain. The ferris wheel had enclosed cabins WITH AIR CONDITIONING from which you could see the entire city below, it was such a wonderful view. I love amusement parks in America (I've always wanted to be a roller coaster tester...those people whose job it is to ride the coasters and then judge their awesomeness). But it wasn't until I was in the Mtatsminda Park that I realized how much I missed amusement parks. Summers in the US for me are filled with trips to Six Flags or to the beach or to a water park...all of which I didn't really know was missing until I went to this park in Tbilisi. I was so in awe of the rides that I didn't even get on any of them, I just walked around the park in shock that it existed. I did get a chance to take a few awesome pictures like this one though:
I only spent 3 days in Tbilisi and I can't wait until I go back. The food is delicious and cheap, the people are friendly, and the culture is really interesting. I had never heard of the city before I came to Azerbaijan and learned more about this part of the world, but I am so glad I did. If anyone reading this blog post is thinking about making a trip to Tbilisi, let me make that decision for you: GO! (And if you do go, make sure to try the lobiani!)
I heard from other PCV's here in Azerbaijan that Tbilisi was the land of milk and honey, were the roads were paved with pork and xacapuri (a cheesy bread dish common on Georgia) and the rivers were flowing with beer and Georgian wine. I took the marshrutka from Zaqatala to Tbilisi and I pretty much instantly fell in love with the city. It's gorgeous. The place is nestled in between hills and is divided by the Kür river (which also flows through Azerbaijan and ends up in the Caspian Sea).
(btdubs this picture was taken from the ferris wheel at the top of the mountain overlooking the city)
I only spent a few days in Tbilisi, most of which were divided between meeting/hanging out with new people, studying for the LSATs, and then finding the test location to take the friggin test. (In retrospect, I should not have combined my first trip to Tbilisi with taking such an important exam (Distraction FAIL!))
One of the first things I noticed as I was walking around the city was that there was a giant ferris wheel at the top of the hill in the city. I thought it would be similar to the one we have in our Heydar Park in Zaqatala... I thought wrong. It turned out to be just one ride of many in an amusement park that was built on top of the mountain. The ferris wheel had enclosed cabins WITH AIR CONDITIONING from which you could see the entire city below, it was such a wonderful view. I love amusement parks in America (I've always wanted to be a roller coaster tester...those people whose job it is to ride the coasters and then judge their awesomeness). But it wasn't until I was in the Mtatsminda Park that I realized how much I missed amusement parks. Summers in the US for me are filled with trips to Six Flags or to the beach or to a water park...all of which I didn't really know was missing until I went to this park in Tbilisi. I was so in awe of the rides that I didn't even get on any of them, I just walked around the park in shock that it existed. I did get a chance to take a few awesome pictures like this one though:
I only spent 3 days in Tbilisi and I can't wait until I go back. The food is delicious and cheap, the people are friendly, and the culture is really interesting. I had never heard of the city before I came to Azerbaijan and learned more about this part of the world, but I am so glad I did. If anyone reading this blog post is thinking about making a trip to Tbilisi, let me make that decision for you: GO! (And if you do go, make sure to try the lobiani!)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Son Zəng
The last day of the school year here in Azerbaijan, May 31st, is called "Son Zəng" or last bell. For everyone not graduating, it is just a day to celebrate the year ending. For those in 11th grade, (schools here go from first to eleventh grades) it is a commencement/graduation ceremony filled with joy and sadness.
It is a time of happiness for the obvious reasons... who doesn't love getting a diploma? Here in Azerbaijan students stay in the same class with the same people for pretty much their entire school careers. This means that Fulano and Fulana from your first grade class are also in your 2nd, 3rd, 4th... and 11th grade classes. Unless you move schools or have some other issue, you're stuck with the same classmates for 11 years. Since the classes are around 15 kids each, this means that students here tend to get really close with their classmates. It wasn't until recently that I began to understand that the sinif yoldaşı relationship is a deep one and not just a superficial "we were in the same algebra class in 5th grade" type deal. So graduating in the 11th grade, especially if you will be leaving your town to go to university, is a big time of change for the students who have formed such close friendships and bonds.
Last year I did not attend any Son Zəng ceremonies because I was traveling in another part of Azerbaijan on May 31st. This year however I made sure to stay in Zaqatala, especially since I knew so many 11th graders who would be graduating. I attended the Russian School's Son Zəng with my friend Könül, and we had a blast.
We got there a bit late but I don't think we missed too much since we were still there for another two hours. The ceremony was held in the backyard of the school, and each graduating class took turns going on the stage and singing songs they dedicated to their teachers and classmates. Then some teachers made some speeches, some students made speeches, some kids got diplomas, everyone started dancing, and finally a little girl in the first grade went around (on the shoulders of an 11th grader) ringing a bell. There were tons of flowers and giant stuffed animals, as well as confetti. I congratulated all the students I knew and took pictures with them so I would remember the day.
Below are two examples of my favorite part of the ceremony: the classes coordinated their outfits so they would all match! Check out these lovely ladies dresses and this boy band next to them:
It is a time of happiness for the obvious reasons... who doesn't love getting a diploma? Here in Azerbaijan students stay in the same class with the same people for pretty much their entire school careers. This means that Fulano and Fulana from your first grade class are also in your 2nd, 3rd, 4th... and 11th grade classes. Unless you move schools or have some other issue, you're stuck with the same classmates for 11 years. Since the classes are around 15 kids each, this means that students here tend to get really close with their classmates. It wasn't until recently that I began to understand that the sinif yoldaşı relationship is a deep one and not just a superficial "we were in the same algebra class in 5th grade" type deal. So graduating in the 11th grade, especially if you will be leaving your town to go to university, is a big time of change for the students who have formed such close friendships and bonds.
Last year I did not attend any Son Zəng ceremonies because I was traveling in another part of Azerbaijan on May 31st. This year however I made sure to stay in Zaqatala, especially since I knew so many 11th graders who would be graduating. I attended the Russian School's Son Zəng with my friend Könül, and we had a blast.
We got there a bit late but I don't think we missed too much since we were still there for another two hours. The ceremony was held in the backyard of the school, and each graduating class took turns going on the stage and singing songs they dedicated to their teachers and classmates. Then some teachers made some speeches, some students made speeches, some kids got diplomas, everyone started dancing, and finally a little girl in the first grade went around (on the shoulders of an 11th grader) ringing a bell. There were tons of flowers and giant stuffed animals, as well as confetti. I congratulated all the students I knew and took pictures with them so I would remember the day. Below are two examples of my favorite part of the ceremony: the classes coordinated their outfits so they would all match! Check out these lovely ladies dresses and this boy band next to them:
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Anecdotal Evidence
A few random things that have happened recently that I wanted to share/remember:
- There is an old man who sells individually wrapped portions of cotton candy. He is usually found sitting in places where lots of people walk by (the big stairs leading to our park, an intersection, etc). The other day I saw him near my street, sitting beneath the shade of a tree, with his cardboard box full of cotton candy in front of him. The box was labeled STERILE SYRINGES (in english). I can't decide if that's a recycling WIN or FAIL...
- I was walking near the post office by an empty plaza, behind an older gentleman who was walking in front of me. I heard quick little footsteps behind me and turned to see a running toddler with the biggest smile on his face. I looked to see where he was running to when he passed me to get to the old man. He grabbed the man's hand and looked up at him with those huge eyes that only kids have and said "Baba!" (Grandfather!). The old man looked down at his grandson, laughed, and picked up the child into his arms.
- I was having a conversation with one of my friends/students about Neruda's Poema 20, "Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche." We read it in English and then had a discussion on love. She shared with me a saying someone had told her once, "Love is forever, but the candidates are always changing." I laughed in agreement. We continued talking until it was time for me to go, when she said "Jessica, let me tell you something, it is something I tell to all my friends: Let yourself to be in love."
- I was coming home after a few days in another town, tired from all the travel, and I hobbled my way off the marshrutka at the stop near my house. As soon as I touched ground, I saw one of my convo club students coming towards me with a huge smile on his face and a bag full of alcha (unripe plums). He gave me the bag and said he remembered that I wanted some fruit (I had mentioned it in a previous convo club), so he gave it to me as a gift and said "Nuş olsun!"
- There is an old man who sells individually wrapped portions of cotton candy. He is usually found sitting in places where lots of people walk by (the big stairs leading to our park, an intersection, etc). The other day I saw him near my street, sitting beneath the shade of a tree, with his cardboard box full of cotton candy in front of him. The box was labeled STERILE SYRINGES (in english). I can't decide if that's a recycling WIN or FAIL...
- I was walking near the post office by an empty plaza, behind an older gentleman who was walking in front of me. I heard quick little footsteps behind me and turned to see a running toddler with the biggest smile on his face. I looked to see where he was running to when he passed me to get to the old man. He grabbed the man's hand and looked up at him with those huge eyes that only kids have and said "Baba!" (Grandfather!). The old man looked down at his grandson, laughed, and picked up the child into his arms.
- I was having a conversation with one of my friends/students about Neruda's Poema 20, "Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche." We read it in English and then had a discussion on love. She shared with me a saying someone had told her once, "Love is forever, but the candidates are always changing." I laughed in agreement. We continued talking until it was time for me to go, when she said "Jessica, let me tell you something, it is something I tell to all my friends: Let yourself to be in love."
- I was coming home after a few days in another town, tired from all the travel, and I hobbled my way off the marshrutka at the stop near my house. As soon as I touched ground, I saw one of my convo club students coming towards me with a huge smile on his face and a bag full of alcha (unripe plums). He gave me the bag and said he remembered that I wanted some fruit (I had mentioned it in a previous convo club), so he gave it to me as a gift and said "Nuş olsun!"
Monday, May 23, 2011
I'm not really a fan of cats. Sorry catlovers. I don't like how they look at me with those evil eyes and sinister gazes. And they have those claws that hurt like a mofo when they try to latch on to you. But I can see the appeal. They're loyal and c'mon, who doesn't think kittens are the cutest thing ever? I mean who can deny this face?
That said, the other day the strangest/scariest/funniest thing happened to me. I live in the basement/ground floor of a house that I share with a host family. It's not really a basement because I have pretty large windows, but my floor is a few feet below ground level. This is important to note, because it means that from the outside, my windows go down to the floor. Since it is kinda basement-y, my place tends to get a little muggy and is usually in need of ventilation, especially once it starts getting warmer out. So I've been leaving one of the upper windows open. EPIC FAIL!
Why was it an epic fail you ask? Well, because the other night I was sleeping (I am a deep sleeper and can stay asleep through anything) and woke up for some reason in the middle of the night. I was a bit cold so I tried to pull the covers over me, except I couldn't because they were unusually heavy. I reached over to check if I was just tangled in the quilt when I felt FUR. FUR!!!!
I let out a small scream and sat up in bed, not really being able to see because it was too dark. I looked next to me, and saw that there was a giant grey cat just lying there! By the way, I DON'T OWN A CAT.
"OH MY GOD," I said to myself out loud. I stood up from the bed and shooed the cat off, and it proceeded to jump off and just sit on the floor staring at me. I then ran towards the cat yelling "GET!" so it would go away. It finally got the message and ran towards the windowsill, jumped 3 feet to climb on the sill, and then another 3 feet to jump out of the small window that was open. I then hurried over and closed the window, and in disbelief and shock went back to my bed and fell asleep again. It was 4AM.
Upon waking in the morning my mind was filled with questions. How the hell did that cat know how to get inside? Had he been in here before? Have I been unknowingly sleeping with an effin cat the entire time I've lived here?? Does this cat just go around jumping into people's houses/beds? If its that easy for a cat to get in and just chill on my bed, have other animals been comin' up in here too? And then the full realization set in: I SLEPT NEXT TO A STRAY CAT, W. T. F. !!
So yeah, that happened. Which means I'm still not that big a fan of cats.
That said, the other day the strangest/scariest/funniest thing happened to me. I live in the basement/ground floor of a house that I share with a host family. It's not really a basement because I have pretty large windows, but my floor is a few feet below ground level. This is important to note, because it means that from the outside, my windows go down to the floor. Since it is kinda basement-y, my place tends to get a little muggy and is usually in need of ventilation, especially once it starts getting warmer out. So I've been leaving one of the upper windows open. EPIC FAIL!
Why was it an epic fail you ask? Well, because the other night I was sleeping (I am a deep sleeper and can stay asleep through anything) and woke up for some reason in the middle of the night. I was a bit cold so I tried to pull the covers over me, except I couldn't because they were unusually heavy. I reached over to check if I was just tangled in the quilt when I felt FUR. FUR!!!!
I let out a small scream and sat up in bed, not really being able to see because it was too dark. I looked next to me, and saw that there was a giant grey cat just lying there! By the way, I DON'T OWN A CAT.
