Son Zeng (The Last Bell)...

The last day of school was May 31st. Now, in all honestly, the kids stopped coming to school about a week before that, but the official last day was a big deal. Just like at home, the day was eagerly anticipated by students and teachers alike.

At every school there is a ceremony on May 31st called Son Zeng. I was told by my counterpart that ours would start at 10 a.m. I should have learned, after almost a year here, that the really means about noon. So, I hung out at school, talking to the teachers and students until the event began.

Like every Azer ceremony, it was filled with speeches – but, as my mom pointed out, I understood a lot more at this one than I did at the first day ceremony. And, even better, I didn't have to give a speech this time! No congratulating anyone on behalf of anything this time. Yay! Instead, I just got to observe. I think that might mean that I am finally viewed as more than the American guest. Maybe even a real teacher. Hmmm. Can always hope, anyway.

The ceremony was LONG, but cool. Each of the 11th form classes paraded out, all decked out in their finery. When they reached the center of the courtyard, they all released white pigeons into the air (does anyone know – are white pigeons doves? One of the English teachers told me that they are, but I'm skeptical.) That was super neat to see. They were all presented with their certificates (essentially diplomas) by the director. As each student came up to receive their certificate, family members would come up and present them with those huge bouquets of fake flowers.

Next came more speeches, then the now graduated 11th formers passed the symbolic key to the school to the 10th formers – the new top class. After that can my absolute favorite part. The 11th form boys paraded around with the little 1st form girls on their shoulders, while the itty-bitty girls rang hand bells. Officially – the last bell ringing. I cannot tell you how absolutely adorable that was. My heart completely melted. My pictures don't do the moment justice.

The ceremony ended – after more speeches – with all of the students dancing. They played loud Azeri music through the speakers (they also did this in between every break of the ceremony) and the students all danced. I love watching Azeri dancing – I am, however, not very good at it. Family members and some of the teachers joined in. No surprise, I guess, I was pulled down to join the dancing. I spent most of my time dancing with my host sister Shams (who just graduated – and will spend next year studying in America! I'm pretty proud of her), until somehow I got sucked into a dance-off with one of the boys. Well, not really a dance-off, more him doing crazy stuff with his feet and me trying to follow. I held my own for awhile, but mostly I looked ridiculous. Let me tell you, this was a BIG hit! Seriously, a huge circle surrounded us, watching. It is all on several videos of the day – both the official school video and a lot of home cameras. Yippee. There is part of me that loves the novelty and celebrity of being Miss Jane, and then there is that other part that would happily hide. Gotta say, the dancing part of my celebrity I kinda loved! It was fun.

Finally, the crowds began to disperse, and I headed home to take a nap. Son Zeng was one of the neatest things I've been to here. Way different from American graduation ceremonies or even Elementary school last days. In a lots of ways, much cooler. Although, there is something to be said ice cream socials and going to the pool. Ahh, well, you can't have everything. Birds, bells, and dancing is pretty awesome.

Summer Vacation...

Well, the final week of my first year of school is upon me. Like almost every teacher and student on the planet, my dominating emotion is YAHOOOOO!!!!! The old kids' rhyme, “no more teachers, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks” has been running through my head for the past few weeks. Even when I was a kid who really like school, there was just something about getting to that last day and having the prospect of summer stretching before you. Ahhhhh.

Originally, I had a very lazy summer planned. I feel like I've earned it. I'm traveling in June – which will be awesome. Outside of that, I was just gonna hang out, continue some of my regular clubs, maybe go help some of the other volunteers with projects. Spend a lot of time in the direct line of my fan to survive the heat, maybe do a little sunbathing in Tom or Ashley's yard. Sounds like a great plan, right? Like every teacher a student, I worked hard during the school year. I deserve a break. And, I was definitely looking forward to my lazy summer. Until I had the idea.

One day a couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in one of my lessons, honestly, bored out of my skull. I started thinking about all of the ideas that I have had of projects and things to do. Originally, my thought path was for clubs and things next school year. And then I thought about the 3 months looming ahead of me. And I decided.

