The Square of Hojand

In the beautiful square of Hojand (khujand) is this mosque. Leave a comment if you have information to share. I think it's called the Juma mosque...But on a side note, I was impressed that Hojand actually has pigeons. Dushanbe itself has NO pigeons, only pretty little doves. At first I thought they were baby pigeons, but actually they are beautiful birds...is it because the altitude is too high here for pigeons?

Soviet remnants

I really enjoyed Hojand if only because I could photgraph rather unusual and inexplicable remnants of the Soviet Union -- most notably this large red sickle and hammer. I like the fact that it's now used as a bulletin board, with flyers taped up. Perhaps that's why it has remained all these years. I wish I had had more time there as Hojand is still known and appears as a Soviet city. There were many great monuments and Communist artifacts to photograph.

Schools and Internet Centers

Hello again,
The resident coordinator of our program was previously involved with setting up numerous internet centers throughout the country, with aid assistance from the US government (through relief international). Here you can see one of those centers with a prominent American and Tajik flag display. All of them running on US assistance have large american eagles and flags reminding the Tajiks where the money's coming from. I have found some of these centers to be excruciatingly slow...but some computer is better than no computer. :)
There's a good website you check out on this: http://www.schoolsonline.org/

I was a coward...

I have to admit that when I saw this bridge, I didn't want to cross the river....this bridge was near a rest-stop oshkhone (restaurant) that we saw on the way to Ayne...I prefer to not cross scary bridges when I can enjoy the smells of local cuisine instead.

Inside the Bazaar of Hojand

In the few short hours of our stay in Hojand, I went to the Bazaar - This is a photo of the inside of the Bazaar - in the nuts section. We tried many kinds of dried fruits and nuts. The best pistachios that everyone had a hard time selling (cause they were so expensive by Tajik standards) had come from Iran - by the hands of traveling Tajiks. They did not taste nearly as good as the pistachios I had in Iran, so I felt bad that the Iranians, due to logistics, are hogging their best dried fruits and nuts.

Fountains and Lenins

Just as we were running for the airport in Hojand we came across a palace, apparently modeled after Saint Petersburg's style, and I believe built in the 60s. Please leave a comment if you're acquainted with its history. Lots of Tajiks love to get married here because it's very beautiful with the fountain. There's a huge statue of Lenin right in front though, which I would imagine would partly kill the romantic atmosphere for a wedding. I would post that statue here but perhaps you are already tired of Lenin...

our plane

My apologies that these pictures from our trip to Hojand are totally out of order -- this computer is in Russian and I'm in a rush to get to class. This is a photo of the old Soviet plane we took to get back to Dushanbe. If you're a plane expert and can identify it, please leave a comment. It sat about 40 people and looked quite rickety inside. I have to admit I was terrified, but I'm always scared of planes. Once upon a time in Alaska with my grandparents I was content to fly in a 4-person plane, but no more!
This was a fun plane trip because we boarded the plane through the rear...

Gaaowww....(cooow)

We saw some cows along the way in this village by the river....

small villages along the way to Hojand

The mountain views were stunning. We occasionally came upon small villages where everyone would wave and the children would run after us. Lots of people ride donkeys here (including myself - and I will have to get those photos for you). It's always funny to see two or three people on one poor little donkey. I liked this little village, it reminded me of some of Iran but the houses were made of different material... not, for example, carved out of the rocks themselves...

We drove to Hojand (280km?) in a van that sits 14 more or less comfortably. It was a big vehicle and barely fit on the mountain roads that were basically just rock ledges. The whole way there were signs for falling rocks and we were amazed at the trucks and old russian cars that travel this pass. It was almost as scary as the time I went from Pristina to Durres, Albania by bus --- through the north of Albania with their narrow roads over mountain drops. I understand that this road through the mountains will soon be closed because they are building a tunnel that will open this year...we may have been some of the last foreigners to have traveled these winding mountain roads.