"OH MY GOD," I said to myself out loud. I stood up from the bed and shooed the cat off, and it proceeded to jump off and just sit on the floor staring at me. I then ran towards the cat yelling "GET!" so it would go away. It finally got the message and ran towards the windowsill, jumped 3 feet to climb on the sill, and then another 3 feet to jump out of the small window that was open. I then hurried over and closed the window, and in disbelief and shock went back to my bed and fell asleep again. It was 4AM.
Upon waking in the morning my mind was filled with questions. How the hell did that cat know how to get inside? Had he been in here before? Have I been unknowingly sleeping with an effin cat the entire time I've lived here?? Does this cat just go around jumping into people's houses/beds? If its that easy for a cat to get in and just chill on my bed, have other animals been comin' up in here too? And then the full realization set in: I SLEPT NEXT TO A STRAY CAT, W. T. F. !!
So yeah, that happened. Which means I'm still not that big a fan of cats.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Eurovision 2011
I CALLED IT! I'm about 95% sure that when I first heard Azerbaijan's Eurovision 2011 entry "Running Scared," I told someone that we would win. AND WE DID! WOOOOOO YEAH TAKE THAT OTHER COUNTRIES IN THE EUROVISION CONTEST! In the rare chance that you have no idea what I'm talking about and haven't heard the song, here it is:
You may be asking yourself, 'But Jessica, WTF is Eurovision?' Well, it is a song contest held annually in which participating European countries send their 'best' (usually internationally unknown) song/artists. Each country's selection gets to sing their song on live TV, at which point viewers in all the participating nations must vote for their favorite (citizens cannot vote for their own country). Apparently the contest has launched a few unknowns into stardom, including ABBA, who won in 1974 for Sweden, and Celine Dion, who won in 1988 for Switzerland. If for some reason you want a more in-depth history/description of the contest wikipedia's got you covered.
This year's contest was held last weekend in Germany, and aired in Azerbaijan in the middle of the night because of the time difference. The country that wins the contest each year gets to host the competition the following year. Last year's winner was Germany's Lena who sang "Satellites," hence why the 2011 contest was held in Dusseldorf. Here's last year's winner:
Since Azerbaijan won this year this means that next year's contest will be held in BAKU! I am both excited and angered by this news. Why? Because I'll be leaving in December which means I won't get to be here for all the Eurovision festivities next year. It'd be like living in South Africa for 2+ years and then moving a few months BEFORE the World Cup. It's going to be EPIC! I want to go! So if anyone reading this would like to sponsor me for a return visit to Azerbaijan next May it'd be greatly appreciated... ... ... no? no takers? Oh well I tried....
And on that note I will leave you with one of the best Eurovision songs Azerbaijan has ever submitted:
You may be asking yourself, 'But Jessica, WTF is Eurovision?' Well, it is a song contest held annually in which participating European countries send their 'best' (usually internationally unknown) song/artists. Each country's selection gets to sing their song on live TV, at which point viewers in all the participating nations must vote for their favorite (citizens cannot vote for their own country). Apparently the contest has launched a few unknowns into stardom, including ABBA, who won in 1974 for Sweden, and Celine Dion, who won in 1988 for Switzerland. If for some reason you want a more in-depth history/description of the contest wikipedia's got you covered.
This year's contest was held last weekend in Germany, and aired in Azerbaijan in the middle of the night because of the time difference. The country that wins the contest each year gets to host the competition the following year. Last year's winner was Germany's Lena who sang "Satellites," hence why the 2011 contest was held in Dusseldorf. Here's last year's winner:
Since Azerbaijan won this year this means that next year's contest will be held in BAKU! I am both excited and angered by this news. Why? Because I'll be leaving in December which means I won't get to be here for all the Eurovision festivities next year. It'd be like living in South Africa for 2+ years and then moving a few months BEFORE the World Cup. It's going to be EPIC! I want to go! So if anyone reading this would like to sponsor me for a return visit to Azerbaijan next May it'd be greatly appreciated... ... ... no? no takers? Oh well I tried....
And on that note I will leave you with one of the best Eurovision songs Azerbaijan has ever submitted:
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
It Makes Me ILL
For some reason, I’ve been getting mad sick lately. Well, at least sick more often. Since January I’ve gotten a cold (or something like it) 3 times, and each time it’s pretty much made me bedridden for at least 2 days. So either my immune system sucks, or something is changing here in Zaqatala. I’m going to assume that it can’t be me and blame it on global warming, because that’s clearly the more logical solution.
One of the bright sides of being ill frequently has been that I’ve done two things: 1) caught up on tv show watching (who knew the West Wing was so good?!?) and 2) experimented with soup making. I’ve made noodle soups, lentil soups, and most recently (with the help of my sitemate Jane) a matzoh ball soup! Yeah, you read that correctly, matzoh ball soup! Apparently I had to move 9000 miles away from New York to know what a matzoh ball was.
“But Jessica, where did you get the matzoh?”
Well faithful reader, Jane and I were given matzoh when we stayed in Oğuz during our Easter trip. The host family we stayed with were given matzoh by a friend who brought it from Israel, and I don’t think they liked it too much because they pretty much gave us the entire package! So yeah, we made matzoh ball soup, and it was delicious.
I don’t know what it is about soups that cure colds, maybe its all mental, but luckily its worked on me during the miserable times I’ve been ill this year.
One of the bright sides of being ill frequently has been that I’ve done two things: 1) caught up on tv show watching (who knew the West Wing was so good?!?) and 2) experimented with soup making. I’ve made noodle soups, lentil soups, and most recently (with the help of my sitemate Jane) a matzoh ball soup! Yeah, you read that correctly, matzoh ball soup! Apparently I had to move 9000 miles away from New York to know what a matzoh ball was.
“But Jessica, where did you get the matzoh?”
Well faithful reader, Jane and I were given matzoh when we stayed in Oğuz during our Easter trip. The host family we stayed with were given matzoh by a friend who brought it from Israel, and I don’t think they liked it too much because they pretty much gave us the entire package! So yeah, we made matzoh ball soup, and it was delicious.
I don’t know what it is about soups that cure colds, maybe its all mental, but luckily its worked on me during the miserable times I’ve been ill this year.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Easter in Nic
So last week was Easter, which is not a holiday that is typically observed in Azerbaijan. I got the chance to visit one of the few places in the country that celebrates Easter – the village of Nic in the Qəbələ region. This village is home to the majority of Azerbaijan’s Udi Christian population, the rest of whom (I assume most likely) live in Baku.
On Easter Sunday I traveled with 5 other PCV’s to the main church in Nic, where we were greeted by one of the leaders of the church community who spoke a bit of English as well as Azeri. We walked around the Orthodox church and made our way inside – just in time to listen to (what I assume was) the sermon given by (what I assume was) the priest. I keep saying “what I assume” because I understood about 5% of what was going on – everyone was speaking Udi, a language I didn’t even know existed before coming to the village. 
My lack of understanding aside, it was awesome to be there and experience a whole new kind of Easter, one resembling in no way whatsoever my Easters back in the Heights. After the service everyone went outside and mingled around the church grounds. We met a couple from America who was visiting the village as well which was cool. We were then invited by the leader of the church to sit down to have an Easter meal with the community – an invitation we more than happily accepted. 
Cue guesting experience. The male PCV’s went to sit with the men, and us ladies sat with the ladies. We sat at the end of a long table along with some women we met who were visiting from Baku, as well as some who lived in Nic. We drank tea, talked about why PCV's are in Azerbaijan, ate delicious pastries, and got to try a delicious Udi specialty made with rice and meat (that reminded me of un asopao!). Unfortunately I made the rookie mistake of overloading on bread and pastries in the beginning so I wasn't able to finish my entire plate. 
All in all, a great time… I got to eat good food, meet new people, learn about a different culture, and spend an all around fun Easter Sunday.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Friendo y Comiendo: Issue 05
A few weeks ago I had an idea - to attempt making habichuelas con dulce for Easter. So I called up the 'rents and told them to send me those galleticas that you put on top. These things >>>A week or so after that I called 'em up again and asked if they had sent the cookies. "Ay Jessica a mi se me olvido eso!" So the day after this conversation they went to buy the cookies to send to me, although by this time it was unsure if they would even get to me in time for Easter.
(First, a small digression: habichuelas con dulce, or 'sweet cream of beans' [whoa the english translation is not appetizing at all!] is a Dominican dessert that is traditionally made around Easter time, usually made in big batches to be shared with family, friends and neighbors.)
Anyway so luckily I received the package a few days ago, just in time for me to experiment making this thing. So I called up Mami & Papi again so they could explain how to make it... and between all the laughs (they were laughing at the thought of me making habichuela con dulce) I got the main gist of it. Mami asked if I had batata: No. She asked if I had a blender: not exactly. She asked if I had evaporated milk: Nope. How was I going to make this crap then?? By using the PC motto we learned in our PST Orientation: adaptability, flexibility, and humor. (Well, I don't know if that's the motto at all, PST was a long time ago but I'm pretty sure that was it.)
So back to my attempt. I woke up early and soaked the beans in water. I started cooking when I got back from my field trip with the music school, at around 8pm, at which point I put the beans to soften by boiling it in water with a cinnamon stick and 10 cloves.
About an hour and 45 minutes later (or about 2 Dexter episodes) I decided they were done and took the pot upstairs to my host mom's kitchen. She was going to let me use her food processor, YAY! I put the beans in there and watched as it became a paste. I poured the paste back into the pot with the bean water and went back downstairs to my kitchen, where I proceeded to mash this together. I then strained this to get all the bean skins out, and what was left was a thick cream, to which I added two individually sized Pal Suds (milk containers). I put this on the stove to boil and added 1/2 a teaspoon vanilla, another cinnamon stick, 5 more cloves, some freshly grated nutmeg, 2/3rds cup of coconut milk (I bought coconut milk powder in Baku) and half a cup of sugar. I let this boil for about half an hour, and BOOM! DONE. I filled a bowl with it and grabbed a bag of cookies and took it up to my host mom, who said she would try it in the morning. I then had my first serving of my first habichuela con dulce! Behold:
*They look a lot less red than they should. Why? because I didn't find red kidney beans, I used what looked like pinto beans from the bazar. Also, there's no batata or raisins in there. Basically this is an Azerbaijani version, with ingredients available in this country. Except for the cookies of course. Those are straight from DR. (Well, made in DR but imported by someplace in the Bronx, bought by my family in Pennsylvania and then sent to me through the USPS.)
The final taste verdict: Awesome. It's delicious! I'm so proud of myself. I should start calling myself "GRANO DULCE"! (Anyone from the Heights remember that guy? Grano Dulce? He had a giant pot of habichuela con dulce that he pushed around in a shopping cart around the 170s with some speakers that always blasted "AYYY! YO SOY GRANO DULCE!" I always saw him on St. Nicholas.... No? No one knows what I'm talking about? Alright then movin' on...)
Happy Easter people!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Who Volunteers? Part 2
This is the second installment in a series of blog posts where I talk about who volunteers, why, and what it is like to be a Hispanic PCV.
I have found that people, in general, like and support the idea of volunteerism. After all, altruism is a facet of many of the world's cultures and religions (according to wikipedia of course). But what differentiates those of us who think about it from those of us who put the thought into action and volunteer?
Two things: time and money. Volunteering is a privilege of the middle and upper classes. How many people can afford to work for free? Those with disposable incomes who make enough money to be able to support extra-curricular activities. Actually, I should probably add a third requirement: a lack of commitments. You know who's not joining the Peace Corps? Poor people. Why? Because when you are making near minimum wage, the last thing you're trying to do is work extra hours without getting paid. You know who is joining the Peace Corps? Fresh out of college students who don't have real bills yet and can get their loans deferred by volunteering (*cough*yourstruly*cough*). According to the Peace Corps, 84% of current volunteers are between the ages of 20-29, and 93% are single. I don't know if Peace Corps has statistics on the socio-economic levels of its volunteers, but that would be very interesting to see.
Right before joining the Peace Corps I was living with my cousin in NYC. I suggested to her that she should think about joining the Peace Corps too. This was met with laughter. My suggestion was in jest - because I knew very well that a working class single Dominican mother of 2 young children is probably the least likely person to volunteer. Why? Time, money, commitments...there's just no way. When my cousin isn't working, she's taking care of her kids. And when she's not doing either of those, she's exhausted and basks in the few minutes of the time she has to herself.
The other day I was speaking with my parents and told them they should join the Peace Corps together. Again, laughter. And I quote: "Ay si, ahora mi'mo. Tu tiene que 'ta loca. ¿Y quien va paga' to' lo bile?" WORD.
Disclaimer: Obviously you should know that all this shit comes straight out of my head and by no means am I trying to play off any of my theories as fact. I'm speculating based on my personal experiences and observations...I mean, this is my blog not an academic paper sooooo yea.
I have found that people, in general, like and support the idea of volunteerism. After all, altruism is a facet of many of the world's cultures and religions (according to wikipedia of course). But what differentiates those of us who think about it from those of us who put the thought into action and volunteer?
