Ask a lot of PCVs, and they'll probably groan if you mention the word "sustainability". Sustainability is a concept that is pretty high on the list of Peace Corps ideals. The premise is that everything we do should be sustainable - the people we work with should be able to do it without us after we're gone. Makes sense that that should be one of our primary goals as PCVs. I do actually believe that it is very important to what I am doing here. The concept is great. But, I have to be honest, the reality of sustainability is HARD. But like any good volunteer, I don't let the challenges keep me down. I keep plugging away. What's that old saying? If at first you don't succeed, try, try (try, try, try, try, try, try, try ,try) again.
About a year ago, I had a pretty intense conversation with my counterpart about the solar system (there's a section in the seventh form textbook about the planets.) As we were beginning the unit, my counterpart told the students that there were 11 planets. Now, science was never my strong point, but I was pretty sure that number was wrong. So, I asked her what the 11 planets were. Her answer, "Earth, Mars, Saturn, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, the Sun and the Moon." The Sun and the Moon??????? OK, I'll repeat, science was never my strong point, but I'm pretty much positive that the Sun and the Moon are NOT planets. We have a really good relationship, so instead of letting it go and letting her save face in front of the students, I challenged her. I wasn't going to touch the whole "Pluto's not really a planet" thing with a ten foot pole, but I had to address the Sun and the Moon. We went back and forth about it for the majority of the lesson. By the end of the lesson, I still wasn't completely sure I had convinced her. But I fought the good fight.
Fast forward to the same unit this year. For about a week ahead of time, I was dreading the day we got to the solar system. D-Day arrived. As we began the lesson, I braced myself to hear about the 11 planets in our solar system. I had even made the decision that I was going to let it go this year - it would be hard and go against ever fiber of my being, but it just wasn't worth it. Is that reverse sustainability - they're changing me? Anyway.
She asked the question, "how many planets are there?" The kids said 9. I took a deep breath and waited for her to correct them. And then she said, "That's correct. There are 9 planets. Are the Sun and the Moon planets?" Pause. "No. The Sun and the Moon are NOT planets."
I was shocked. I was amazed. I was incredibly proud. I helped someone I was working with to see things differently and do something differently - without my prompting. I have achieved sustainability. I am a successful volunteer.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Shannon and Dr. Heidi continue their tour of the AZ...
Winter is a slow time for activities in the AZ, so Shannon and Dr. Heidi have pretty much just been living the volunteer life for the past few months. Here are a few photos of their recent outings and activities.
Like any good PCV, Shannon and Dr. Heidi don't let a minor inconvenience like a lack of power stop them from getting in some quality reading time.
The southern PCVs got together to celebrate Valentines Day this year. Jon from Bilasuvar was really impressed by Shannon and Dr. Heidi. There was no stopping him when he found out they had different outfits to choose from - hours of entertainment!
Shannon and Dr. Heidi with a few of the Valentines from my conversation club students. I LOVE that Heidi's says "Be Me."
PCVs gathered in Zagatala to celebrate our New President and listen to his Inauguration speech. Shannon and Dr. Heidi were THRILLED to get their picture taken with President Obobblehead.
And, last but not least, Shannon and Dr. Heidi got all snuggled in for their first trip on the night train. By far the best way to travel in the AZ.
Like any good PCV, Shannon and Dr. Heidi don't let a minor inconvenience like a lack of power stop them from getting in some quality reading time.
The southern PCVs got together to celebrate Valentines Day this year. Jon from Bilasuvar was really impressed by Shannon and Dr. Heidi. There was no stopping him when he found out they had different outfits to choose from - hours of entertainment!Shannon and Dr. Heidi with a few of the Valentines from my conversation club students. I LOVE that Heidi's says "Be Me."
PCVs gathered in Zagatala to celebrate our New President and listen to his Inauguration speech. Shannon and Dr. Heidi were THRILLED to get their picture taken with President Obobblehead.
And, last but not least, Shannon and Dr. Heidi got all snuggled in for their first trip on the night train. By far the best way to travel in the AZ.Saturday, February 28, 2009
Once Again, True Love Thwarted by Religious Differences...
Almost all of my students have captured a piece of my heart in one way or another. One of my favorite kids is a 6th former named Murad. He's a sweet kid, eager to learn, and just full of life. His ears stick out a little and he has a slight stutter, both of which make him all that more endearing.
Last year, I became fairly certain that Murad had a crush on me. He was always eager to please Miss Jane. He would walk me home from school and bring me fruit and flowers from his garden. I have to be honest, I kinda love it. I mean, how cute is it to be the object of a schoolboy crush?
