New for 2008

I linked to the 2007 version of the Reporters Without Borders Annual Press Freedom Index.  Now, the new version has come out, and I wanted to post a link to the 2008 version here.

The new version starts with a headline suggesting peace promotes journalistic freedom more than a robust economy, or even democracy.

It is not economic prosperity but peace that guarantees press freedom. That is the main lesson to be drawn from the world press freedom index that Reporters Without Borders compiles every year and from the 2008 edition, released today. Another conclusion from the index – in which the bottom three rungs are again occupied by the “infernal trio” of Turkmenistan (171st), North Korea (172nd) and Eritrea (173rd) – is that the international community’s conduct towards authoritarian regimes such as Cuba (169th) and China (167th) is not effective enough to yield results.

I can’t help but think that the whole ’spreading of democracy’ thing that was so favorable to the bush administration and the west in general might have turned out differently if their aim wasn’t to spread  governmental and economic systems, but rather a peaceful way of life.  Lesson learned?

Of course, the United States and Azerbaijan are on the list.  See if you can find them. (Hint: Neither is in the top 10.)

Around the World

Here are a couple links to help you learn about this place I’m living known by some as “The Land of Fire.”

First, here’s a link to a page from the website Global Voices Online.  It seems to be a blog that focuses on online-conversations taking place across the globe.  The page highlights some of the PCVs blogs in Azerbaijan, including this one, and the spat between myself and the socially-repressed commenter who shall remane nameless.

Here’s an article by the NYTimes, the first one I’ve seen about Azerbaijan in the paper since I’ve been here.

This country has always had tricky geography. To its north is Russia. To its south is Iran. And ever since the collapse of the Soviet Union it has looked west, inviting American companies to develop its oil reserves and embracing NATO.

…

Azerbaijan, a small, oil-rich country on the Caspian Sea, has balanced the interests of Russia and the United States since it won its independence from the Soviet Union. It accepts NATO training but does not openly state an intention to join. American planes can refuel on its territory, but American soldiers cannot be based here.

Finally, here’s a short write-up about the Azerbaijani school directors and their ability to use computers.  This one hits home to me, because I’ve had a difficult time balancing how the computers at my school are to be used, and the school administration’s acceptance of the technology.

Our school got about 20 computers sometime last year, but they mostly remained locked in a room and unused.  I’ve been working on an English Resource Room with my counterpart, and part of our project is to take one of the unused computers from the lab and put it in our room, in order to add a media component to our lessons.  Surprisingly, this has been met with some resistence.  I tried telling my director that I’ve been using computers for nearly 20 years, and know how to use them in a classroom, but he’s worried that they will be misused and treated poorly.  Thus, they are not used at all.  Many schools have a similar problem.  It seems as though Azerbaijan is making good steps in bringing technology to the schools, but there is still a lot of work to be done when it comes to having a facultly to use these resources to their fullest.

Relationships

I’ve realized why this school year feels so much different than last years’.  I wrote about it a little bit in a post before, but I’ve finally decided that it’s the relationships that I have in the city of Ujar that make this year feel so much better than last year.

Part of it is communication.  I’ve much better at speaking Azeri than I was at this point last year.  I can communicate thoughts and ideas, and most importantly, I’m comfortable doing it.  I think this has led me to be more open with people here, and more willing to engage them in conversation.

In the same vein, I’ve definitely relaxed.  I was dreading coming back to Azerbaijan after my trip to the Balkans.  Truth be told, being here is much easier than it was before I left.  For some reason that i’m still trying to figure out, I’ve been more willing to give people here a pass when they do something that annoying or offensive.

With this new relaxed approach, the school year has been going well.  It’s been great working with the students and my counterparts.  Of course there have been frustrating times (it’s the peace corps), but I’ve dealt with them in a much more mature, seasoned manner.  If the rest of the school year goes like it has this far, I think I’ll leave on a great note.

Unexpected Criticism

On the blog last week, I wrote what I considered to be a good piece about my interaction with one of my students, and my feelings about the situation afterward.  You can read it in the post below this one, or click here.  I was very careful about the language I used, and try to put any judgements I made into context so that the reader understands that I am writing from my perspective (An American Peace Corps Volunteer working in Ujar, Azerbaijan).  Still, I received a comment on the post that really surprised me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it over the weekend.