Two things: time and money. Volunteering is a privilege of the middle and upper classes. How many people can afford to work for free? Those with disposable incomes who make enough money to be able to support extra-curricular activities. Actually, I should probably add a third requirement: a lack of commitments. You know who's not joining the Peace Corps? Poor people. Why? Because when you are making near minimum wage, the last thing you're trying to do is work extra hours without getting paid. You know who is joining the Peace Corps? Fresh out of college students who don't have real bills yet and can get their loans deferred by volunteering (*cough*yourstruly*cough*). According to the Peace Corps, 84% of current volunteers are between the ages of 20-29, and 93% are single. I don't know if Peace Corps has statistics on the socio-economic levels of its volunteers, but that would be very interesting to see.
Right before joining the Peace Corps I was living with my cousin in NYC. I suggested to her that she should think about joining the Peace Corps too. This was met with laughter. My suggestion was in jest - because I knew very well that a working class single Dominican mother of 2 young children is probably the least likely person to volunteer. Why? Time, money, commitments...there's just no way. When my cousin isn't working, she's taking care of her kids. And when she's not doing either of those, she's exhausted and basks in the few minutes of the time she has to herself.
The other day I was speaking with my parents and told them they should join the Peace Corps together. Again, laughter. And I quote: "Ay si, ahora mi'mo. Tu tiene que 'ta loca. ¿Y quien va paga' to' lo bile?" WORD.
Disclaimer: Obviously you should know that all this shit comes straight out of my head and by no means am I trying to play off any of my theories as fact. I'm speculating based on my personal experiences and observations...I mean, this is my blog not an academic paper sooooo yea.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Yaz Geldi, Time for Frisbee
After months of uncomfortably cold and crappy weather, spring has finally begun to rear its head in Zaqatala. While it has been raining on and off for the past few days, last week we got to see a sneak peek as to what spring/summer will bring. The sun was shining, it was warm enough outside to not need a jacket, and people on the street looked happier.
As I've mentioned before, I have a Youth/Game Club where I get together with some local kids and hang out and play games. The week before last a few of the kids suggested we play frisbee, and so this past Friday I made sure to bring one with me, in addition to the pile of other games I usually carry. I recently found a bag of those shape-bracelets in the stack of things I got from the AZ6 PCV's who left last year, so I decided to start the club with a small contest; the winner would get one of the bracelets. I pulled out my book of sudoku and ripped out an easy puzzle for each of the kids, enticing them to finish as fast as they could to win the 'secret' prize.
Even though sudoku is prevalent here in Azerbaijan, I underestimated how long it would take to finish the puzzle. I was hoping there would be a winner after about 15 minutes, so we could spend the rest of the time playing frisbee outside. It took about four times that long. After sitting around for an hour, Könül finally finished and won the bracelet. Some of the kids wanted to keep going so they could finish their puzzle; one boy asked if he could have more so he could do them at home! How cool is that?!? I love sudoku so I was super happy to find that they (well, at least some of them) liked it too!
So anywho afterwards we all went outside and started throwing around the frisbee in a circle. After a few lessons on how to throw it correctly (I barely know how to throw it myself), I organized the group into teams so we could play ultimate frisbee. I've never actually played ultimate frisbee, so most of the rules either came from the kids who had played before or I just made up based on some faint recollections of hearing someone explain it to me.
So I made two goals across the 'field' (we were playing in a driveway/parking lot) and placed the frisbee in the middle, making each team run from their goal to the frisbee to decide possession. (I'm preeeetty sure this isn't how its actually played but then again - who actually cares as long as we're playing something amiright?) I explain that you can't run with the frisbee; if you catch it you must stand in place and throw it to someone else, although you can 'pivot'. We start playing and everyone's getting really into it... when suddenly one of the girls throws the frisbee into the air...... and it lands on top of the roof of the building next to the lot. GAME OVER. We literally must've played for 3 minutes before we lost the frisbee. In fact I spent more time going over my fake ass rules than actually playing the game! It was hilarious. As someone who (as you can probably tell) isn't really that big a fan of ultimate frisbee in the first place, I didn't really care that we lost the frisbee. The girl felt bad however and I assured her that it was okay, it happens to everyone, I can get another frisbee, [insert other comforting comment here] etc.
At the same time that this is all happening, there is a çayxana next to our 'field' where there is a table of men clearly talking about and laughing at us. They seemed to be quite amused with our frisbee playing. When the frisbee landed on the roof, they let out a big "AY DAAAAA!" in unison.
Anyway so with the frisbee gone I went to plan B - the YD staples of Ninja and POW. I tried to introduce Big Booty (the game, not someone's derriere) but they weren't really into it so we stuck with POW instead. After about a half hour, a truck rolls into the parking lot that is now our play area and parks right beside the building where our frisbee landed. The driver gets out, and the dudes that were making fun of us start shouting something at him. When the driver gets back in the truck we realize that the men have convinced him to try to get our frisbee back for us! He backs up the truck to get closer to the building, gets out of the truck and proceeds to climb on top of it and onto the roof where he reaches over for the frisbee and throws it down to us. All the kids start clapping and shouting "ÇOX SAĞ OL!!"
We finish the day throwing the frisbee around in a circle - havin' a good ol' time.
As I've mentioned before, I have a Youth/Game Club where I get together with some local kids and hang out and play games. The week before last a few of the kids suggested we play frisbee, and so this past Friday I made sure to bring one with me, in addition to the pile of other games I usually carry. I recently found a bag of those shape-bracelets in the stack of things I got from the AZ6 PCV's who left last year, so I decided to start the club with a small contest; the winner would get one of the bracelets. I pulled out my book of sudoku and ripped out an easy puzzle for each of the kids, enticing them to finish as fast as they could to win the 'secret' prize.
Even though sudoku is prevalent here in Azerbaijan, I underestimated how long it would take to finish the puzzle. I was hoping there would be a winner after about 15 minutes, so we could spend the rest of the time playing frisbee outside. It took about four times that long. After sitting around for an hour, Könül finally finished and won the bracelet. Some of the kids wanted to keep going so they could finish their puzzle; one boy asked if he could have more so he could do them at home! How cool is that?!? I love sudoku so I was super happy to find that they (well, at least some of them) liked it too!
So anywho afterwards we all went outside and started throwing around the frisbee in a circle. After a few lessons on how to throw it correctly (I barely know how to throw it myself), I organized the group into teams so we could play ultimate frisbee. I've never actually played ultimate frisbee, so most of the rules either came from the kids who had played before or I just made up based on some faint recollections of hearing someone explain it to me.
So I made two goals across the 'field' (we were playing in a driveway/parking lot) and placed the frisbee in the middle, making each team run from their goal to the frisbee to decide possession. (I'm preeeetty sure this isn't how its actually played but then again - who actually cares as long as we're playing something amiright?) I explain that you can't run with the frisbee; if you catch it you must stand in place and throw it to someone else, although you can 'pivot'. We start playing and everyone's getting really into it... when suddenly one of the girls throws the frisbee into the air...... and it lands on top of the roof of the building next to the lot. GAME OVER. We literally must've played for 3 minutes before we lost the frisbee. In fact I spent more time going over my fake ass rules than actually playing the game! It was hilarious. As someone who (as you can probably tell) isn't really that big a fan of ultimate frisbee in the first place, I didn't really care that we lost the frisbee. The girl felt bad however and I assured her that it was okay, it happens to everyone, I can get another frisbee, [insert other comforting comment here] etc.
At the same time that this is all happening, there is a çayxana next to our 'field' where there is a table of men clearly talking about and laughing at us. They seemed to be quite amused with our frisbee playing. When the frisbee landed on the roof, they let out a big "AY DAAAAA!" in unison.
Anyway so with the frisbee gone I went to plan B - the YD staples of Ninja and POW. I tried to introduce Big Booty (the game, not someone's derriere) but they weren't really into it so we stuck with POW instead. After about a half hour, a truck rolls into the parking lot that is now our play area and parks right beside the building where our frisbee landed. The driver gets out, and the dudes that were making fun of us start shouting something at him. When the driver gets back in the truck we realize that the men have convinced him to try to get our frisbee back for us! He backs up the truck to get closer to the building, gets out of the truck and proceeds to climb on top of it and onto the roof where he reaches over for the frisbee and throws it down to us. All the kids start clapping and shouting "ÇOX SAĞ OL!!"
We finish the day throwing the frisbee around in a circle - havin' a good ol' time.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
PARENTAL ADVISORY EXPLICIT TASTE
My favorite store here in Zaqatala is the Karvan Market in the center of town. They have a wide selection of goods as well as a separate section of the store for non-food items such as laundry detergent and TP. They are always getting new shipments, which means that unlike some other stores, you are guaranteed to buy something made relatively recently and not from the 90s.
Every few days or so I make sure to walk down the aisles of the market to see if there are any new items stocked on the shelves. April has been a great month for this! The title of this post refers to a bag of chips called "Tornado" that I found and bought for 70qepik (about 87.5 cents).
I bought the Paprika flavor, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Tornado's were pretty much exactly like Bugles. The best part of these chips were its ridiculous packaging, as shown in these pictures. For real? Parental discretion is advised? Do the chips spit out F-bombs before you bite them?
Other than the wonderful bag, considering that most of the time the chip/snack selection consists of Lays' original or 'baharat' (pepper) flavor or these nasty crouton things, I'd say this is definitely a delicious development in the Zaqatala snack department.
Other fabulous additions to my snack repertoire include Pocky-like chocolate covered sticks, which now come with hazlenuts or coconut sprinkled on as well. I have spent so much money at this market... could it be that because I keep buying these new things that they keep stocking new things? Is that how the law of supply and demand works? My knowledge of economics never surpassed the introductory 101 level so I clearly don't know what I'm talking about. On that note, I'm going to end this post and go eat my newest purchase: peanut-flavored Cheetos.
Every few days or so I make sure to walk down the aisles of the market to see if there are any new items stocked on the shelves. April has been a great month for this! The title of this post refers to a bag of chips called "Tornado" that I found and bought for 70qepik (about 87.5 cents).
I bought the Paprika flavor, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Tornado's were pretty much exactly like Bugles. The best part of these chips were its ridiculous packaging, as shown in these pictures. For real? Parental discretion is advised? Do the chips spit out F-bombs before you bite them?Other than the wonderful bag, considering that most of the time the chip/snack selection consists of Lays' original or 'baharat' (pepper) flavor or these nasty crouton things, I'd say this is definitely a delicious development in the Zaqatala snack department.
Other fabulous additions to my snack repertoire include Pocky-like chocolate covered sticks, which now come with hazlenuts or coconut sprinkled on as well. I have spent so much money at this market... could it be that because I keep buying these new things that they keep stocking new things? Is that how the law of supply and demand works? My knowledge of economics never surpassed the introductory 101 level so I clearly don't know what I'm talking about. On that note, I'm going to end this post and go eat my newest purchase: peanut-flavored Cheetos.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Kukuruku!
One of the activities I got goin' on 'round here is a Youth/Game Club - basically I meet with a group of young people every week and we hang out, play games, talk, all around have a good ol' time. I have amassed a small collections of games in my time here (most from past PCV's), and every week I try to switch it up with what we play. For a while we were pretty much only playing UNO, which got old real quick. UNO sucks. Then I introduced another classic game - Pick Up Sticks... which the group renamed "Terpendin!" (which basically means 'you moved it!'). This has become surprisingly popular, and we now play it at least three times every week.
But on to the title of this post... so a few weeks ago, I was especially tired of the horribleness that is UNO so I made the kids teach us another card game. What they came up with has now become one of my favorite group card games evah! I present to you... KUKURUKU!
Everyone gathers around a table and places a deck of cards in the middle, face down. Starting with someone of your choosing, each player turns over a card from the deck. When a card between 2 - 9 is overturned, nothing happens, and it is the next person's turn.
When a 10 is drawn: every player must shout KUKURUKU!
When a Jack is drawn: every player must grab their nose.
When a Queen is drawn: every player must touch their hand to their heart.
When a King is drawn: every player must make a salute.
When an Ace is drawn: every player must slap the pile of overturned cards.
The last player to do the given action must take all the cards from the overturned pile. The game ends when there are no more cards to overturn. At this point everyone must count how many cards they have collected, and the person with the most cards is the loser. Now the fun part begins! The loser must get up from the table and face away from the group. A leader from the group must point to each person and ask the loser what he/she should do. Basically it's like the loser is blindly choosing dares for people to do (including him/herself), without knowing who is doing what. Once everyone has been assigned a 'dare,' its time to watch everyone do them! Here's an example of some of the things the group has come up with:
- run laps around the building
- do push-ups
- recite a poem
- sing a song in front of everyone
- dance for a minute
- do jumping jacks
We played Kukuruku today... I had to jump on one foot fifteen times, and then I had to do three forward rolls on the hardwood floor. It was awesome! The best part is that we always play this game in a mixed gender setting, and since the dares are random sometimes the boys are the ones that must sing or dance and the girls must do push-ups or run. Since everyone is assigned a dare, it's really inclusive because the 'loser' isn't the only one that has to do a random task; we can all laugh at our common ridiculousness!