As this year began, it was pretty obvious that the crush was still there. He's turned into a 6th grade boy - showing off a little, doing the little things in class that are kind of misbehavior, but are guaranteed to make me and my counterpart laugh. He is my most dedicated conversation club attendee. No flowers this year, but he did bring me a bag of chips and some candy.
A few weeks ago, the father of one of the girls in Murad's class returned from a religious trip to Iraq. She brought everyone gifts from the trip. The gift she gave me was one of the stones that gets placed on the floor so that your head doesn't touch the ground when you pray and some really pretty cloths to put the stone on. Always trying to turn eveything into an English lesson, I asked questions. My counterpart and the kids answered them - mostly in English.
I have never talked about my own religious beliefs with Azerbaijanis. It's kinda frowned on, and more importantly, its not why I'm here. But the assumption is that because I am American, I am Christian. I'm ok with that, but I do often wonder how my Jewish PCV friends feel about it.
Anyway. As we were talking about the gift and the students were answering my questions about what it was used for, how to care for it, etc, Murad asked my counterpart - in Azeri - if I was Muslim. She told him - also in Azeri - no, Miss Jane is Christian. At point, Murad VERY dramatically pretends to sob and cry at the calamity of me being a - gasp - Christian.
And in that one moment, my luster diminished in his eyes. Oh sure, he still likes me. He still shows off for me, but not as much. Since then, he's even skipped a few conversations clubs. And the pure joy in his eyes when he gazes upon me has faded. And I am no longer the amazing and wonderful Miss Jane, glorious object of desire. I'm just kinda cool fun Miss Jane, who is heartbreakingly Christian.
Oh, sure, the earth still spins on its axis, the world will not come to an end. But for me, a little bit of the joy in life has gone, and it can never be recovered. Sigh.
Last year, I became fairly certain that Murad had a crush on me. He was always eager to please Miss Jane. He would walk me home from school and bring me fruit and flowers from his garden. I have to be honest, I kinda love it. I mean, how cute is it to be the object of a schoolboy crush?
As this year began, it was pretty obvious that the crush was still there. He's turned into a 6th grade boy - showing off a little, doing the little things in class that are kind of misbehavior, but are guaranteed to make me and my counterpart laugh. He is my most dedicated conversation club attendee. No flowers this year, but he did bring me a bag of chips and some candy.
A few weeks ago, the father of one of the girls in Murad's class returned from a religious trip to Iraq. She brought everyone gifts from the trip. The gift she gave me was one of the stones that gets placed on the floor so that your head doesn't touch the ground when you pray and some really pretty cloths to put the stone on. Always trying to turn eveything into an English lesson, I asked questions. My counterpart and the kids answered them - mostly in English.
I have never talked about my own religious beliefs with Azerbaijanis. It's kinda frowned on, and more importantly, its not why I'm here. But the assumption is that because I am American, I am Christian. I'm ok with that, but I do often wonder how my Jewish PCV friends feel about it.
Anyway. As we were talking about the gift and the students were answering my questions about what it was used for, how to care for it, etc, Murad asked my counterpart - in Azeri - if I was Muslim. She told him - also in Azeri - no, Miss Jane is Christian. At point, Murad VERY dramatically pretends to sob and cry at the calamity of me being a - gasp - Christian.
And in that one moment, my luster diminished in his eyes. Oh sure, he still likes me. He still shows off for me, but not as much. Since then, he's even skipped a few conversations clubs. And the pure joy in his eyes when he gazes upon me has faded. And I am no longer the amazing and wonderful Miss Jane, glorious object of desire. I'm just kinda cool fun Miss Jane, who is heartbreakingly Christian.
Oh, sure, the earth still spins on its axis, the world will not come to an end. But for me, a little bit of the joy in life has gone, and it can never be recovered. Sigh.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
My New Door...
A few weeks ago, I was walking home and got followed by a car full of boys. While it wasn't one of my favorite experiences here, it led to a day that ranks high on my top ten list of experiences in the AZ.
About a week after the car-full-of-stupid-boys event, I got a call from my landlady. One of the benefits of being a yaxsi qiz (good girl) living in the fishbowl is that when something even slightly bad happens, everyone knows and everyone wants to take care of you.
So, my landlady. On this particular Friday night about a week later, she called me to tell me that the next day they were coming over to install a fancy new metal door so that, and I quote (well, I translate and quote), "the bad boys can't get me and I won't be scared." I didn't know that I was scared, but whatever. I'll take a fancy new metal door.