The idea is an English Summer Day Camp. It is 4 weeks long, 5 days a week, 4 hours a day. Here's the part that I love about my camp – each week is going to have a different theme. The first week is just English language. Get the kids comfortable(ish) is English, get them prepped for some of the stuff they'll do in the following weeks, get them to have fun with learning. The second week is Arts and Crafts. The third week is Sports and Games, and the fourth week is Drama and Theatre. (That's kinda the selfish one – I actually get to kinda use my lovely theatre degree that has been sitting idle for the past few years.)

It took a bit of work to turn the idea of the camp into something that is really going to happen. I am enlisting the help of my PCV friends – each week 5 to 9 different volunteers are coming down to help. I had to get permission from my school director (essentially the school principal – you don't do anything without getting his approval). I had to prepare information for him in English and Azeri. Luckily, my director is awesome and he is really into the idea. I had to explain it to the other English teachers so they can help me explain it to the kids. I had to hope that kids would actually be interested in coming.

The response has been awesome. My friends are really into coming to help. The kid response is even better – if a little overwhelming. I expected to get 30 – 50 kids who wanted to come. I had a moment of panic on Friday when I was counting the applications in so far and I already have over 75 students signed up. And the deadline is Tuesday. I still think I might be in over my head, but it is also so completely awesome that so many kids are into it and excited about it – it kind of inspires me.

So, here is the shameless plea part of this blog... I need supplies. I certainly don't have the funds on my Peace Corps living allowance to get much and, in a lot of cases, the stuff just isn't available here. I can't ask the kids to pay – kind of defeats some of the purpose. So, I'm asking you. Or, rather, I am offering you an amazing opportunity to support a really cool Peace Corps project, and help provide something for these kids and this community.

The Flegal family is heading up the donations part of this. If you are interested, please email my mom at suzflegal@verizon.net or sflegal@theprdgroup.com. She has a list of the things I really need – things like paint and chalk and yarn and jump ropes. There is a time constraint – to get stuff to Azerbaijan in time, she needs to mail it by mid to late June.

I want to thank the people who are already helping and those of you who will! It is really amazing for me to see and feel the support from everyone at home. This experience is going to mean so much for my kids, I love that you all are enthused about helping me and helping them.

Just Some Pictures...

I know, I know... I haven't posted anything in forever. I'm just bad at this internet thing here. Anyway, as an attempt to make it up to my fans, I thought I'd share some pictures I've taken recently of things that have made me smile. Enjoy!

The first is a sight that made me so happy I could cry... Almost everyone at home know how I feel about Coca Cola. Seeing the truck here...awesome!

These are fishing nets, strung out to dry. Being right on the Caspian Sea, Lankaran is a big fishing town. Men put the nets out at night, then bring them in in the morning, taking to fish to the bazar to sell (on several occasions I've seen fish so fresh they were still flopping), and letting the nets dry through the day.

This is a building right by my school where they sell bread (that's what corek means). I have always liked this building, so I finally took a picture of it.

This is me (obviously) at the local history museum. The pot I am holding is dated to 1392. And the museum had no problem with me picking it up. I have a feeling the folks at PRD would not be big fans of me handling ancient artifacts for the fun of it. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should, right?

This is one of the parks in Lankaran. I just like that they have a map of Azerbaijan made out of plants and flowers.

This is a fishing shack on the beach. I just liked it.

This is at the bazar - and a common practice all over Azerbaijan, referred to by many as the Loaded Lada. That's cabbages filling it up.

This is a painting on the wall in my school. I think it is rad.

This is one of my favorite things about Azerbaijan, that I didn't know until just recently. They have these fields of roses all over. And they are all in bloom right now. It is this amazing spot of beauty in a place where that is so often missing.

Renting in the AZ...

So, I moved into my apartment in March, thrilled that I had my own home. Now, when you rent in Azerbaijan, you don't pay a security deposit or sign any silly leases. You just pay the first month's rent and move in. At any point, you can move out, or the landlord can ask you to leave. But, I was confident (well, really, REALLY hopeful) that I wouldn't encounter anything like that. I was quite happy to believe that I had just settled in to my home for the next year and a half. Silly, silly Jane.