The commenter goes by the name Atilla, and here is the comment to my post in its entirety:

Hey dude,
I would suggest that you be a little careful about the language you use in describing the Azerbaijani culture and women. Yes my way of living, life style and understanding of honor is much different than American men (thanks to God), but it doesn’t make my culture or way of living abnormal. Indeed it is the american way of living that I found strange, confusing and against the human nature. All americans I found to be extrmely materialist, egoist, and highly immoral. I would suggest you to refrain from assesing cultures and women of other nations. I am proud of being Azerbaijani and being a real men vs. the girly men like creatures in USA who can’t have no understanding of honor and extremly immoral. Soo keep your morale and propoganda for American women. Nobody here wants to listen your “precious” and highly subjective and illogical advise. Focus on teaching English. Anyway not much left for going back to US.

I was really bothered by this, but I couldn’t figure out why.  Was it because the author of the comment was critizing my culture, or because they were critizing my writing?

I reread my piece several times, looking for what might have offended Atilla so much.  I stand by what I wrote, and believe it is a fair assessment of the situation that happened.  My first thought on how I would respond the the criticism was to simply say, “BE MORE SPECIFIC.” 

I couldn’t figure out what Atilla so much, except for maybe the part where I describe Azerbaijani women as being shy and reserved.  I suppose this could be thought of as a negative description, but I do go on to explain that this is the judgement I have come up with in having lived here for over a year, including nine months with an Azerbaijani family.  I find it ironic that Atilla thinks that I am criticizing Azerbaijani women by saying this, when it is in fact the deep-rooted patriarchy that I take issue with.  I think it was this phrase that made Atilla respond by saying “it doesn’t make my culture or way of living abnormal.”  It’s pretty clear that no where in the post did I say describe any part of Azerbaijani culture or the people’s way of life as “abnormal,” and nowhere did I prescribe negative or positive value judgements on anyone or anything, except for my fondness of a particular student, of who I am extremely happy with.

Obviously, the way of life and culture here is different than what I am used to (though I am pretty used to it by now).  Atilla points this out himself by saying that during his time in the United States that he said it was the “american way of living that I found strange, confusing and against the human nature.”  That could have been a great point that being in Azerbaijan presents new and strange experiences for an American, but the same thing happens for Azerbaijanis in America.  It’s the same culture and lifestyle that I find comfortable that makes this person feel uncomfortable.  I would have completely understood that perspective, and it would have been fair.  But instead of stopping there, Atilla decided to try to put me, Americans, and anyone who writes a blog down.

I don’t want to go point by point why I think that this comment was ridiculous and unfounded (by which I mean, I really really want to go point by point to show how dumb I think this is, but I won’t).  However, there are a couple more points I would like to make:

1.  This blog is mine.  I write it and the opinions expressed in the posts are mine.  It is a blog about a U.S. Peace Corps Volunteer in Azerbaijan.  Sometimes I tell stories to paint a picture for those who aren’t here and can’t really understand what it feels like to be here.  Other times, I offer analysis to situations in order to explain what I think is going on in those stories I tell.  If you are reading this, you are either curious to read about what a person in my situation has to say about his or her life, or you came across the blog my accident.  If I were to follow the advice given to my in the comment and keep my opinions to myself, this blog would indeed be quite boring.

2.  Here’s what I think happened.  I could be completely wrong about this, but I’m 95% sure that this Atilla character is a Bakuvian.  When I go to Baku, especially after having spent a long time in the regions, that I’m going to different country.  People move differently.  They act differently and have access to more information, entertainment, and opportunities that those in the regions.  Because Atilla comes from such an environment (again, that’s my assumption), my description of Azerbaijan doesn’t fit the one that he has.  If this is the case, then I can understand why someone might think I was giving an unfair assessment.  Still, I stand by the claim that I don’t think that everyone in Baku is in touch with the situation in the regions.  If the entire country was like Baku, they wouldn’t need Peace Corps Volunteers.  Things are quite different out here,and that not only goes for the development that has taken place over the past few years, but also the mentality of the people and the culture.  So while it may be alright in Baku for young women to do something like go outside by themselves, or use the internet, or take a test to see if they are qualified to study in America for a year, it can be very different situation in the regions.

I wrote this post because I’m curious what others think.  Was my post fair?  I meant it to be a piece about how I felt about a situation, not a criticism of a culture.  What about Atilla’s criticism?  It seemed undeserved and noisy to me.  Most of all I want to know, what do you, the readers, think?

Disappointed and Deflated

Last week was a bit rough.  In general, things are cool.  I’m adjusting to the new school year and my house is coming together, but I went to Mingechiver (about an hour and half away) with one of my students and left feeling pretty bummed out.