Saturday morning, my landlady's husband showed up with the new door and a couple of guys to install it. Very quickly my old wooden door with the Coca Cola sticker was gone and the work began to install the fancy new metal door. While the guys were banging and hammering and chunks of cement were falling, my phone rang. My landlady, asking to speak to her husband. When he got off the phone, he told me to go over to their apartment right away to eat. Ohhhhh Kaaaay. Sure.
When I got there, Hegiget (my landlady) was in the kitchen with 3 other xanims, her daughter-in-law, and her 2 year old grandson. They were making ash (with a long "a"). Ash is milk porridge. It tasted a lot like rice pudding to me. While they were cooking, I sat down, had some tea and just got to chat with them. There was, of course, lots of them talking about me, but there was also a really great conversation. They explained that the ash was part of a religous holiday Azerbaijan was in the middle of. You cook a ton of the stuff and give it to your friends and neighbors. They tried to explain to me how to make it and showed me everything they were doing. And then we sat down and shared a bowl of this super yummy stuff.
After the ash break, I returned to my apartment with Ziyad, my landlady's husband, for the next phase of door installation - cementing the fancy new metal door in. Always the yaxsi qiz, I got them tea. Always the conscientious Azeris, they lectured me that it was too cold and made me put on more sweaters.
When the cementing was done, Ziyad and I cleaned up the debris and I was informed that I should be back at their house at 6 o'clock for supper. One if the conversations I had had with Hegiget and the xanims was how much I like Lankaran meals - especially Lavangi. Lavangi is stuffing made with walnuts, onoins, and this paste stuff. It is delicious. There are many different types of lavangi - chicken lavangi, fish lavangi, eggplant lavangi, you gewt the idea. Since that is what she was making for supper that night, they insisted that I not cook and come join them for the meal.
Dinner was bird lavangi. Bird is winter bird. Probably pheasant or quail or something. Sadly, I don't really like bird. Honestly, I think its gross. But I do love lavangi. I was able to eat a lot of lavangi and rice and smother the bird in qatiq (essentially plian yogurt) to nake it edible.
The dinner wasn't anything fancy or special - it was just a family meal. Usually azeris pull out all the stops for guests. But they didn't treat me like a guest. I was just a part of the family. And that was very cool.
After supper and tea, Hegiget walked me home. When I walked through my fancy new metal door and sat down and reflected on my day, I was just completely content. Being a part of their family for the day. Knowing that they think of me as a part of the family. Seeing how much they care about me and my safety and my happiness. Remembering the truly good things about Azerbaijan and why I love this place.
About a week after the car-full-of-stupid-boys event, I got a call from my landlady. One of the benefits of being a yaxsi qiz (good girl) living in the fishbowl is that when something even slightly bad happens, everyone knows and everyone wants to take care of you.
So, my landlady. On this particular Friday night about a week later, she called me to tell me that the next day they were coming over to install a fancy new metal door so that, and I quote (well, I translate and quote), "the bad boys can't get me and I won't be scared." I didn't know that I was scared, but whatever. I'll take a fancy new metal door.
Saturday morning, my landlady's husband showed up with the new door and a couple of guys to install it. Very quickly my old wooden door with the Coca Cola sticker was gone and the work began to install the fancy new metal door. While the guys were banging and hammering and chunks of cement were falling, my phone rang. My landlady, asking to speak to her husband. When he got off the phone, he told me to go over to their apartment right away to eat. Ohhhhh Kaaaay. Sure.
When I got there, Hegiget (my landlady) was in the kitchen with 3 other xanims, her daughter-in-law, and her 2 year old grandson. They were making ash (with a long "a"). Ash is milk porridge. It tasted a lot like rice pudding to me. While they were cooking, I sat down, had some tea and just got to chat with them. There was, of course, lots of them talking about me, but there was also a really great conversation. They explained that the ash was part of a religous holiday Azerbaijan was in the middle of. You cook a ton of the stuff and give it to your friends and neighbors. They tried to explain to me how to make it and showed me everything they were doing. And then we sat down and shared a bowl of this super yummy stuff.
After the ash break, I returned to my apartment with Ziyad, my landlady's husband, for the next phase of door installation - cementing the fancy new metal door in. Always the yaxsi qiz, I got them tea. Always the conscientious Azeris, they lectured me that it was too cold and made me put on more sweaters.
