A Notable Cultural Exchange

I decided to ditch my normal fifth grade English lesson last week and give a civics lesson instead. It was the first day back to school after Obama was sworn in as the president, and I wanted to try to explain to them the significance of the event, as several students had commented on it to me. I had to oversimplify quite a bit, and I know that I botched some of the dates that I gave them, but my overall history lesson was based around the history of racial inequality in America and how Obama’s presidency is a symbol of overcoming our ugly history. I think they got it for the most part, and I think they thought it was pretty cool. The conversation changed a little bit when they started asking me questions.

The first one was about whether or not Obama is a Muslim or not, which I’ve learned since then is a debate here, too. I tried to explain that he isn’t, and about the lineage of his name. Sometimes, when students ask me about this, they still have a hard time understanding how a guy named Hussein isn’t a Muslim. I do my best to explain, but sometimes the concept of religious plurality can be too much for kids to understand.

Anyway, the next questions that came up were real tough. I’ll also preface this by saying that I am really glad I had this conversation with my kids. Somehow the question, “what do americans think of muslims?” came up. Talk about damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

What do you tell a room full of muslim kids about the american national sentiment towards muslims? The nuances of the topic were too difficult for me to explain, and I didn’t just want to blanket the topic with a generalization, but my hand was forced. “Everybody is different,” I told them, “but a lot of Americans don’t like Muslims.”

“Why not?” They asked.

“Because,” I paused to think of a sensible way to say this: “they think that they are terrorists.”

I winced as I explained this, but I was totally relieved when they all started laughing. It’s like they understood how absurd the whole situation is and gave me a collective “That’s silly.” It was nice to see their reactions because it also reminded me how far removed they are from the serious situations that exist in the world. They’re just kids.

I told them that it was really embarrassing for me to tell them that, but that Americans can be ignorant people sometimes. The inevitable “Why?” came up after I explained this, and I went into a short explanation of September 11th. Most of the kids new about it (these kids were about 3 when it happened), but I filled them in on some details.

We ran out of time, but I think they came away knowing a little bit more about America, how it can be a really ugly place, and how it can be a cool place, too. Still, after an interesting conversation on a very heavy topic, I was pleased (rather than disappointed) that the fact that aroused the most interest in the class was that the world trade center buildings were 110 stories tall. That really blew them away.  I could see myself getting bothered by the fact that they were paying such attention to a side note, but it reminded me that these guys are just kids and that they can only take so much in one day.

January 20th in Azerbaijan

While the day of January 20th was a day of celebration, it was a day of mourning in Azerbaijan.  I wanted to mention this, as I figured that a fair amount of people who visit this blog are interested in learning more about Azerbaijan.  As my counterpart told me, “January 20th is the worst day for Azerbaijani people.”  Global Voices Online, which consistently turns out insightful posts about the Caucuses, offers a short description of the day.

As many around the world celebrated the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States, Azerbaijan mourned the 19th anniversary of an event which ultimately led to its independence from the former Soviet Union. As Moscow’s power over its satellites weakened, nationalism emerged, and in the South Caucasus ethnic tensions would soon erupt into war between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh.

From my understanding, under the guise of halting the ethnic conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia, the Soviet Union military came in to Baku and killed demonstrators indiscriminately.  Some, including Human Rights Watch, thing that military assault on Baku wasn’t to stop any ethnic conflict, but to squash an anti-communist, pro-independence movement.  GVO continues:

Indeed, HRW and other independent observers conclude that the intervention was staged not to protect ethnic Armenian residents in the city, but to prevent the victory of pro-independence political forces in elections scheduled for the following month. At least 130 people were killed and 700 wounded in what is now known as “Black January,” a day which marks a defining moment in the rebirth of the former Soviet republic.

I think that last sentence is really important.  For many, it is an obviously dark day that is thought of as a national tragedy.  However, I think it’s important that people realize that this was the beginning of independence for Azerbaijan as well.  It can be taken as a case of hope stemming from tragedy.

Being American just got… better

In every experience I’ve had abroad, whether it was in Seoul, Thailand, Sarajevo, or here in Azerbaijan, telling people that I’m American has always been a bit tricky. Some of that comes from the rhetoric Americans are taught as they come up through the school system. Kids in school are taught that water freezes at 32 degrees and America is the greatest country in the world. Growing up and realizing that this might not be the case can be tough to understand. Going abroad and realizing that some people can hold quite negative views of the U.S. can be equally as shocking. A lot of this has come down to George W. Bush.

I remember a conversation I was having with a German woman in Thailand where I told her that I don’t like being an American abroad because people always want to talk about politics with you. As if on cue, another German dude came over (in a Yankees cap) and asked where I was from. I said, “America” and he instantly pointed his finger at my chest and said “Tell your president to follow the law.” Since then, I respond to the “where are you from” question first with a deep exhale, and then with an admittance of being American.

Being put in this position has made me oddly defensive. I have found myself defending Bush abroad, when I never would do so back in America, simply because I think that people hate on America because it’s the cool thing to do, without any understanding of politics, or specifically, American politics.