But on to the title of this post... so a few weeks ago, I was especially tired of the horribleness that is UNO so I made the kids teach us another card game. What they came up with has now become one of my favorite group card games evah! I present to you... KUKURUKU!
Everyone gathers around a table and places a deck of cards in the middle, face down. Starting with someone of your choosing, each player turns over a card from the deck. When a card between 2 - 9 is overturned, nothing happens, and it is the next person's turn.
When a 10 is drawn: every player must shout KUKURUKU!
When a Jack is drawn: every player must grab their nose.
When a Queen is drawn: every player must touch their hand to their heart.
When a King is drawn: every player must make a salute.
When an Ace is drawn: every player must slap the pile of overturned cards.
The last player to do the given action must take all the cards from the overturned pile. The game ends when there are no more cards to overturn. At this point everyone must count how many cards they have collected, and the person with the most cards is the loser. Now the fun part begins! The loser must get up from the table and face away from the group. A leader from the group must point to each person and ask the loser what he/she should do. Basically it's like the loser is blindly choosing dares for people to do (including him/herself), without knowing who is doing what. Once everyone has been assigned a 'dare,' its time to watch everyone do them! Here's an example of some of the things the group has come up with:
- run laps around the building
- do push-ups
- recite a poem
- sing a song in front of everyone
- dance for a minute
- do jumping jacks
We played Kukuruku today... I had to jump on one foot fifteen times, and then I had to do three forward rolls on the hardwood floor. It was awesome! The best part is that we always play this game in a mixed gender setting, and since the dares are random sometimes the boys are the ones that must sing or dance and the girls must do push-ups or run. Since everyone is assigned a dare, it's really inclusive because the 'loser' isn't the only one that has to do a random task; we can all laugh at our common ridiculousness!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Novruz Bayramı
It's official - Novruz is now my favorite holiday. This festive celebration commemorates the coming of Spring, and in Azerbaijan it is officially observed (workers get those days off). Why is it my favorite holiday? Because it's awesome. Why is it so awesome?
1) Fire!
For four consecutive Tuesdays, you celebrate a different element (Earth, Wind, Fire, Water) and jump over bonfires. A few days after the fourth Tuesday there is an even bigger celebration, with more fires! Fire is awesome. They are warm, they are cool to watch, and what could be more exhilarating than the fear of getting your crotch burned as you soar over the top of giant flames?
2) Papaq Atmaq-ing
On the last Tuesday, it is customary for children to take a hat and go knocking on people's houses, asking for sweets. It's like an Azerbaijani version of trick or treating! I partook in this tradition this year, except instead of a hat I went around with a plastic bag (I asked some friends and they said this was okay, it didn't have to be an actual hat). I went out with Löki and Könül, and we made some random boys we saw on the street take us with them as they went around the neighborhood. We would run up to someone's door, yelling "BAYRAM PAYI! BAYRAM PAYI!," knock on their door really loudly, leave our bag on their doorstep, and then run and hide. At this point my remorse would set in and I would just come out of hiding and say hello to whoever came out to give candy. I never did much trick or treating as a child (it's hard to do that in the Heights, we usually went to our aunt's building or to the local bodegas and instead of awesome candy, would get pennies, candy corn, and those cheap little butterscotch candies), so as a 24 year old trick or treating in Zaqatala, I was having a BLAST!
3) CANDAYYYYYYY!
(Yes, I know I put an extra 'A' in the word candy.) I love sweet things. I love candy, chocolate, cakes, cookies, any/all other kinds of sugary pastries.... I'm surprised I have any teeth left considering how much I love to eat desserts and candy. Two of the main foods of Novruz are şəkərburə and paxlava. The former is a half moon shaped foldover-pocket of dough with a sugary-nut mixture as a filling. (They kind of remind me of tiny, fat pastelitos). Paxlava, according to wikipedia, is 'Central Asian Turkic' in origin, and was very popular in the Ottoman Empire. Unlike the baklava familiar to most Americans, Azerbaijani paxlava is not made with filo dough -- it is a much thicker and heartier pastry. It is basically layers of dough and nuts drenched in honey, and it is DELICIOUS. It is tradition for families to make homemade şəkərburə and paxlava for the holiday, or at least have some in the house. Besides these two incredibly sweet & delicious desserts, there is also all the candy that I scored from people's houses during the papaq atmaqing! Basically I have spent the past two weeks going into and out of sugar comas. It's been wonderful!
4) It's time to PARTY
Here in Zaqatala, the Novruz holiday is like a preview of the awesomeness that will happen in the summer. Many people come to the region to spend a week with family or just spend some vacation time, which means that the town fills up with people walking around the park and the plazas (which is exactly what will happen during the summer). I love when there are a lot of people in Zaqatala, because everyone starts hanging outside, by their houses or in the park. It reminds me of summers in NYC when people would just chill on their stoops and the street. The past two Novruz Bayrams that I have been in Zaqatala there have also been huge festivals sponsored by the local government. The festival was like (what I assume) a County Fair is like in America...there were attractions (a tightrope walker, a model airplane demonstration, wrestling demonstrations, judo performances, traditional dance performances), fair food (tea, kebab, peroshkis, qutab, and other pastries), a lot of picnic tables, and a concert at the end featuring singers from all over Azerbaijan and several dance groups performing. There were tons of people there too, it seemed like the entire region was celebrating. As the sun started setting, more music was performed and youth started forming impromptu dance circles in which they showed off their dancing skills! How cool is that?!?
BEST HOLIDAY EVER!
1) Fire!For four consecutive Tuesdays, you celebrate a different element (Earth, Wind, Fire, Water) and jump over bonfires. A few days after the fourth Tuesday there is an even bigger celebration, with more fires! Fire is awesome. They are warm, they are cool to watch, and what could be more exhilarating than the fear of getting your crotch burned as you soar over the top of giant flames?
2) Papaq Atmaq-ing
On the last Tuesday, it is customary for children to take a hat and go knocking on people's houses, asking for sweets. It's like an Azerbaijani version of trick or treating! I partook in this tradition this year, except instead of a hat I went around with a plastic bag (I asked some friends and they said this was okay, it didn't have to be an actual hat). I went out with Löki and Könül, and we made some random boys we saw on the street take us with them as they went around the neighborhood. We would run up to someone's door, yelling "BAYRAM PAYI! BAYRAM PAYI!," knock on their door really loudly, leave our bag on their doorstep, and then run and hide. At this point my remorse would set in and I would just come out of hiding and say hello to whoever came out to give candy. I never did much trick or treating as a child (it's hard to do that in the Heights, we usually went to our aunt's building or to the local bodegas and instead of awesome candy, would get pennies, candy corn, and those cheap little butterscotch candies), so as a 24 year old trick or treating in Zaqatala, I was having a BLAST!
3) CANDAYYYYYYY!
(Yes, I know I put an extra 'A' in the word candy.) I love sweet things. I love candy, chocolate, cakes, cookies, any/all other kinds of sugary pastries.... I'm surprised I have any teeth left considering how much I love to eat desserts and candy. Two of the main foods of Novruz are şəkərburə and paxlava. The former is a half moon shaped foldover-pocket of dough with a sugary-nut mixture as a filling. (They kind of remind me of tiny, fat pastelitos). Paxlava, according to wikipedia, is 'Central Asian Turkic' in origin, and was very popular in the Ottoman Empire. Unlike the baklava familiar to most Americans, Azerbaijani paxlava is not made with filo dough -- it is a much thicker and heartier pastry. It is basically layers of dough and nuts drenched in honey, and it is DELICIOUS. It is tradition for families to make homemade şəkərburə and paxlava for the holiday, or at least have some in the house. Besides these two incredibly sweet & delicious desserts, there is also all the candy that I scored from people's houses during the papaq atmaqing! Basically I have spent the past two weeks going into and out of sugar comas. It's been wonderful!
4) It's time to PARTY
Here in Zaqatala, the Novruz holiday is like a preview of the awesomeness that will happen in the summer. Many people come to the region to spend a week with family or just spend some vacation time, which means that the town fills up with people walking around the park and the plazas (which is exactly what will happen during the summer). I love when there are a lot of people in Zaqatala, because everyone starts hanging outside, by their houses or in the park. It reminds me of summers in NYC when people would just chill on their stoops and the street. The past two Novruz Bayrams that I have been in Zaqatala there have also been huge festivals sponsored by the local government. The festival was like (what I assume) a County Fair is like in America...there were attractions (a tightrope walker, a model airplane demonstration, wrestling demonstrations, judo performances, traditional dance performances), fair food (tea, kebab, peroshkis, qutab, and other pastries), a lot of picnic tables, and a concert at the end featuring singers from all over Azerbaijan and several dance groups performing. There were tons of people there too, it seemed like the entire region was celebrating. As the sun started setting, more music was performed and youth started forming impromptu dance circles in which they showed off their dancing skills! How cool is that?!?
BEST HOLIDAY EVER!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
How to Go Guesting (Part Two)
(Read the previous post for steps 1 & 2.)
STEP THREE: Show up.
This step seems obvious, but yea... if you tell someone you're going to go visit them, you should probably go visit them. Or at least let them know you have to cancel. Once you have arrived at someone's house, you will probably sit down for çay. This is major talking time right here - if it is someone you have recently met, you will probably go through the usual questions (where are your parents? do you miss for them? are you married? why not? would you like to get married in Azerbaijan? can you teach my son/daughter English? which do you like better America or Azerbaijan? etc...). The guesting experience will become much more enjoyable once you get to know the people you are guesting with and can move on to more meaningful conversations. At this point, if you are only guesting by having some çay, proceed to step 5. If you are there for a meal, go on to step 4.
STEP FOUR: Pace yourself. Binge eating never feels good.
After you have had a few cups of çay, you're probably hungry for some real food. If you are in a casual setting they will usually clear the table, wipe it down, and bring out the bread and dinner. Nuş olsun! Start eating. It's okay if you are the first one or the only one eating, they usually expect you to start as soon as the food is placed before you on the table.
If you are in a more formal setting (aka if there is an array of salads on the table and/or there are actual place settings), you will begin on the first course. Easy there, cowboy. Yes, that mayonnaise salad is delicious, but remember that there is more food coming, and if you eat too much of it now, your stomach will not be happy with you later. Restrict yourself to one or two slices of bread with the salads.
Next come the heartier foods. Typically I've had some kind of dolma at this point, either grape leaf or the 3 baci (eggplant, tomato, pepper), as well as fried potatoes and maybe some kind of meat (fried chicken perhaps). Feel free to continue stuffing your face. You might start to feel like your getting full. Once you feel your body start to tell you that maybe you should stop eating, you should stop eating. Let your stomach chill out for a second, because guess what? There's more food coming YAY! The last thing to come out is usually plov, rice with sauteed onions or chestnuts or beans or chicken or all of these together. If you felt full after the salads, you're probably in pain at this point in the meal. Your host will expect you to eat (or at least taste) everything that is brought out... so if you don't try something, be prepared to explain why not.
Once everyone is done eating, the table will be cleared away to make room for more çay. If you have any room left in your stomach, go ahead and devour whatever dessert has been laid out. If you have absolutely no more room for food, try to take the smallest piece and at least taste it (did you eat too much bread early in the game? Rookie mistake!).
STEP FIVE: Go time.
By this point you've probably engaged in all sorts of conversations, and maybe had a few pleasantly awkward silences. Don't worry about those, they're part of the natural flow of conversations. You're probably looking at your watch and thinking, "whoa I've been here for X hours already? how did that happen?!?" Time to make your exit. Thank your host for everything, and explain that you must go ("I have class early in the morning/I must speak with my parents on Skype/It is late I must sleep"/etc.). If they are really insistent on you staying, partake in another cup of çay. When you are ready to go, stand up and put your coat on (if you brought one)... it'll let 'em know you mean you're not kidding, you are actually leaving. Thank everyone again, shake some hands, give some hugs/kisses, and make your way to the door. If it is late at night and you are a female, they will probably want to escort you home. Accept this. Thank them one more time, and make your way back to your house. You did it, YAY!
Note: If you are a male, guesting may also involve drinking alcohol, which may involve giving toasts, which may mean a completely different guesting experience. Prepare yourself accordingly.
STEP THREE: Show up.
This step seems obvious, but yea... if you tell someone you're going to go visit them, you should probably go visit them. Or at least let them know you have to cancel. Once you have arrived at someone's house, you will probably sit down for çay. This is major talking time right here - if it is someone you have recently met, you will probably go through the usual questions (where are your parents? do you miss for them? are you married? why not? would you like to get married in Azerbaijan? can you teach my son/daughter English? which do you like better America or Azerbaijan? etc...). The guesting experience will become much more enjoyable once you get to know the people you are guesting with and can move on to more meaningful conversations. At this point, if you are only guesting by having some çay, proceed to step 5. If you are there for a meal, go on to step 4.