When the cementing was done, Ziyad and I cleaned up the debris and I was informed that I should be back at their house at 6 o'clock for supper. One if the conversations I had had with Hegiget and the xanims was how much I like Lankaran meals - especially Lavangi. Lavangi is stuffing made with walnuts, onoins, and this paste stuff. It is delicious. There are many different types of lavangi - chicken lavangi, fish lavangi, eggplant lavangi, you gewt the idea. Since that is what she was making for supper that night, they insisted that I not cook and come join them for the meal.
Dinner was bird lavangi. Bird is winter bird. Probably pheasant or quail or something. Sadly, I don't really like bird. Honestly, I think its gross. But I do love lavangi. I was able to eat a lot of lavangi and rice and smother the bird in qatiq (essentially plian yogurt) to nake it edible.
The dinner wasn't anything fancy or special - it was just a family meal. Usually azeris pull out all the stops for guests. But they didn't treat me like a guest. I was just a part of the family. And that was very cool.
After supper and tea, Hegiget walked me home. When I walked through my fancy new metal door and sat down and reflected on my day, I was just completely content. Being a part of their family for the day. Knowing that they think of me as a part of the family. Seeing how much they care about me and my safety and my happiness. Remembering the truly good things about Azerbaijan and why I love this place.
Friday, February 13, 2009
A Prolonged Absence...
I want to offer an apology to my fans for my superlong absence from the blogging world. I'd like to say that it was because I was lazy and just didn't feel like writing, but the truth is that I had some technical difficulties. Technical difficulties that involved the power cord for my laptop, the smell of electrical smoke, sparks, and mini flames. None of which you really want anywhere near your computer. Luckily the only thing that suffered any actual damage was the cord...but because my laptop is an antique and because I live in Azerbaijan not America, getting a new cord required extra effort. A lot of extra effort. Mostly on other people's parts. I just had to wait for it to arrive. But that was still annoying.
Anyway. At long last, my new power cord is here and I am back online! Yipeeee!
Special thanks go out to my Mom, my sister Kate, and Bill Lanzenby for getting me back to my regularly scheduled blogging.
Stay tuned for more episodes of the Adventures of Azerbaijane.
Anyway. At long last, my new power cord is here and I am back online! Yipeeee!
Special thanks go out to my Mom, my sister Kate, and Bill Lanzenby for getting me back to my regularly scheduled blogging.
Stay tuned for more episodes of the Adventures of Azerbaijane.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
My Yolka...
Yolka is the Azeri word for evergreen tree. Being a muslim country, they obviously don't celebrate Christmas here, but, not wanting to be left out of all of the festive fun, they have adopted many of the Christmas traditions for their New Years celebration. Shafta Baba – also known as Santa Claus – comes to visit on New Years – and brings toys for children (according to some of my students. Others say he doesn't bring stuff.) New Year's lights and decorations go up in shops and offices. And, they have a yolka, decorated with lights and ornaments and a star on top.
I of course, do celebrate Christmas. It is one of my favorite holidays. Living on my own this year meant that I could go to town with Christmas decorations. I have lights in my window, little decorations sent by my family last year placed strategically around the house. And, more than anything, I wanted a Christmas tree. A result of poverty, boredom, and an overabundance of craft supplies in my home, I didn't go the typical buy-a-fake- tree-and-ornaments-at-the-bazar route, I decided to make my own. The picture you see is the final product.
The “tree” is made of cardboard from old care package boxes and tissue paper. It took me about a day to figure out and put together I made the star – out of that foamy stuff and glitter. The garland also came from camp supplies. The base is the box for my water distiller covered in white felt – also sent for Camp Jane.
The ornaments are from my conversation clubs last week. A few are the examples that I made for the kids, the rest are all from my students. When we did this activity, I had them each make 2 – one to take home and hang on their New Year's tree and one to give to me for my Christmas tree. They loved it! And it was on of the best clubs I've had this year. I have to say that may favorite ornament is the orange ball near the top – it says “Miss Jane beautiful teacher.” So true. A close second are the American and Azeri flags that 2 boys worked on together. I will be bringing a bunch of them home with me.
All in all, I think my yolka is pretty rad. The entire thing is completely free and completely cool.
I of course, do celebrate Christmas. It is one of my favorite holidays. Living on my own this year meant that I could go to town with Christmas decorations. I have lights in my window, little decorations sent by my family last year placed strategically around the house. And, more than anything, I wanted a Christmas tree. A result of poverty, boredom, and an overabundance of craft supplies in my home, I didn't go the typical buy-a-fake- tree-and-ornaments-at-the-bazar route, I decided to make my own. The picture you see is the final product.
The “tree” is made of cardboard from old care package boxes and tissue paper. It took me about a day to figure out and put together I made the star – out of that foamy stuff and glitter. The garland also came from camp supplies. The base is the box for my water distiller covered in white felt – also sent for Camp Jane.