Back from the cold and sneezing two hundred times a day

This was a picture of the "44 springs" that I wanted to post before and ...that we went to last week. Just now we've returned from a three day adventure to the mountain passes on our way to Hojand, the second largest city in Tajikistan. We slept the first night in a small town called Ayni and then in Istaravshan. From Istaravshan we went by car to Hojand. We visited the city of Hojand for a few hours and then took a plane back to Dushanbe. It was a long three days but I really got to see more of this amazing and beautiful country. There are so many photos I would love to share with you and I will do my best despite the slow internet connection. I didn't realize on the way to Ayni how cold it would be up in the mountains (despite the fact that my host father told me there would be snow) and so the major memory from this trip is a horrid cold....

Shartuz

Hi Again,

The trip to Shartuz was fun! It was only a three hour ride up there and with the car windows open, it never felt too bad. Of course, whenever the car stopped the heat moved in fast. I will post photos of Shartuz tomorrow probably, but I'd have to say it wasn't as much of an oasis or paradise as I'd wanted...it was VERY crowded and the woman's swimming section was really NOT pleasant. I'm used to seeing women get the second best all the time but this was too different --- especially since the water flowed to the woman's part and so there was a lot of garbage there that had floated in from where the men and boys were....the facilities at the hot springs are really rudimentary and it would only take some small investment to get things cleaned up....the water though remains remarkably clear and pleasant despite the masses of people who abuse it. There were thousands of fish (big and little) swimming in the water along with snakes....We set up some carpets and a sofreh, ate three watermelon and my host mother made osh for everyone. I don't think this group trip would have worked without my aggressive go-get-em host family. They're awesome. I'll write more and post pictures tomorrow (god willing).

I finally realized...

I finally discovered last night what it means to be in Dushanbe, and I finally came to the realization that I really am so so so far from home. At 10:30 or so last night, my host parents asked me something about going to the "lab-e dariya" or the shore of a river, and I was like "sure, why not" - which was the first time after a twelve hour day I expressed enthusiasm about anything. Within half a minute they were out of the living room, had rolled up the house carpets and were going down the stairs with a watermelon, knives and the house's shabby carpets. I hadn't actually expected to be going there THAT night, right then and there. But sitting out on the rocks with a small stream/river running by us, eating watermelon, and falling asleep under the stars was just brilliant. We hadn't even bothered to change out of our house clothes. The "kuhestani" house guest wasn't invited along unfortunately because there wasn't enough room in the car - even the mother had to keep her 12 year old son and 16 year old sons on her lap (I mean actually ON her lap)...Today it seems hotter than the 45 degrees it was yesterday and one of the professors tried to get me to believe that it's 55 degrees outside...if that were the case, I really believe I wouldn't be breathing. Oh, the Kuhestani (the guest/family member who stays at our house while studying who says he's from Kuhestan, haha, which just means mountain village) is leaving and I'd have to say that this really makes me sad -- as he's really the only person there who understands my Farsi (this is a relief because apparently he's going to be teaching Farsi in the schools after he graduates). Otherwise, tomorrow we're going to Chartus to see hot springs(?) - honestly, I have no idea what to expect and I'm not looking forward to driving somewhere that's reportedly always ten degrees hotter than Dushanbe - with five in a car. Yuk!! I have no idea why I agreed to this...but it will be a large group and apparently swimming there is awesome and it's a great place for handicrafts - Dushanbe is only good for imports...and bad chinese imports at that. Life otherwise is moving slowly and steadily....I'm glad I finally realized that I'm in Dushanbe...It usually takes a month when I'm in a new place to realize where I am/how far from the U.S. I am and to really appreciate the beauty.

Must remember my camera...

Yesterday I walked home from Rudaki street for an hour and saw a tremendous lot I'd love to photograph and share with you. The impetus for always carrying my camera, though, was the pickup truck parade with soldiers packed into it. They were so tightly squeezed in that it seemed they couldn't even move their arms. It's so hot today that even the posch internet cafe seems warm to me and i've removed my modest long-sleeved clothing.
On another note, Dushanbe is thus far the only place I have been where my eyes sting after I accidentally get shower water in them...that's how unfiltered the water seems to be....not to mention that I have seen algae and fish poo floating in it as well...Oh well, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger. I just get slightly irritated when my host family tells me that Tajikistan's water is great and clean enough for everyone to drink. I'm very good at saying NO. It has always been my instinct to refuse things I don't like...some of my colleagues/classmates here are unable to really draw the line at some things. This morning I flatly said, NO, to the boiled milk with flour and oil that when boiled smells like fish. If a tajik reader could tell me the name of this dish, I'd be very happy, cause I keep getting different names from people around me. I have also said NO to hot dogs for breakfast. One girl has been eating two every morning and she now has a Parasite....Yuk!
Later///

45 degrees???