STEP FOUR: Pace yourself. Binge eating never feels good.
After you have had a few cups of çay, you're probably hungry for some real food. If you are in a casual setting they will usually clear the table, wipe it down, and bring out the bread and dinner. Nuş olsun! Start eating. It's okay if you are the first one or the only one eating, they usually expect you to start as soon as the food is placed before you on the table.
If you are in a more formal setting (aka if there is an array of salads on the table and/or there are actual place settings), you will begin on the first course. Easy there, cowboy. Yes, that mayonnaise salad is delicious, but remember that there is more food coming, and if you eat too much of it now, your stomach will not be happy with you later. Restrict yourself to one or two slices of bread with the salads.
Next come the heartier foods. Typically I've had some kind of dolma at this point, either grape leaf or the 3 baci (eggplant, tomato, pepper), as well as fried potatoes and maybe some kind of meat (fried chicken perhaps). Feel free to continue stuffing your face. You might start to feel like your getting full. Once you feel your body start to tell you that maybe you should stop eating, you should stop eating. Let your stomach chill out for a second, because guess what? There's more food coming YAY! The last thing to come out is usually plov, rice with sauteed onions or chestnuts or beans or chicken or all of these together. If you felt full after the salads, you're probably in pain at this point in the meal. Your host will expect you to eat (or at least taste) everything that is brought out... so if you don't try something, be prepared to explain why not.
Once everyone is done eating, the table will be cleared away to make room for more çay. If you have any room left in your stomach, go ahead and devour whatever dessert has been laid out. If you have absolutely no more room for food, try to take the smallest piece and at least taste it (did you eat too much bread early in the game? Rookie mistake!).
STEP FIVE: Go time.
By this point you've probably engaged in all sorts of conversations, and maybe had a few pleasantly awkward silences. Don't worry about those, they're part of the natural flow of conversations. You're probably looking at your watch and thinking, "whoa I've been here for X hours already? how did that happen?!?" Time to make your exit. Thank your host for everything, and explain that you must go ("I have class early in the morning/I must speak with my parents on Skype/It is late I must sleep"/etc.). If they are really insistent on you staying, partake in another cup of çay. When you are ready to go, stand up and put your coat on (if you brought one)... it'll let 'em know you mean you're not kidding, you are actually leaving. Thank everyone again, shake some hands, give some hugs/kisses, and make your way to the door. If it is late at night and you are a female, they will probably want to escort you home. Accept this. Thank them one more time, and make your way back to your house. You did it, YAY!
Note: If you are a male, guesting may also involve drinking alcohol, which may involve giving toasts, which may mean a completely different guesting experience. Prepare yourself accordingly.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
How to Go Guesting
guest (n.) - a person who spends some time at another person's home in some social activity, as a visit, dinner, or party.
to guest (v.) - the act of going to another person's home in some social activity, as a visit, dinner, or party. Related forms: 'to go guesting'
One of the main ways PCV's get to know their community is by going guesting. Azerbaijani people describe themselves as qonaqperver, or 'hospitable.' This is definitely true of virtually everyone I have met here in Zaqatala. It is not unusual for someone whom you have only met for five minutes to invite you to their home for çay.
The upcoming week will be characterized by a rise in these invitations to go guesting, as we are approaching the holiday of Novruz. This is my FAVORITE holiday in Azerbaijan, it celebrates the coming of spring and you get to jump over bonfires, throw hats at people's front doors to make them give you candy, and everyone makes homemade şəkərburə (not sure how to spell that) and paxlava. (If you want to read more about the Novruz holiday, which has its origins in Zoroastrianism, check out the All-knowing Source for Everything You Ever Wanted to Know.
So in honor of how much I will be stuffing my face at other people's houses over the next week and a half, I have put together a How-To cheat sheet detailing what a successful guesting experience is all about.
STEP ONE: Say yes.
People will want you to come to their house, the offers aren't too hard to come by. The hardest part is actually accepting, because many of these offers will be made to you in a casual conversation in the middle of the street as you're on your way to a convo club or class. Sometimes you just won't be in the mood to go over to someone else's house. Maybe you're having one of those days where you just can't communicate in Azerbaijani. It happens. Whenever you're ready to make the (usually at least an hour long) commitment, Say YES. When you are propositioned to come have tea, say "SURE! Let's go right now!" Or, say "SURE! Right now is not a good time, but I will come by at [some time] later today." If you are postponing the guesting, (and not just doing one of those "sure I'll go" when you have no intention of ever going), make sure to actually set a date and time. You should also ask them for their number, so you can call a few hours ahead of when you will actually be going.
STEP TWO: Bring something.
Whenever you go guesting at someone's house for more than just çay, (a meal perhaps), it is common etiquette to bring a gift to the host. Usually that means some kind of sweet pastry or çay candy from the store. Some of the things I have given include: those delicious wafers they sell by the kilo, those small milk candies, homemade persimmon bread, a 2-liter of Pepsi, a bottle of sparkling cider, and homemade cookies. You don't have to break the bank, the gesture counts more than whatever it is you're bringing. And if it is someone you know well, they probably don't expect you to bring anything at all.
There's more, but this post was getting long so stay tuned for Part 2 of my super incredibly helpful guide to guesting.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Women's Day - 8 Mart
In many countries around the world, including Azerbaijan, March 8th is designated as International Women's Day. According to the information bible known as Wikipedia, "in different regions the focus of the celebrations ranges from general celebration of respect, appreciation and love towards women to a celebration for women's economic, political and social achievements."
In Azerbaijan, it is more of "an occasion for men to express their love for women in a way somewhat similar to a mixture of Mother's Day and St Valentine's Day." This year I attended a Women's Day party in Mingechevir, which was thrown by the GTM organization. GTM, the Gənclər üçün Təhsil Mərkəzi, is also the host organization of one of the Youth Development PCV's in Mingechevir. Her counterpart organized and was the host of the party, at which there was music, dancing, KARAOKE (!), cay, and this delicious cake:
(I ate three slices.)
Women's Day is one of my favorite holidays in Azerbaijan, especially because it celebrates all women, young and old, mothers, daughters, wives, everyone who is a female gets to be celebrated! I even got a sweet text from my host brother saying "Happy Holiday Sister!". Why isn't this a celebrated holiday in America??
In Azerbaijan, it is more of "an occasion for men to express their love for women in a way somewhat similar to a mixture of Mother's Day and St Valentine's Day." This year I attended a Women's Day party in Mingechevir, which was thrown by the GTM organization. GTM, the Gənclər üçün Təhsil Mərkəzi, is also the host organization of one of the Youth Development PCV's in Mingechevir. Her counterpart organized and was the host of the party, at which there was music, dancing, KARAOKE (!), cay, and this delicious cake:
(I ate three slices.)
Women's Day is one of my favorite holidays in Azerbaijan, especially because it celebrates all women, young and old, mothers, daughters, wives, everyone who is a female gets to be celebrated! I even got a sweet text from my host brother saying "Happy Holiday Sister!". Why isn't this a celebrated holiday in America??
Friday, March 11, 2011
Things I've Found in AZ: Chickenheads!
If you read that title and thought of the Urban Dictionary definition of 'chickenhead', my apologies for the misdirection. I'm referring to actual chicken heads, as in the skulls of poultry. Let me get to the point of this post before you start thinking I'm insane...
I was walking down the street the other day with my sitey Löki, when I noticed something on the ground:
Obviously the first thing to run through my head was "Uhm wait, was that what I think it was?" Yes. Yes it was. I pointed it out to Löki and had to take a picture of the outrageousness of the situation.
So many questions! Why is there a chicken head in the middle of a sidewalk, not even near a garbage area? Was someone too pressed for time and was forced to walk and decapitate a chicken at the same time? Where was the body? Why did they just leave the chicken head there? Whoever owned the rest of the chicken, did they wonder what happened to the head when they got home and realized it was gone? How long had that chicken head been there, just hangin' out on the street? And most importantly, why did the chicken cross the road?
I was walking down the street the other day with my sitey Löki, when I noticed something on the ground:
Obviously the first thing to run through my head was "Uhm wait, was that what I think it was?" Yes. Yes it was. I pointed it out to Löki and had to take a picture of the outrageousness of the situation.
So many questions! Why is there a chicken head in the middle of a sidewalk, not even near a garbage area? Was someone too pressed for time and was forced to walk and decapitate a chicken at the same time? Where was the body? Why did they just leave the chicken head there? Whoever owned the rest of the chicken, did they wonder what happened to the head when they got home and realized it was gone? How long had that chicken head been there, just hangin' out on the street? And most importantly, why did the chicken cross the road?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
50 Years of Peace Corps
Today, March 1, 2011, marks the 50th anniversary of the creation of the Peace Corps (by an executive order issued by President John F. Kennedy). As I have already mentioned, I am currently a Youth Development PCV in Azerbaijan, where there have been Peace Corps Volunteers since 2003.
Okay so if you read the previous post (or you just know me) then you know my parents are Dominican immigrants. My father (who will be referred to as Papi from here on) was born in the 1950's in a very small village in DR. When I was applying to Peace Corps no one in my family really know what the H PC was, except for Papi because he was familiar with el Cuerpo de Paz (Peace Corps in Spanish). I asked him how he knew the organization, and he briefly mentioned that there was a volunteer in his village when he was growing up. I didn't really question him further at the time.
Fast forward about two years. There has been a lot of talk lately about the Peace Corps because of its anniversary, with many people retelling stories of their service and the communities and people they met and worked with. All this reflecting got me thinking of that conversation with Papi, and made me want to find out the story behind it. And so I got on my Gchat (free phone calls to the US and Canada!) and called up the old abode. The following is a (very loosely) translated version of his Peace Corps story (I left a few things in Spanish, deal with it!):
A lot of current PCV's have parents or family members that were Volunteers in the early days of Peace Corps -- I have the reverse. Papi and other members of my family benefited from having Peace Corps Volunteers in their poor, rural community in DR, and now almost 50 years later I get to pay it forward... in Azerbaijan. Who knows, maybe in another 40 years there will be a young Azerbaijani-American in the Peace Corps blogging about how their parents knew a Jessica! Peace Corps isn't just about the transfer of technical skills from Volunteers to members of their communities -- it's about forming connections with people, creating memories, however small, that continue to enrich and inform our lives as citizens of the world. Hopefully Peace Corps will continue to celebrate many more anniversaries.
Happy 50th Birthday Peace Corps!
Okay so if you read the previous post (or you just know me) then you know my parents are Dominican immigrants. My father (who will be referred to as Papi from here on) was born in the 1950's in a very small village in DR. When I was applying to Peace Corps no one in my family really know what the H PC was, except for Papi because he was familiar with el Cuerpo de Paz (Peace Corps in Spanish). I asked him how he knew the organization, and he briefly mentioned that there was a volunteer in his village when he was growing up. I didn't really question him further at the time.
Fast forward about two years. There has been a lot of talk lately about the Peace Corps because of its anniversary, with many people retelling stories of their service and the communities and people they met and worked with. All this reflecting got me thinking of that conversation with Papi, and made me want to find out the story behind it. And so I got on my Gchat (free phone calls to the US and Canada!) and called up the old abode. The following is a (very loosely) translated version of his Peace Corps story (I left a few things in Spanish, deal with it!):
It was in the 70's, I was in the 7th grade. It was an American from Nebraska, named "Hall," I don't know how to spell his name. He seemed young, I think maybe he was between 35 and 40 years old, but he could have been younger, tu sabe como lo gringo envejecen ma' rapido. He was in the town of Padre Las Casas, stayed there for about two years I think, living with one of the Segura's. I remember that he stayed for two years because he even started a Boy Scout troop in the town. He got so many kids to join, Fernando, Fellín, most of the boys were in it. I wasn't in it, because it was only boys from the town and I was in Los Indios [which is a tiny village on the outskirts of Padre Las Casas]. Either way, it wasn't in the era of my youth, I was in 7th grade and the other boys were older. He also had a cinema, and they would show movies there, some Mexican movies in Spanish. Hall spoke Spanish. I think of all the people they sent there, Hall was the one that worked the most, he was a good person, very sympathetic.
One time, I think it was in the 60's, they sent 2 viejitos, maybe it was '67 or '68, they were married. Roma and Lutero were their names. They formed a group for housewives, and did other things like that. And another time too there were two volunteers, one named David and another whose name I can't remember. Those two did many things too. I couldn't participate because I was too young, but [your cousin] Urbano, [your uncles] Máximo and William took part, in the 60's. David taught them to do arts and crafts, and they made so many things. I remember that Máximo made a fish out of a cow's horn in one of the arts classes. It was so beautiful, and they exhibited all of the works everyone made. The thing is that over there [in DR] people don't know how to appreciate things, they don't save anything... that would've been something wonderful to still have.