One morning, after I had been here for about a month, Ruhangiz – my counterpart who helped me find this apartment – called and asked if I would be at home that evening – she had something to tell me about my apartment. “But, don't worry,” she said. “It is not bad.” Cool. No problem.

So, she came over, we chatted for a few minutes. In true Azer style, I offered her some tea. Then, she told me her news. My landlady's son was coming from Russia for the months of June and July for his daughter to get married. Ok. Sounds neat. (Sidenote, the daughter getting married is 15 years old. She and her fiance have only met on the internet. And that is not too far off from the usual way of marriages here.) Then she drops the bombshell - that means that I will have to live somewhere else for those 2 months. WHAT?!?!?!?!? Not neat. Definitely not cool. Definitely a problem.

Needless to say, I kinda freaked out. I liked my apartment. I did NOT want to move. I absolutely did not want to go through the ordeal of trying to find a place again. How did they not know this a month ago – and why didn't they tell me? This is SO not fair. My counterpart tried to help, she even suggested a couple of solutions – live with one of my friends for those months or go to Baku for the time. Lovely – except that both would get me kicked out of the Peace Corps. When I told her that, she suggested I just don't tell them. Ok-aay. I'm kind of not a fan of lying to my employers – and the concept of getting caught was way scarier than, say, calling in sick when I wasn't really. So, after some thought, I decided not to take her advice and resigned myself to start looking for a new place to live. Ugh. Crap. Yuck. Unfair. And again, crap.

The next day, my counterpart agreed to go to see the real estate agent that found this apartment after school. Let the hunt begin. On the plus side, at least I had a month to find a new place. About the time I expected to hear from Ruhangiz, my phone rang. It was my landlady. Hmmm. Now, my azeri isn't great. And it is even worse on the phone. Normally she only calls me to see if I got water or to invite me to her house or to come over to mine. Those conversations I have learned the pattern of and fair pretty well in. This time, I only understood half of what she was saying - “Jane, getma (don't go).” “Qal (stay).” During the call, I had no idea what “qal” was – I looked it up in the dictionary after I got off the phone. I kinda thought she was telling me there was a problem with the water. Then I thought I was supposed to go to her house. I really just had no idea what was going on. I kept telling her I didn't understand. Finally, I think a bit exasperated, she told me that Ruhangiz was coming to my apartment.

I hung up, and almost immediately there was a knock on my door. My counterpart, out of breath from my 4 flights of soviet steps, was here. She told me that now I DON'T have to move out. I can stay until I leave in 2009. I was, of course, thrilled, but skeptical. How could things have changed over night? Not wanting to believe it, I asked what happened. The explanation – I am a yaxsi qiz (good girl) so the son found another place to stay while his family is here. All I can say is, thank god for being a yaxsi qiz.

I can honestly say, that 24 hours is probably the most stressed out I've been here. Panicked, angry, worried. Not a fun experience, but I survived, and now, it makes a pretty darn good story!

A Real American...

So, today, in my seventh form lesson, I was asked if I was a real American. Wow. What was intended as an innocent question started to make my head reel with the answers and possibilities to what that question could mean. Now, I know that what they were intending to ask was if I was Native American – they had just come from their geography lesson where they were learning about North America. But, the way it was asked, “are you a REAL American?” totally captivated my brain.

For my students, I gave a short(ish) answer. “I think you are asking if I am Native American. No. Native Americans – also called Indians (surprisingly, this distinction helped them understand the difference between “real” and “native” quite easily) are the ones you are learning about and they are the people that have always been in America. I am not a Native American, but, I am a REAL American. And my friends are real Americans. In America, most people immigrated and settled there. My ancestors (definition of the words ancestors inserted here) come from Ireland and Germany and who knows where else, but I am a real American. My friend's ancestors come from Korea, but she is still a real American. Americans come from all over the world.” When I got off of my “real American” soap box, I think they kinda got it – or maybe I just gave them a really long-winded answer when all I needed to say was, “nope, I'm not an Indian.”