The ornaments are from my conversation clubs last week. A few are the examples that I made for the kids, the rest are all from my students. When we did this activity, I had them each make 2 – one to take home and hang on their New Year's tree and one to give to me for my Christmas tree. They loved it! And it was on of the best clubs I've had this year. I have to say that may favorite ornament is the orange ball near the top – it says “Miss Jane beautiful teacher.” So true. A close second are the American and Azeri flags that 2 boys worked on together. I will be bringing a bunch of them home with me.
All in all, I think my yolka is pretty rad. The entire thing is completely free and completely cool.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
The Layering Begins...
In a few emails recently I have told people that my winter layering of clothing has begun. I'm not quite at all of my layers yet – it has been pretty mild so far, but I know the time is coming quite soon that I'll be back in all of my layers. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to show you exactly what my winter wardrobe entails...
The first layer – long underwear and socks. There comes a point that this layer doesn't get removed until the end of winter. Last year that point was the first or second week of January. I'm pretty sure I finally lost this layer in the first week of March. Maybe the last week of February.
The second layer – tights and a long sleeve t-shirt. Seems gratuitous, but it is indeed necessary.
The third layer – my teacher clothes. Those are my super fancy corduroy pants that I got at the bazar for 10 manat. I stop wearing skirts in about the middle of December. If, for some rare reason I do wear a skirt to school, I add another pair of tights – and if the skirt is long enough, some running pants underneath. But, for the most part, trousers are the way to go in winter. I actually got lectured last year for wearing a skirt when it was “too cold”. And yes, those are Christmas socks.
The outer layer – this stays on throughout the school day – sometimes I might take off the coat, but that's rare. I wear the fingerless gloves at school so I can still write on the blackboard. When I go outside, I have real gloves I put on. The hat and the scarf are pretty much a constant - around the house and even at bedtime. The boots are azeri – notice the super awesome fur lining!
Ev Paltar (house clothes) - at home the teacher clothes get traded for some comfy, warm, lounge wear. This lovely velor ensemble is courtesy of my sister Kara. The azeris absolutely LOVE it.
A constant for walking around on my chilly chilly floors are the slippers I got when I was on vacation in Poland this year. They are possibly one of the best purchases I've ever made. Warm, soft, incredible. I'm hoping I don't get to the point that I'm even sleeping in them, but it is a possibility!
And I have to tell you, even with all of these layers, in the deep dark days of winter, it is still – to quote a friend – f*%^ing cold! So, as you sit in your houses with central heating and gas log fire places, dreaming of White Christmases and hoping for snow days, maybe add a wish for a heat wave in this part of the world :-)
And, send hot chocolate.
The first layer – long underwear and socks. There comes a point that this layer doesn't get removed until the end of winter. Last year that point was the first or second week of January. I'm pretty sure I finally lost this layer in the first week of March. Maybe the last week of February.
The second layer – tights and a long sleeve t-shirt. Seems gratuitous, but it is indeed necessary.
The third layer – my teacher clothes. Those are my super fancy corduroy pants that I got at the bazar for 10 manat. I stop wearing skirts in about the middle of December. If, for some rare reason I do wear a skirt to school, I add another pair of tights – and if the skirt is long enough, some running pants underneath. But, for the most part, trousers are the way to go in winter. I actually got lectured last year for wearing a skirt when it was “too cold”. And yes, those are Christmas socks.
The outer layer – this stays on throughout the school day – sometimes I might take off the coat, but that's rare. I wear the fingerless gloves at school so I can still write on the blackboard. When I go outside, I have real gloves I put on. The hat and the scarf are pretty much a constant - around the house and even at bedtime. The boots are azeri – notice the super awesome fur lining!
Ev Paltar (house clothes) - at home the teacher clothes get traded for some comfy, warm, lounge wear. This lovely velor ensemble is courtesy of my sister Kara. The azeris absolutely LOVE it.
A constant for walking around on my chilly chilly floors are the slippers I got when I was on vacation in Poland this year. They are possibly one of the best purchases I've ever made. Warm, soft, incredible. I'm hoping I don't get to the point that I'm even sleeping in them, but it is a possibility!
And I have to tell you, even with all of these layers, in the deep dark days of winter, it is still – to quote a friend – f*%^ing cold! So, as you sit in your houses with central heating and gas log fire places, dreaming of White Christmases and hoping for snow days, maybe add a wish for a heat wave in this part of the world :-)
And, send hot chocolate.
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