I don't know if they have sent more people after David. I think Hall is probably still alive, he seemed so young. I think them being in Padre Las Casas was very good. They helped the youth a lot, showed them so many things, so many ideas they didn't know before. All of these things have great value, they help in the development of a community.
A lot of current PCV's have parents or family members that were Volunteers in the early days of Peace Corps -- I have the reverse. Papi and other members of my family benefited from having Peace Corps Volunteers in their poor, rural community in DR, and now almost 50 years later I get to pay it forward... in Azerbaijan. Who knows, maybe in another 40 years there will be a young Azerbaijani-American in the Peace Corps blogging about how their parents knew a Jessica! Peace Corps isn't just about the transfer of technical skills from Volunteers to members of their communities -- it's about forming connections with people, creating memories, however small, that continue to enrich and inform our lives as citizens of the world. Hopefully Peace Corps will continue to celebrate many more anniversaries.
Happy 50th Birthday Peace Corps!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Morisoñando
Today, February 27, marks the 167th anniversary of the declaration of independence of the Dominican Republic from Haiti. It is a very important date in Dominican history, as this is when the three founding fathers of the DR, led by Juan Pablo Duarte, sought to release their country from all foreign intervention (HA!). Jessica's History Lesson of the Day ends here but if you want to keep reading about the Dominican Republic and its history just go here.
As you may know, I am Dominican. I was born and raised in New York City (Washington Heights - aka American Santo Domingo) to Dominican parents who met and were married in the US. They migrated to NYC separately, (my mother with my grandfather and my father with his cousin) and then met through common workmates. They worked pretty much as soon as they got to this country so never had time to take any English classes, and so I grew up speaking Spanish in my home and with my family.
But why am I bringing this up? Because for the past year and a half I have not eaten any platanos. Because I had a dream last night in which I was guesting at an Azeri friends' house, and on the television was a woman speaking in Azeri and Spanish, and she was talking about DR. And in the dream I thought, "wow this woman sucks." I don't remember what she was talking about, but I remember thinking that she was horrible. And then when the show finished, they mentioned that she was a television host from DR who had come to be a special guest on the show for two weeks. And the first thing I thought when I heard this in my dream was "Oh my God YES! That means I'm not the only Dominican who has ever set foot in Azerbaijan!!"
And then my dream suddenly changed (because that's what dreams do) and I was standing at one of the stores here in Zaqatala that I like to frequent, and I was looking through some items on one of the shelves and I noticed a large can that said something in Spanish. It said "Lobia Guisada con Longaniza," which was weird because 'lobya' is Azerbaijani for beans, and in spanish beans are "habichuelas". When I realized what I was seeing, aka a can of beans made Dominican-style with pieces of PORK in it, I got mad excited and bought the can immediately.
From this dream I can infer a few things:
1) I am actually vain enough to think of myself as the first Dominican to come to Azerbaijan.
2) I dream of Dominican foods being available in my local Zaqatala stores.
3) I apparently like beans so much that I dream about them.
4) 18 months is truly too long to go without eating platanos.
As you may know, I am Dominican. I was born and raised in New York City (Washington Heights - aka American Santo Domingo) to Dominican parents who met and were married in the US. They migrated to NYC separately, (my mother with my grandfather and my father with his cousin) and then met through common workmates. They worked pretty much as soon as they got to this country so never had time to take any English classes, and so I grew up speaking Spanish in my home and with my family.
But why am I bringing this up? Because for the past year and a half I have not eaten any platanos. Because I had a dream last night in which I was guesting at an Azeri friends' house, and on the television was a woman speaking in Azeri and Spanish, and she was talking about DR. And in the dream I thought, "wow this woman sucks." I don't remember what she was talking about, but I remember thinking that she was horrible. And then when the show finished, they mentioned that she was a television host from DR who had come to be a special guest on the show for two weeks. And the first thing I thought when I heard this in my dream was "Oh my God YES! That means I'm not the only Dominican who has ever set foot in Azerbaijan!!"
And then my dream suddenly changed (because that's what dreams do) and I was standing at one of the stores here in Zaqatala that I like to frequent, and I was looking through some items on one of the shelves and I noticed a large can that said something in Spanish. It said "Lobia Guisada con Longaniza," which was weird because 'lobya' is Azerbaijani for beans, and in spanish beans are "habichuelas". When I realized what I was seeing, aka a can of beans made Dominican-style with pieces of PORK in it, I got mad excited and bought the can immediately.
From this dream I can infer a few things:
1) I am actually vain enough to think of myself as the first Dominican to come to Azerbaijan.
2) I dream of Dominican foods being available in my local Zaqatala stores.
3) I apparently like beans so much that I dream about them.
4) 18 months is truly too long to go without eating platanos.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Marshrutka
Azerbaijan is a country with a pretty extensive public transportation system. You can get from one end of the country to the other in about a day, hopping off and on different buses. For long distances from Baku (~7 hours or more), these buses are very clean, modern Coaches with heating/air conditioning and usually an attendant who gives everyone çay and candy. For all other distances/routes, there exists the MARSHRUTKA. Behold this lovely automobile:
Within cities and regional centers, marshrutkas take routes usually covering the entire town, and charging 20 qepik (about 25 cents) regardless of where you get on/off. On these rides in addition to the seating (usually ~16) there is standing room. Between cities in the country marshrutkas charge between 1-1.5 Manat per hour on the road. On these buses there will usually not be too many people standing, unless it is a holiday or some other occasion where lots of people are traveling.
Being a typical New Yorker who doesn't know how to drive, I am a huge fan of public transportation. I really like the marshrutka system here. If Greyhound was half as thorough as the marshrutkas in Azerbaijan, people would probably still use buses in America. Before I sound like too much of a fanatic, let me lay down some Pros and Cons of the marshrutka (because all us PCV's know very well that there are MANY CONS to this form of transportation).
All in all, I still kinda wish we had marshrutkas in America. (Some places kinda do: those dollar vans in Brooklyn, those 'dominican greyhound' vans that go from NYC to Lawrence, MA or Reading, PA)
Within cities and regional centers, marshrutkas take routes usually covering the entire town, and charging 20 qepik (about 25 cents) regardless of where you get on/off. On these rides in addition to the seating (usually ~16) there is standing room. Between cities in the country marshrutkas charge between 1-1.5 Manat per hour on the road. On these buses there will usually not be too many people standing, unless it is a holiday or some other occasion where lots of people are traveling.
Being a typical New Yorker who doesn't know how to drive, I am a huge fan of public transportation. I really like the marshrutka system here. If Greyhound was half as thorough as the marshrutkas in Azerbaijan, people would probably still use buses in America. Before I sound like too much of a fanatic, let me lay down some Pros and Cons of the marshrutka (because all us PCV's know very well that there are MANY CONS to this form of transportation).
PROS:
- They go pretty much everywhere: cities, towns, small villages
- If you are on the road somewhere along the route, they will pick you up if you flag them down.
- No tickets needed. Just show up and sit down (or stand up if its full)!
- There are no limits/rules as to what you can bring with you on a marshrutka (although if its taking up a seat you will probably have to pay an extra fare)
- All the drivers have phone numbers, so you can call and make a reservation, or call and tell him where you will be standing so he can pick you up, or call to tell him that you left your iPod on his bus and could he please get it for you...
- Most (read:ALL) of these vehicles are jerry-rigged to have more seats, to have bars to hold on to if your standing, to open only the front door, to have a ridiculously loud sound system, etc.
CONS:
- They stop running at around 6p or sundown, whichever comes sooner
- Cramped. I'm 5'4, and most times there is not enough legroom for me. I feel sorry for everyone taller than me (aka all other PCV's here).
- There are no limits/rules as to what you can bring with you on a marshrutka. Which means that the xanim next to you can bring a box full of live chickens and that old man in the back corner can bring his goat. These animals do not have pleasant smells.
- Xanim's trump everyone else (including the driver). If its 110 degrees in that marsh and everyone is sweating their asses off, but that lady next to you fears that the wind that will come through an open window will get her 'sick', guess who wins?
- The vehicles are jerry-rigged. It is very likely that at some point, you will be in a marshrutka that breaks down. Deal with it. (Luckily for the passengers, most marshrutka drivers are like Azerbaijani versions of MacGuyver and can fix anything with pretty much any kind of material.)
- If they need gas, they will stop for gas. If they want to buy some tendir bread from that stand, they will stop and buy that bread. They stop on their own whim.
All in all, I still kinda wish we had marshrutkas in America. (Some places kinda do: those dollar vans in Brooklyn, those 'dominican greyhound' vans that go from NYC to Lawrence, MA or Reading, PA)
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Who Volunteers? Part 1
I am starting a new series of blog posts in which I will be discussing who volunteers, why, and what it is like to serve as a Hispanic PCV.
I am one of about 120 Peace Corps Volunteers here in Azerbaijan. It is quite an eclectic group of people, from all parts of the US, spanning all ages, with all sorts of life experiences. There is one commonality however that most of those 120 share: they're all white people. Yep, who would've known Peace Corps had maaaaad white folk?
According to the official Peace Corps website, "the agency has always reflected the diversity of America.... Peace Corps Volunteers reflect the rich tapestry of our country." America's a rug, and I'm one of the brown stitches! YAY! According to U.S. Census data, (which I got here), here is the racial/ethnic breakdown of the US population (as of 2009):
(Tthe percentages may not add up to 100, because Hispanic is considered an ethnicity, not a race, and therefore technically everyone who is counted as Hispanic is also counted as one or more of the other races.)
So if the Peace Corps 'tapestry' completely 'reflects' the American one, it would make sense that those same percentages hold true amongst Peace Corps Volunteers, right? The following stats were taken from the 2010 All Volunteer Survey (percents may total to more than 100% since Volunteers were asked to "Mark all that apply"):
Notice any differences between the two sets of statistics? Hint: look at the Black/African American and the Hispanic categories. African Americans and Hispanics join the Peace Corps with much less frequency than their White or Asian American counterparts. Why is that? Is this something that is prevalent only within the Peace Corps agency, or is it more general? Is volunteering primarily something that white people do, and not minorities?
I am one of about 120 Peace Corps Volunteers here in Azerbaijan. It is quite an eclectic group of people, from all parts of the US, spanning all ages, with all sorts of life experiences. There is one commonality however that most of those 120 share: they're all white people. Yep, who would've known Peace Corps had maaaaad white folk?
According to the official Peace Corps website, "the agency has always reflected the diversity of America.... Peace Corps Volunteers reflect the rich tapestry of our country." America's a rug, and I'm one of the brown stitches! YAY! According to U.S. Census data, (which I got here), here is the racial/ethnic breakdown of the US population (as of 2009):
White 79.6%
Black 12.9%
Asian 4.6%
American Indian and Alaska Native 1.0%
Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander 0.2%
Two or more races 1.7%
Hispanic (of any race) 15.8%
Non-Hispanic White 65.1%
(Tthe percentages may not add up to 100, because Hispanic is considered an ethnicity, not a race, and therefore technically everyone who is counted as Hispanic is also counted as one or more of the other races.)
So if the Peace Corps 'tapestry' completely 'reflects' the American one, it would make sense that those same percentages hold true amongst Peace Corps Volunteers, right? The following stats were taken from the 2010 All Volunteer Survey (percents may total to more than 100% since Volunteers were asked to "Mark all that apply"):
Q: Are you Hispanic/Latino?
6% Yes; Hispanic/Latino, (Of Cuban, Mexican, Puerto Rican, etc)
94% No; Not Hispanic/Latino
Q: What is your race? Mark as many as apply to indicate what you consider yourself to be.
82% White
6% Prefer Not to Answer
6% Asian American
5% Other
4% Black or African American
1% American Indian or Alaskan Native
1% Native Hawaiian or Other Pacific Islander
Notice any differences between the two sets of statistics? Hint: look at the Black/African American and the Hispanic categories. African Americans and Hispanics join the Peace Corps with much less frequency than their White or Asian American counterparts. Why is that? Is this something that is prevalent only within the Peace Corps agency, or is it more general? Is volunteering primarily something that white people do, and not minorities?
Monday, February 14, 2011
Peace Corps + the Daily Show = AWESOMENESS!
I love the Daily Show. Jon Stewart is hilarious, and it's probably my biggest (only?) source of news when I'm at home. My sitemate Löki, who is a bigger Daily Show aficionado than I, has recently started a Twitter campaign to get the Director of the Peace Corps, Aaron Williams, to be a guest on the Daily Show to honor this year's 50th anniversary of the PC.
Wouldn't this be awesome??? (YES!) FYI: here's some basic info about PC (from Wikipedia of course):
PC's current director, Aaron S. Williams, served as a volunteer in the Dominican Republic (YEAAAAH!!) from 1967-70. He was sworn in as director in 2009. To read more about this (awesome) dude go here.