But, then, throughout the rest of the day the question stayed with me. What is a real American? How do I define myself as an American? Because I am 100% real American. And how is my idea of that being affected by this experience – living in a completely different country and culture?

Some of it is definitely geography – I was born in Virginia, so I am American. My parents and grandparents were all born on U.S. soil, so I am American. But there is so much more to it than that.

I think it is a mindset. To be American is a way of thinking, an attitude, a frame of mind. Life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness - isn't that kinda what defines Americans? We believe in these things so strongly, that they have shaped our national definition.

I have every opportunity I want set before me. I am living in a country where girls can't go to restaurants and have to be careful about socializing with boys. And I come from a place where a woman might be the next president. I have gotten to choose every step, every path I have taken with my life. And when I return from here and choose the next path to take, I can literally do anything I want. Anything.

I am idealistic. “No” and “because” are never legitimate answers to my questions if I believe they shouldn't be. I get to rock the boat and try and change the world. And, even more importantly, I believe I can.

There are things I just don't understand because I am American – and I will never be able to truly appreciate them. I have never had to live through the pain and turmoil that is part of the very recent history of the people I currently live with. I don 't really understand what it is to struggle. My life has been so easy, comparatively, it is a joke. I am privileged, simply because of where I was born. And even now, I am living through the day to day struggles of a developing country with a time limit. I leave after 2 years. That is not the case for the people I am working and living with. This is their life.

I am free to have all kinds of thoughts about myself and my country. I can think and choose and say whatever I want. I can be the biggest patriot out there – or advertise how bad I think America is. I can be somewhere in the middle. I can question the choices of my bosses and my nation's leaders. And, if I don't like them, I can stand up and say something. Not everyone in the world has that privilege. And I view it as a god given right.

My definition of self – and what being American is has definitely been affected by being here. How could it not? I see how incredibly lucky I am. I see how naively egotistical I am. I think I am becoming a better American by being here. I know I'm becoming a better person.

But here's what keeps my mind reeling – if I were to ask any of my friends or family this question – what is a real American – their answer would be different. And still completely true and 100% American. Because the definition of each of us is also the definition of American. There is a foundation we share, but we all have our own experiences and beliefs and challenges that have shaped us and our view of our nationality. So, that brings me back to the beginning - what is a REAL American? And how can that ever be truly answered?

All By Myself...

Well, the time has finally come. After 6 months (9, if you count Pre-Service Training) of living with a host family, I finally get to move out and live on my own! This is the day I have been waiting for since, well, June. I do really like my host family, but, for me, move out day was like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one.

The weeks leading up to March 13 were filled with house hunting. I had basically all of Lankaran helping me – my sitemates, my counterparts, all of the other teachers at school, my students, and any random person I met and had more than a 2 minute conversation with. The people at school decided that I needed to live in an apartment – they say it is safer. I would have been fine with either a house or an apartment, so I was ok with focusing on apartments.

As Peace Corps volunteers, we don't get a huge sum to be able to pay in rent. So, just finding something in my “budget” was a challenge. Then, if you find something too far in advance of when you can move in, you will probably lose it to someone who can move in immediately. And, in one case, I had a guaranteed, very lovely apartment... until the lady's kids said she couldn't rent it. Ugh. But, finally, I found a place, within my price range, that Peace Corps approved. As soon as it was ok-ed, I started carting my stuff over.

My apartment is nice, but sparse. I live on the fourth floor of your standard soviet style apartment building. I have a bedroom, guesting room, kitchen, toilet, and hammam (the azer word for the bathing room). A bed, a table, and 4 chairs are basically my only furniture. My landlady provided me with 3 plates, 3 bowls, 3 cups, 3 forks, 3 spoons, and 3 knives. She gave me a pot to cook in and 2 teapots (you can see where the priority is here!). I have a balcony on either side of the apartment, which is awesome. And here's the most exciting thing – I have a western style toilet. No more squatting at home for me! YAY!!!!