My student’s name is Fidan.  She’s awesome.  I met her last year when she was in one of my classes for a little while.  I had never met her before, and during an English lesson, when most of my students are butchering the English language, she answered of my questions by saying “Well, I’m not sure how to answer that.”  It was brilliant.  After she scolded a boy in the class for actin-a-fool, I told her she needed to calm down a little bit.  She responded by saying “Mr. Jeffrey, today I am calm like a cat.” 

“Wow. What are you like when you’re angry?”

“Like a tiger.”

I almost fell down it was so good.  For context, no one in my school speaks English this well.  Not only did she know the words she was saying, but she spoke them with an ease and attitude that was missing from my other students.  In eighth grade, she spoke better English than every other student in the school.  It was great to work with a student who was really developing English skills, rather than simply flirting with the idea of learning English or not.

She also had a great attitude.  Most young Azerbaijani women are shy and reserved, following the be-seen-and-not-heard mentality (this is true at least for young women around men, which by definition how they are around me.  i have heard from female PCVs that they open up and become much more animated around other women.  unfourtunately, I never get to see this).  Fidan was different though. 

As I mentioed in an earlier post, Azerbaijani culture is a mix of Soviet, Turkish, and Persian culture.  Fidan’s family falls on the more ‘rusified’ part of that mix which makes them, and her, seem to have a more western mentality.  She listened to different music, is critical of injustices in society, and has a strong intellectual curiousity.  I thought she would be great student for the FLEX program, which sends students from Eurasia to America to go to high school for a year.

I talked to her before the school year started and told her about the program.  She seemed understandably unsure about the idea of going to America for a year, but I persuaded her and her grandmother that it was a good idea, and that she is a great fit for it.

In preperation, I talked to her about American high schools, about the test, and about what she wants out of life.  These conversation only reaffirmed my appreciation for her, and her wllingness to try something different.  She remained hestient, but came to the conclusion that she would try to do it if for nothing else, but to see if she could.

We went to Ming and made our way through the zoo of students waiting to take the test.  The test is in three parts, the first being held on that day, in which students demonstrate their understanding of English through a multiple choice test.  The next phases were a listening and essay exam, and finally an interview.

I was very excited for her, and paced back and forth outside while she took the exam.  As she came out, she looked at me and gave me a thumbs-down.  “It was too difficult,” she said.  I tried reassuring her that I’m sure she did fine, and that we have to just wait and see how she did, and whether she would be invited back for the next round.

The more we talked though, I could tell she didn’t feel very good about the whole thing.  I think it’s because she didn’t do as well as she thought she should have, and that maybe she wasn’t as good as she had thought she should be, but eventually she said “I don’t want to do it.”  I told her that she did want to do it, but she was facing an obstacle and that she needed to fight through it, but it fell on deaf ears.  Eventually, I saw the look on the face of a kid who just failed a test and I left her alone.

I felt terrible.  I think I wanted this for Fidan more than she wanted it for herself.  I had no idea whether to tell her to keep fighting or that it’s okay not to succeed all the time.  I had completely inflated my expectations for what I ninth-grade kid can be expected to do, and I projected my own feelings and hopes on this girl who was probably outside of Ujar without her family for the first time.  Not only that, but I put a bunch of pressure on her by saying “You’re going to take the test, right?  You want to go to America, right?” rather than, “Do you want to do this?”

Once I had come to this conclusion and gotten over being crushed that she didn’t do very well on the test, I approached her again.  I told her that she should be proud that she tried, and that even though she didn’t pass, she was brave enough to be the only student from our school who had the guts to even try.   ”Maybe that’s important for you, but no one else knows.”  She was right, she went out of a limb because I told her to, and in a way she fell.  I didn’t really know what to say.

“You know what Fidan,” I said, “it doesn’t matter if other people realize it, or not.  All that matters is that you know it, and that you realize that trying to succeed matters.”  I hardly believed the words that were coming out of my own mouth, as I knew it wasn’t going to make anyone feel better.

It was hard for me to try to say anything to her at that point.  This was probably the first time in my adult life that I’ve ever had to talk to a child about being brave or the virtue of “realizing” something when they get older.  I felt like I was patrionizing her, but I really didn’t know anything else to say.

She never got the call to tell her she passed the test and would be invited to the next round.  I’m still a bit disparaged by it, but maybe it wasn’t the right time.  In the end I really am proud of Fidan for taking the test and seriously consider going to America for a year.  It’s a serious consideration, and I know that 90% of my students wouldn’t really want to go, even if they said they did.  I remembered how fragile kids can be at that age, and how they can’t always see the big picture.  I also realized how my aspirations for my students can only go so far.  They need to come from the kids themselves.  Even though it didn’t work out like I had hoped, I think Fidan and I are both better for having gone to Mingechiver last week.