So here's what you should do right now: if you have a twitter account, you should totally retweet this:
Let's make this happen people!
Wouldn't this be awesome??? (YES!) FYI: here's some basic info about PC (from Wikipedia of course):
The Peace Corps was established by Executive Order 10924 on March 1, 1961, and authorized by the Congress on September 22, 1961, with passage of the Peace Corps Act (Public Law 87-293). The act declares the program's purpose as follows:
To promote world peace and friendship through a Peace Corps, which shall make available to interested countries and areas men and women of the United States qualified for service abroad and willing to serve, under conditions of hardship if necessary, to help the peoples of such countries and areas in meeting their needs for trained manpower.
Since 1961, over 200,000 Americans have joined the Peace Corps, serving in 139 countries. Many former volunteers have risen to national prominence, not least the four who have served as Peace Corps Directors.
PC's current director, Aaron S. Williams, served as a volunteer in the Dominican Republic (YEAAAAH!!) from 1967-70. He was sworn in as director in 2009. To read more about this (awesome) dude go here.
So here's what you should do right now: if you have a twitter account, you should totally retweet this:
50th Anniversary PCV present! Calling on @TheDailyShow to invite #PeaceCorps Dir. Aaron Williams to #ComeOnJonStewart on March 1st!Or you can just click here and do it straight through Löki's twitter page.
Let's make this happen people!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Rap in Zaqatala
I'm from New York, which means I like rap. (Because don't those two things go hand in hand?) My favorite rapper is (clearly) Jay-Z, and I will listen to most rap as long as its not COMPLETELY ridiculous (Soulja Boy Tell 'Em?? Ummm NO!)... or at least the ridiculousness is hilarious in its severity (see: Cam'ron, Juelz Santana, Dipset, etc). So when I found out that we actually have rappers in my small region of Zaqatala I was super excited, because, really, how awesome is that?!?
Below is a music video by some of our local rappers. Enjoy, and feel free to leave any thoughts/comments/suggestions!
Below is a music video by some of our local rappers. Enjoy, and feel free to leave any thoughts/comments/suggestions!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Support Local Artistry...
...by watching this youtube clip of a young musician here in Zaqatala. It was an impromptu performance at our local IREX center so pardon the off-sounding-ness of it.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
My Tims
It's winter here and that means a few things: 1) its really cold all the time (especially indoors); 2) precipitation falls in the form of snow or (more commonly now because The End Is Near... 2012) sleet and freezing rain; and 3) slippery/muddy streets.
Being from NYC and having spent eight years in New England, I'm clearly familiar with the latter two of these. Even though I didn't know much about Azerbaijan before coming, I assumed winters here would be similar to those in the Northeast, and so I brought my most indispensable article of winter attire: Tims (check out their Urban Dictionary definition!).
I got the pair I brought to Azerbaijan back when I was still in high school, and they still look exactly the same. But why the H am I posting about this anyway? A few things:
1) Apparently Tims are a sign of my New York-ness, since they're only popular amongst inner-city peoples of color... (none of whom are in the Peace Corps in Azerbaijan.) It's so weird to me to meet people who have no idea what the F I'm talking about when I mention Tims.
2) I've actually received compliments from Azerbaijani's on my boots. I thought that since they're huge and yellow and don't have a heel that people wouldn't really like them on a female. I mean, they do make me look like a construction worker. (Well, an American construction worker... Most of the workers I've seen here wear slippers.)
3) One of the local Zaqatala rappers (who was actually familiar with Tims...probably because rappers have mentioned the boots in songs) asked if he could have my Tims when I left Azerbaijan in December. It was an odd request, especially since he had to ask my friend how to say "Can I have your boots?" in English.
If explaining/describing my boots to people also means I'm talking about urban culture - does that count as cultural exchange (and herego Peace Corps' Goal 2)?
Being from NYC and having spent eight years in New England, I'm clearly familiar with the latter two of these. Even though I didn't know much about Azerbaijan before coming, I assumed winters here would be similar to those in the Northeast, and so I brought my most indispensable article of winter attire: Tims (check out their Urban Dictionary definition!).
I got the pair I brought to Azerbaijan back when I was still in high school, and they still look exactly the same. But why the H am I posting about this anyway? A few things:1) Apparently Tims are a sign of my New York-ness, since they're only popular amongst inner-city peoples of color... (none of whom are in the Peace Corps in Azerbaijan.) It's so weird to me to meet people who have no idea what the F I'm talking about when I mention Tims.
2) I've actually received compliments from Azerbaijani's on my boots. I thought that since they're huge and yellow and don't have a heel that people wouldn't really like them on a female. I mean, they do make me look like a construction worker. (Well, an American construction worker... Most of the workers I've seen here wear slippers.)
3) One of the local Zaqatala rappers (who was actually familiar with Tims...probably because rappers have mentioned the boots in songs) asked if he could have my Tims when I left Azerbaijan in December. It was an odd request, especially since he had to ask my friend how to say "Can I have your boots?" in English.
If explaining/describing my boots to people also means I'm talking about urban culture - does that count as cultural exchange (and herego Peace Corps' Goal 2)?
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Friendo y Comiendo: Issue 04
Whenever PCV's get-together one thing is guaranteed to happen: food will be made. In larger get-togethers this usually means either burritos or one giant pot of some kind of pasta, be it mac n cheese or something tomato-based. I've been to my fair share of PCV gatherings and have noticed a pattern with these big meals: when there are 7 or more PCV's present, amounts will usually be underestimated and people will still be hungry after all the food is gone. When there are 6 or less PCV's, a ridiculously large amount of food is prepared and there ends up being enough leftovers for at least one or two extra meals.
So the other day I had a PCV over, and we decided to make lentil burritos (because they're super quick and easy to make with the ingredients here in Azerbaijan). We bought a bunch of things from the vegetable guy earlier in the day: cilantro, onions, peppers, spinach, carrots, and a pumpkin. These were not your ordinary burritos. We sprinkled some garlic pepper and olive oil on the carrots and pumpkin and roasted it in the oven; for the lentils we sauteed some onions and cooked them with a packet of taco seasoning; the spinach we just washed and left fresh. Our burritos ended up being lavash (tortilla-like flatbread) filled with lentils, mashed roasted pumpkin, spinach, sauteed onions and peppers, and crispy roasted carrots. It was delicious.
That was a week ago. Today, my dinner consisted of those same lentils that I STILL had over some white rice. I also needed to do something with all the leftover pumpkin...and so I looked up recipes online and found one for pumpkin gingerbread. I have no idea how it tastes, but I hope that the garlic pepper that was in the pumpkin is overshadowed by the ginger in the gingerbread... or else that is going to be one funky tasting bread. (It just came out of the oven, I am waiting for it to cool off a bit before I take the first bite.) The recipe for the gingerbread required about a cup of pumpkin...which means I STILL have leftover pumpkin from a week ago. At this point I don't even know what to do with it. (I'm not going to throw it out -- I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer, that would be soooo OLMAZ!) Maybe tomorrow I'll try some pumpkin pancakes...although I will still have the garlic-pepper-taste dilemma.
(Update: The pumpkin gingerbread is delicious. There is a hint of garlicky-pepperness, but its definitely overshadowed by the other flavors, thank goodness!) Look at it:
So the other day I had a PCV over, and we decided to make lentil burritos (because they're super quick and easy to make with the ingredients here in Azerbaijan). We bought a bunch of things from the vegetable guy earlier in the day: cilantro, onions, peppers, spinach, carrots, and a pumpkin. These were not your ordinary burritos. We sprinkled some garlic pepper and olive oil on the carrots and pumpkin and roasted it in the oven; for the lentils we sauteed some onions and cooked them with a packet of taco seasoning; the spinach we just washed and left fresh. Our burritos ended up being lavash (tortilla-like flatbread) filled with lentils, mashed roasted pumpkin, spinach, sauteed onions and peppers, and crispy roasted carrots. It was delicious.
That was a week ago. Today, my dinner consisted of those same lentils that I STILL had over some white rice. I also needed to do something with all the leftover pumpkin...and so I looked up recipes online and found one for pumpkin gingerbread. I have no idea how it tastes, but I hope that the garlic pepper that was in the pumpkin is overshadowed by the ginger in the gingerbread... or else that is going to be one funky tasting bread. (It just came out of the oven, I am waiting for it to cool off a bit before I take the first bite.) The recipe for the gingerbread required about a cup of pumpkin...which means I STILL have leftover pumpkin from a week ago. At this point I don't even know what to do with it. (I'm not going to throw it out -- I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer, that would be soooo OLMAZ!) Maybe tomorrow I'll try some pumpkin pancakes...although I will still have the garlic-pepper-taste dilemma.
(Update: The pumpkin gingerbread is delicious. There is a hint of garlicky-pepperness, but its definitely overshadowed by the other flavors, thank goodness!) Look at it:
Friday, January 14, 2011
Resolutions
At the beginning of every year, I like to make New Year's Resolutions...and usually about a week later I forget all about 'em. In an effort to actually remember them this year and maybe even try to keep up with them, I'm going to write them down.
Post-PC related:
1) Study and take the GREs in June.
2) Study and take the LSATs in June.
3) Research graduate school programs and apply by the end of the year.
Work related:
4) Continue my clubs.
5) Continue meeting people in my community.
6) Have an awesome Art Camp again this summer.
7) Try to get materials (textbooks/workbooks) to teach Spanish in the summer.
8) Get involved with softball.
Azerbaijan related:
9) Do all the things on my AZ bucket list
Life related:
10) Keep in better contact with peeps in the US
11) Laugh a lot.
12) Be awesome year-round.
Inshallah in December I will be able to say that I did all (or most) of these things... we'll see!
Post-PC related:
1) Study and take the GREs in June.
2) Study and take the LSATs in June.
3) Research graduate school programs and apply by the end of the year.
Work related:
4) Continue my clubs.
5) Continue meeting people in my community.
6) Have an awesome Art Camp again this summer.
7) Try to get materials (textbooks/workbooks) to teach Spanish in the summer.
8) Get involved with softball.
Azerbaijan related:
9) Do all the things on my AZ bucket list
Life related:
10) Keep in better contact with peeps in the US
11) Laugh a lot.
12) Be awesome year-round.
Inshallah in December I will be able to say that I did all (or most) of these things... we'll see!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Awesome Anecdote #1 (...because I'm assuming there will be others and I should start numbering them)
So today I was walking down my street, heading to our local IREX center. It was cold and kind of sunny, although there were mad clouds just creepin' by the mountains. So I got my scarf on, my coat, I'm wearing a skirt and some leggings with knee highs over them (because I clearly no longer actually care about fashion), and I got my iPod on listening to some good walking music.
I pass a young boy all bundled up with a bookbag on - he's probably walking home from school that must've just ended. I keep walking. I see an old lady. She's not wearing a coat. She is looking at me as if she is about to say something, and she is holding something in her hand. I get closer and I realize that she is holding a needle and a thread. She mumbles something to me that I don't understand (I'm not sure it was even in Azerbaijani), and tries to hand me the needle and thread. My amazing deductive reasoning skills are telling me that I think this lady wants me to thread the needle for her. She says a few more things, but all I make out is "eyes" and that the inflection in her voice means she just posed a question. Here's what I translate that to in my head: "I can't see very well, I can't get this thread through this needle. Can you do this for me?"
So of course I'm like "Oh yeah, I got you!," and I take the thread and needle from her. You know when you have some thread and the end is kind of frayed so you kind of lick it and pass your fingers over it so it'll stick back together in one piece? Well, it was clear that this lady had done this to the thread because it looked ready to be threaded. So I got to work, and the end of the thread was kind of tapered so it was easy to get the tip into the eye. (Sidenote: If I was telling this story to you in person, I would be inserting numerous "that's what she said"'s...try to guess where!) I started to get the thread through the needle but only a tiny bit of it had gone through so I couldn't grab hold of it enough to really pull.
At this point in my struggle, a car pulls up to the house we are standing next to and some old dudes get out. I deduct that this lady must live in the house because the dudes are talking to the lady, and after they say their Salam's she leaves me with the thread and walks into the house with one of the guys. I realize that the thread is way too thick to pass through the eye of the needle, but since I've already started forcing it through and the lady left me to my own accord I figured, whatevs, I'm gonna keep pulling it and eventually, maybe, it'll give way. Except that's not how the laws of physics work. One of the old guys who was still outside came over to see what I was doing, so I showed him the needle and thread. He proceeded to take it from me and explained that it was too small. I think he thought it was mine because he seemed really disappointed that it wouldn't fit, as if he was sad he couldn't help me out. I thought to myself, "Wait, for reals homie? You really think I'm just standing outside of your house trying to thread a needle?" but I appreciated that he cared so much. I explained that yes, I knew the thread was too big for the needle, but it wasn't mine though, I was just trying to help that lady. He thought that was funny and actually smiled. I left him with the needle and thread, said sağ olun, and continued down my street.