Hello everyone,

I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying these posts. I will try to take more photographs and write more stories. It's hard to keep focused on sharing experiences of Tajikistan when the weather is so brutally hot and the food leaves you ill for days on end. Today we encountered two amazing Dutch people. They have gone from Amsterdam to Turkey by bike, went through Iran, and then Turkmenistan and now around central asia for a few weeks. They have been on their bikes for eight months or so already. their website is www.buurma.nl
So, I think my last run-in with 'traveler's stomach' was fromt the ketchup at the Turkish restaurant. I cannot explain for the life of me WHY I suddenly decided to eat ketchup...in my entire life, I have never liked ketchup and all of a sudden, I chose to eat like four tablespoons of ketchup with my fries...!! My host mother last night in a typical Tajik fashion decided that the solution to an upset painful stomach would be to eat fried rice (osh)...But for those americans who are unaccustomed to eating with their hands, when you're sick, watching people eat with their hands and licking fried rice off their hands is not really helpful.

So, I've had a run-in with all of my classmates here about the nature of the Tajik and Persian languages. They won't even let me express my opinion anymore about this...somehow they think that I believe the languages are two separate ones. I have never said this, nor do I believe this. It's quite clear that linguistically they are like 95% the same. My problem has been quite plain and simple...when I speak the basic/intermediate Persian language that I learned in Tehran, people here do not understand me. If I say in Persian, I would like a piece of watermelon, for example, at least three words or sounds will be different enough that the average Tajik won't understand. Therefore, whether or not the languages are sufficiently similar that they each can read Hafez, I couldn't care less, my point is that basic sentences about what I want to eat do or see cannot always readily be understood. I have to either bump my level up to Hafez or dumb it down to kindergarten words. Nonetheless, because most of my classmates either speak at the level of Hafez or have studies Tajik for a year, they don't want to hear that there actually are vocabulary differences...

watermelon time.

Here's a photo from the dinner we had with Garth. These are two of my host brothers looking silly while eating watermelon and watching football (before the power would go out in the last seconds). These are two of the friendly brothers. I have four host brothers here....and the second oldest has been nothing but english english english language, despite the rules of the program. We had two whole watermelons at that dinner....I've cut back on the melons after being told they're "chemichiski" (chemical?) until mid July... They are getting so delish just about now though....american watermelons are just pathetic! The problem is that my host family doesn't accept that I don't eat an entire one just myself....they think I'm an "elevator" as my grandmother calls people who can just eat and eat and eat. :) I've resorted to firm / slightly rude refusals to get them to stop piling food on my plate again as soon as I've finished. I think you either become huge here or lose a tremendous amount of weight from the heat, sicknesses, and water...

Lenin Park

Here's a photo of me and some of the "peer tutors" who are supposed to help us with Tajik/Persian (though they don't even speak Persian) and show us around the city. Behind me is another Lenin (in Lenin Park)... The sneakers you see me wearing have been confiscated by my host sister so she can go dancing with me...I bought the cheapo dance slippers and she gets my reeboks. I'm sorry I look a little sick and bloated in this photo, after all, this was the height of my week long illness from the food. I think I look less puffy now.

meat anyone??

Here's the photo of me in the kitchen with the strange carcass that appeared on Friday evening (which I wrote about below on July 1/yesterday). I'm really glad I had that head lamp so that during the blackout my host mother could still chop it up and see it go to refrigeration. They now all want head lamps mailed from the U.S. as presents. I'm seriously horrified by the conditions of meat refrigeration...I think this is why the meat is fried for hours.
Again, this is the house dress (I'm sorry I'm wearing this so often in my photos). I've ordered another house dress too...which should be arriving soon from the tailors.

Lenin is everywhere!

Hi, One of my many goals in Tajikistan is to take lots of photos with Lenin!! I think it's awesome that he's still everywhere, and that there's still a Lenin park. I talked a little about this below, but here's a photo of me with Lenin at the old Soviet kids camp that I visited last week. This particular Lenin somehow after a second glance didn't look so Leninesque... :)

At home.