I still live really close to my school – my walk to work is about 5 minutes. I definitely like that. Among my neighbors are my landlady one of my counterparts, and no less than 5 of my students. That is really nice for lots of reasons. I am still a bit of a novelty in the neighborhood, but slowly there is less of the chatter about “the American girl” and more of the passing “hi, how are you”s.

It is truly wonderful to have my own space. I don't have to report my comings and goings to anyone, I don't have to ask to take a shower or do my laundry. I get to cook my own food. And, for the first time since I have been in this country, I have a place where I can truly and completely relax. And that is wonderful.

Happy Women's Day!!!

March 8th is International Women's Day. And it is a big deal here. In a country where gender equality is still far from present, I find it refreshing that they thoroughly embrace a day celebrating women. I could use this event to talk about the ever-frustrating gender roles here in the AZ, but I'd rather honor the true spirit of the day. So, I thought I would take a moment to talk about the women who inspire me in my life.

First, and foremost, my mom. Even without what she has done as a mom, she is amazing. She is passionate about what she believes in, but is also open to other perspectives and new ideas. She is strong and kind. She is incredibly smart. For what she has done for me and my sisters, I appreciate her the most. She has raised three girls to be strong, confident women who know they can do anything they want and are daring enough to try. Even when she doesn't completely agree with us, when we decide on something she supports us wholeheartedly. No matter how big the mistake (and I've made some doozies) we might make, she is there for us, and always reminds us how much she loves us. As a role model, I truly cannot think of a better person.

My sisters. Kara, who is bold and confident and knows herself and what she wants. She is proud of who she is and what she does. She is beautiful and cool and fun and happy.
Kate, who has strength I can only imagine. She is her own person, and doesn't let Kara or I try to change that. Her heart is bigger than anyone I know. She is silly and gorgeous and dedicated.

The RC Girls. Heidi, who makes being smart cool and who is absolutely one of the best friends a person could ever ask for. She guided me through some of my rockiest moments, and has always been there for all of here friends. And, I have to say, I kinda want to go back to school so I can take one of her classes.

Shannon who, as Heidi put it best, values her friendships and does what she can to take care of them. Shan and I have a somewhat rocky past, but she has been one of my strongest supporters in recent years – and does the same for all of her friends. Her support has gotten me through some of my hardest days here.

Heather, who somehow, makes owning a minivan seem right. I think she was destined to be a mom – and she is really good at it!

Amber, who has always seemed to be the free spirit to me. In a lot of ways, she inspired me to follow the path I was supposed to be on, not the one I was stuck on.

Beth, who is the coolest version of cool that I know. She is quietly confident and fun and happy. Having her as a friend has always made me want to be a better person.

Allison, who went through all of the growing pains of becoming actual adults with me – either in the same town, or over the phone. She is generous and loving, and without her, I wouldn't be the woman I am today.

The others. Alice, who is a wanderer and who helped me remember that being adventurous is not only good for you, but, often, necessary.

Bree, who is passionate and creative in a way I admire more than I can put into words.

Pat Berg, who not only got me my first job, but also showed me the value of hard work and loving what you do. Outside of that, she is a constant example of kindness and love for me.

My aunts, who, throughout my life, have helped me realize the value of a loving family.

Joanne, who is as much family as anyone I am related to. Disappointing her would be almost as bad as disappointing my parents. She knows how to laugh at herself and enjoy everyday life, which is something everyone should be able to do as well as she does.

Sue, who helped me find my way to my own ideas about politics and the things that are important to me.

The Peace Corps women, who for various and sundry reasons have all decided to make this ridiculous journey, which shows strength and independence and desire to make both other peoples lives and their own better. On a daily basis I can think of another woman here who makes me incredibly proud to be a member of the Peace Corps and a woman, and makes me want to do better to live up to their example.

There are so many women who have influenced my life – I wish I could list them all. If you are reading this, you are probably one of them. I am incredibly lucky to have had so many amazing female influences on my life. Each of you has helped me become who I am and makes me want to be an even better version of me. You inspire me and make me proud. Thank you. Happy Women's Day.