I walked away thinking, did that just happen? Did a stranger just stop me on the street to help her thread a needle? That was real? Yes, it was.
I pass a young boy all bundled up with a bookbag on - he's probably walking home from school that must've just ended. I keep walking. I see an old lady. She's not wearing a coat. She is looking at me as if she is about to say something, and she is holding something in her hand. I get closer and I realize that she is holding a needle and a thread. She mumbles something to me that I don't understand (I'm not sure it was even in Azerbaijani), and tries to hand me the needle and thread. My amazing deductive reasoning skills are telling me that I think this lady wants me to thread the needle for her. She says a few more things, but all I make out is "eyes" and that the inflection in her voice means she just posed a question. Here's what I translate that to in my head: "I can't see very well, I can't get this thread through this needle. Can you do this for me?"
So of course I'm like "Oh yeah, I got you!," and I take the thread and needle from her. You know when you have some thread and the end is kind of frayed so you kind of lick it and pass your fingers over it so it'll stick back together in one piece? Well, it was clear that this lady had done this to the thread because it looked ready to be threaded. So I got to work, and the end of the thread was kind of tapered so it was easy to get the tip into the eye. (Sidenote: If I was telling this story to you in person, I would be inserting numerous "that's what she said"'s...try to guess where!) I started to get the thread through the needle but only a tiny bit of it had gone through so I couldn't grab hold of it enough to really pull.
At this point in my struggle, a car pulls up to the house we are standing next to and some old dudes get out. I deduct that this lady must live in the house because the dudes are talking to the lady, and after they say their Salam's she leaves me with the thread and walks into the house with one of the guys. I realize that the thread is way too thick to pass through the eye of the needle, but since I've already started forcing it through and the lady left me to my own accord I figured, whatevs, I'm gonna keep pulling it and eventually, maybe, it'll give way. Except that's not how the laws of physics work. One of the old guys who was still outside came over to see what I was doing, so I showed him the needle and thread. He proceeded to take it from me and explained that it was too small. I think he thought it was mine because he seemed really disappointed that it wouldn't fit, as if he was sad he couldn't help me out. I thought to myself, "Wait, for reals homie? You really think I'm just standing outside of your house trying to thread a needle?" but I appreciated that he cared so much. I explained that yes, I knew the thread was too big for the needle, but it wasn't mine though, I was just trying to help that lady. He thought that was funny and actually smiled. I left him with the needle and thread, said sağ olun, and continued down my street.
I walked away thinking, did that just happen? Did a stranger just stop me on the street to help her thread a needle? That was real? Yes, it was.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Impromptu Dance Party!
This is what I'm dancing to right now in Azerbaijan, Tarkan's "Öp":
BAK BAK BAK BAK DURAMADIM!
And here is a youtube video of the lyrics so you can learn/sing along with the song:
And you can find the english translation here.
BAK BAK BAK BAK DURAMADIM!
And here is a youtube video of the lyrics so you can learn/sing along with the song:
And you can find the english translation here.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Friendo y Comiendo: Issue 03
Anyone who knows me knows that I am a picky eater. I have had many people tell me that I am the pickiest/weirdest eater they have ever met. I wear this "World's Pickiest Eater" title like a badge of honor.
For as long as I can remember, I have been a picky eater. I remember being in the first grade and looking at my classmates eating their fries with ketchup and being disgusted at the site of that condiment. Part of my picky habits can be attributed to my upbringing. Like many other Dominican parents, mine only cooked Dominican foods. No mac-n-cheese or green bean casseroles in the Alcántara household. Instead we usually ate la bandera Dominicana for dinner, which is a plate of rice, meat and beans. (In different combinations of course, but essentially 95% of my dinners were la bandera. I'm not complaining either, my parents are great cooks.) We didn't usually have too many vegetables, besides the ones used in making the rice/beans/meat.
Another reason for my picky habits is probably that my mother is also a picky eater. (It's genetic?!?) She doesn't drink milk or eat vegetables, and has a few other weird eating habits that I probably adopted. Whenever we would order Chinese food, she would make sure that we told the guy on the phone to make the shrimp fried rice SIN VEGETALES!
How picky am I? Well, here's a list of foods I didn't eat as of September 28, 2009 (the day before I joined the Peace Corps):
- milk
- most dairy products including: cheese and yogurt.
- condiments (ketchup, mayonnaise, BBQ sauce, mustard, relish, basically anything you would put on a hot dog or hamburger)
- peanut butter
- most vegetables (onions, peppers, spinach, cabbage, beets, broccoli, eggplant, squash, pumpkin, zucchini, artichoke, cauliflower, asparagus, radish)
- Dominican staples that when people find out I don't eat them they usually say something along the lines of "well you're not a REAL Dominican!" (avocado, platano verde hervido or en mangu form (I only eat platano verde in tostones form), platano maduro (I only eat it when its fried thinly and crispy, usually Papi has to make it because Mami lo cocina muy grueso), queso frito, beans (any and all forms of habichuelas)
- tuna and shellfish (shrimp, crab, lobster, clams, oysters, etc)
- certain fruits (apples, bananas, pineapples, pears, raspberries, blueberries, cherries, papayas)
- sushi
- meat that is not well done ('pink' is not a color I find attractive in meats)
- cream-based sauces and soups (this is related to my dairy products aversion)
I could go on but I think you get the point by now...
The number one thing I worried about before joining the Peace Corps was whether or not I would like the food in the country I was going to. What if I had to eat cheese every single day? Luckily fate put Azerbaijan in my destiny, a place where RICE (plov) is actually the national dish... what are the chances?!? If I was in America the only thing in this picture I would've eaten would've been the chicken and a few cucumbers:
I came to Azerbaijan with an open mind and determined to try new things and ease up on my picky eating. A year and a few months into my service, I am so proud of the change in my diet! My parents tried for 23 years to get me to eat beans, and that was one of the first things I started eating when I got to Azerbaijan! Some friends here still think I am too picky -- but that's because no me conocian cuando era even MORE mañosa! I was explaining to my family a few days ago over Skype all of the things I've been eating here, and they couldn't believe what they were hearing. Mami even joked that she should send Joel here so he can get over his pickiness too.
Foods that I eat now that I didn't eat before: beans, peanut butter, all the vegetables they have here in Azerbaijan (I'm still not that big a fan of eggplant, but I do eat it), all berries, and tuna. Sometimes I look at my plate of food here and I can't believe I'm eating (and enjoying) so many of the things I never ate back in the US. It's awesome!
For as long as I can remember, I have been a picky eater. I remember being in the first grade and looking at my classmates eating their fries with ketchup and being disgusted at the site of that condiment. Part of my picky habits can be attributed to my upbringing. Like many other Dominican parents, mine only cooked Dominican foods. No mac-n-cheese or green bean casseroles in the Alcántara household. Instead we usually ate la bandera Dominicana for dinner, which is a plate of rice, meat and beans. (In different combinations of course, but essentially 95% of my dinners were la bandera. I'm not complaining either, my parents are great cooks.) We didn't usually have too many vegetables, besides the ones used in making the rice/beans/meat.
Another reason for my picky habits is probably that my mother is also a picky eater. (It's genetic?!?) She doesn't drink milk or eat vegetables, and has a few other weird eating habits that I probably adopted. Whenever we would order Chinese food, she would make sure that we told the guy on the phone to make the shrimp fried rice SIN VEGETALES!
How picky am I? Well, here's a list of foods I didn't eat as of September 28, 2009 (the day before I joined the Peace Corps):
- milk
- most dairy products including: cheese and yogurt.
- condiments (ketchup, mayonnaise, BBQ sauce, mustard, relish, basically anything you would put on a hot dog or hamburger)
- peanut butter
- most vegetables (onions, peppers, spinach, cabbage, beets, broccoli, eggplant, squash, pumpkin, zucchini, artichoke, cauliflower, asparagus, radish)
- Dominican staples that when people find out I don't eat them they usually say something along the lines of "well you're not a REAL Dominican!" (avocado, platano verde hervido or en mangu form (I only eat platano verde in tostones form), platano maduro (I only eat it when its fried thinly and crispy, usually Papi has to make it because Mami lo cocina muy grueso), queso frito, beans (any and all forms of habichuelas)
- tuna and shellfish (shrimp, crab, lobster, clams, oysters, etc)
- certain fruits (apples, bananas, pineapples, pears, raspberries, blueberries, cherries, papayas)
- sushi
- meat that is not well done ('pink' is not a color I find attractive in meats)
- cream-based sauces and soups (this is related to my dairy products aversion)
I could go on but I think you get the point by now...
The number one thing I worried about before joining the Peace Corps was whether or not I would like the food in the country I was going to. What if I had to eat cheese every single day? Luckily fate put Azerbaijan in my destiny, a place where RICE (plov) is actually the national dish... what are the chances?!? If I was in America the only thing in this picture I would've eaten would've been the chicken and a few cucumbers:
I came to Azerbaijan with an open mind and determined to try new things and ease up on my picky eating. A year and a few months into my service, I am so proud of the change in my diet! My parents tried for 23 years to get me to eat beans, and that was one of the first things I started eating when I got to Azerbaijan! Some friends here still think I am too picky -- but that's because no me conocian cuando era even MORE mañosa! I was explaining to my family a few days ago over Skype all of the things I've been eating here, and they couldn't believe what they were hearing. Mami even joked that she should send Joel here so he can get over his pickiness too.
Foods that I eat now that I didn't eat before: beans, peanut butter, all the vegetables they have here in Azerbaijan (I'm still not that big a fan of eggplant, but I do eat it), all berries, and tuna. Sometimes I look at my plate of food here and I can't believe I'm eating (and enjoying) so many of the things I never ate back in the US. It's awesome!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Things I've Found in AZ: Music Video Edition
The other day I was sitting with a friend in our local IREX Center, googling pictures of cartoon characters for a PowerPoint presentation that was geared towards children. I was raised on/by television so of course I kept suggesting different cartoons to my friend. I mentioned the classics, including Winnie the Pooh, the Pink Panther, and the Flintstones - ones that I figured had worldwide appeal. She then showed me a cartoon character I've never seen before, called "nu pogodi", or at least that's what she typed into google. She told me it was a very popular and hilarious Russian cartoon, and she couldn't believe that I had never heard of it. She tried to jog my memory by singing the theme song, and proceeded to say something that sounded like "blahblahblahdancerblahblah."
Needless to say, by this point I was ecstatic, not only because the song sounds awesomely awful, but because she is actually singing it to me in a room full of people. I gave her a "WTF is that??" look, and she proceeded to go on youtube to find the song she was singing.
AND THEN I STRUCK GOLD. Below is the video that she showed me:
This is the best thing I've seen in Azerbaijan since THIS. It's indescribably incredible. Do we have things like this on tv in America?? And if so, what channel is it on because I NEED to get it when I go back to the US!
Needless to say, by this point I was ecstatic, not only because the song sounds awesomely awful, but because she is actually singing it to me in a room full of people. I gave her a "WTF is that??" look, and she proceeded to go on youtube to find the song she was singing.
AND THEN I STRUCK GOLD. Below is the video that she showed me:
This is the best thing I've seen in Azerbaijan since THIS. It's indescribably incredible. Do we have things like this on tv in America?? And if so, what channel is it on because I NEED to get it when I go back to the US!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Yeni Iliniz Mubarek!
Happy New Year my wonderful people!
Last year to celebrate New Year's, I traveled into the capital, Baku, with the rest of the AZ7 volunteer group. We ate a lot of delicious food, hung out with each other, and basically just had a nice time. Baku however, is a very expensive city when you are living on a Peace Corps budget. I remember spending wayyyy too much money. So this year I decided to pass on the Baku New Year's celebrations, not only because I'm broke but also because Baku is just too far from Zaqatala (an eight-hour bus ride).
So I spent New Year's in my town. And it was AWESOME! A quick schedule rundown of my day (on the 31st): woke up late; visited my new sitemate's (Jane) family in Danaçı (a village in the Zaqatala region); hung out with her host mom and sisters; had yarpaq (grape leaf) dolma for lunch (so delicious!); watched her host sister make a LOT of şirin çorək (a nut/sugar-filled pastry); proceeded to eat like 20 of those things; went back to the city to my house; played board games with Jane and Mike; sang karaoke through youtube on my computer at my house; went to visit my friend Könül's family;
had tea and dinner with them (we ate plov (rice with meat, caramelized onions & beans), roasted chicken with potatoes, and yarpaq and kelem (cabbage) dolma... I may have had to unbutton my pants after that feast); at 11:30 headed to the town center to watch the fireworks at midnight; almost had a limb blown off by how ridiculously close we were to all the explosives; met with other friends in the city and walked around town for an hour and half; strolled back home and did random internet-y things until 3am.
In summary: I had a fabulous New Year's Eve, which I think means that 2011 is going to be an equally fabulous/wonderful/amazing year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)