Here's a photo of me at home with my host mom. We're having dinner with Garth who came over on Friday to check up on my home situation. I think it was a relative success, except that Garth got into a huge argument with host father who was trying to demand where American Councils should take us on weekend excursions.

correction--

Hi,
the woman to my right wasn't my host mother after all. Here is a picture of my host mother. I see her as a Central Asian version of my friend Ritaly's mother -. You can see from this picture that she's very kind, very traditional, and a tough woman. :)
She's

Dachas

It's been a nice weekend, but maybe some of you are wondering what I'm doing in Tajikistan. Well, I'm studying with 10 americans, from all over the U.S.. I am in the Persian/Tajik language section. There are five of us studying either Persian or Tajik. Every day I have three hours of Persian language, taught by a nice Tajik man - only problem is his accent - which for me is sometimes incomprehensible. But this helps me understand better the standard Tehran accent that I am used to. During the afternoons, I try to do some language homework, have a lunch, work on my thesis for Iran and then go to dance class. Two days a week I take classical Tajik dancing and the other three days I have an arabic dance class. In another life, with a different body and stamina level, I'm sure I was a dancer. This weekend, we went to the countryside, about 45 minutes outside of Dushanbe. That was really fun...and so relaxing, because a river flowed just outside the dacha. The sound of a river for 24 hours has changed my mood entirely. I learned to play backgammon and compiled a list of vocabulary. We also discussed host family problems and how one of the girls got driven outside of town by a cabdriver and almost kidnapped. I think we all have these kinds of stories from every city we've lived in. The night we slept at the dacha was really cool and pleasant and the first night after which I didn't wake up drowning in my own sweat. In fact, I used a blanket and needed it... Today it's 95 degrees again...
Near the dacha was a little village with houses that had the most amazingly green orchards of apple and cherry trees. The lovely families came out to the road to greet us, take pictures and share their delicious apples. There were half-starved cows along the road munching at grass. We enjoyed the views of terraces of squash plants. because Tajikistan is so rural, if you drive for an hour you can see everything from rice patties to corn fields to wheat to squash. It's brilliant. I think it's really important when you visit a new country to take a few days and rest. It was fun to watch the world cup games last night, although both outcomes for me were a little disappointing...--I hope all my friends studying for the bar exams back home are not too stressed. I really don't look forward to the bar exam next summer. I've taken law school too easy to be ready for such a challenging exam.
The picture that you see above is part of my extended family. I am wearing a Tajik housedress. The woman to the right of me is my host mother. The woman to my left is my Tajik host grandmother. To the left of her is my host mother's sister. We are sitting where we had dinner - a nice cloth they set out for our food which was a big Plof., rice with carrots and chickpeas, fried.

Well, apparently, I've gotten in trouble for a few things while I've been living in this host family, and one of them was when I didn't stand for the host father when he came to the dinner table. I sort of knew that I supposed to, but it was 10pm and I'd been up since six, and since I knew I could get away with it, I decided to protest in a subtle way. After all, we don't stand for the mother when she walks in, and she definitely does just as much work in and outside the house.
This weekend we're taking a group trip to a dacha in the mountains or something. But apparently, it's just an excuse for most of us to get away from our host families. I definitely don't mind... Yesterday, the power went out, and kudos to Zahra, if I hadn't brought my head light (on her suggestion) the entire house would have been black because they (and the store) had run out of candles. Furthermore, there was a calf (or sick cow) carcass on the kitchen table which had been there for hours and my host mother was claiming she couldn't chop it up and refrigerate it until the lights came back on. I put the head lamp on her head, and off the meat went to a better place...or at least somewhere where flies weren't swarming it. Disgusting, is the only thing I can say. The director of the program came to visit my host family yesterday, we had stuffed peppers and chickpea soup. Pretty good, I must say. We then went to a soviet era hospital, where a cousin or distant relative is staying. He was living with us at the beginning, and always very kind, so I accompanied them to the hospital, where I must unfortunately say, the entrance smelled like sewage. The place where the patients were staying smelled like they had burnt incense in order to cover the sewage smell...but the guy we visited really needed company, I presumed, so I dared baring the smell and the scary nurses...
(pictures to come, really!!!)