In Croatia this past summer, while sitting on a sidewalk in Dubrovnik, a guy walked past and sat next to me. We exchanged greetings, to reveal that I was indeed American and he was Dutch. Without hesitating, he said “I think America is fake.” What kind of a jerk would say this upon meeting someone? I walked away from him, told him something that wasn’t particularly witty, and was really offended. Am I fake? My friends and family? Someone could come up to me, be incredibly rude like that, and yet I was the one to be scolded because I’m from America (I mentioned these stories to a girl I met, and she told me, “Try being Israeli.” Good point).

All this changed yesterday when Barack Obama was sworn is as the President of the United States. I listened to the inauguration on the radio, and I would have loved to been in America yesterday. Being abroad in Azerbaijan made me feel disconnected from a great national moment that holds a once-in-a-generation ability to unify the country. But even though it would be great to be in America right now, the beginning of Obama’s presidency has just made my life overseas much easier.

Rather than worrying about being bombarded with questions about George Bush, I’ll be more than willing to discuss how great it is that Obama is now our president. I have a feeling that the conversation is about to steer from the harm that America causes the world, to a discussion about the positive role that America will again play in the global community.

Being a part of Obama’s Peace Corps is already way better than Bush’s Peace Corps.

Why I’m Here Pt. 2

A couple of weeks ago, I ran out of ideas for my classes.  I had an eighth grade class to teach and our class textbook, which is famously dull, offered nothing in the way of guidance.  On a whim, I remembered that one of my students said that she wants to be a journalist, so I had the class practice asking questions.  After a short overview of the 5 Ws and how to ask open questions, I told them that they could ask me any question they wanted.

There was a range of questions, from the standard, “What Azerbaijani food do you like?” to a little more thoughtful, “Do you like it here?” and “Do you miss your friends and family?”  I was honest with them and explained that being here can be very difficult.  I told them that I think like I do back in America, but here I can only express myself like a child.  Not understanding what people say, let alone, why they are saying it is only slightly less burdensome than not having people understand my own words and actions.  I think they understood what I was talking about, even though I don’t think they could really grasp the idea.

A later question was said in both jest and seriousness: “Will you miss us?”  It’s a topic that I’ve thought about a little bit here and there but has been coming up more recently in my inner-monologue.  I said that of course I would miss them.  I’ve spent to years of my life working with them, watching them grow, and getting to know them.  To think that one day I’ll just walk out of here and doesn’t seem real to me.  Leaving America was easy because I always knew I would come back.  Leaving Ujar (I’m in disbelief as I type this, here’s why), is going to be really mess with my head because I know that I’ll never see these people again.

I got a little emotional talking about the whole thing with them.  It was one thing to just think about these things, and then counterbalance the weight of leaving this place with the fact that America is going to give me familiarity and comfort that I lacked for two years.  But sitting there in the classroom, looking at them all in the eyes when I said this was really kind of heavy.

Any reader of this blog would know that I don’t exactly have a sunny disposition.  I’ve been called a pessimist and a hater, and even though I try to temper my thoughts on this blog and write fair and controlled posts, I’ve been told by people who have read it that, “not exactly optimistic.”

Maybe it’s the new year or maybe I’m overcompensating for the long, dark winter, but I can say this unequivocally:  I love my students.

They are incredible people.  From the younger ones who don’t quite understand how different I am from everyone else, to the older students who are turning into their own people with hopes and dreams.  I’m lucky to have come across them in this world.

What happened to Jeff and why is someone else writing on his blog, you’re probably asking yourself.  I know some of this probably sounds corny, and maybe even a little forced, but it’s really how I feel.  How could I not when one of the girls in my seventh grade class approached me at school and handed me this:

You’d have to have ice running through your veins not to find this adorable.

At the end of the school year I’m going to have to figure out what every teacher must go through and figure out that these kids are going to go on without me.

8 months to go

I can’t decide if it’s a long time until I’m done here or if it’s no time at all.

What do you think?

PC Anywhere

I talked with my friend who is in Peace Corps Paradise the other day. By Paradise, I mean it’s a place where I would take a lavish vacation and come home raving about. At least that’s what I thought.

For those that aren’t so familiar with the Peace Corps processes, we don’t get to choose where we go. There can be suggestions, or a regional preference, but PC is pretty adamant about not being a travel agency. I think they over play this card a little bit, but in the end it’s about the mission, not the position, so where we end up shouldn’t matter.

Still, some places are going to have a draw, and others aren’t. Think about it: Uzbekistan or Fiji? I don’t know about everyone else, but Fiji is much higher up on my destination list.

With Azerbaijan being chosen for me, I didn’t feel like I could fall back on “well, this is where I chose to be,” when I got frustrated with cultural differences or extreme weather. It happened a lot in the beginning of service, but I would think, “If I was just in a different PC program, none of this would be happening to me. I’d be a lot happier.”

As I was going over this with a friend of mine, he said something like “Are you still bitter that you weren’t born into a rich family?” It was a great metaphor, because even though you can romanticize another kind of lifestyle and how a few changes in details could make all your problems go away, ultimately, that will do you no good. You must play with the hand you are dealt. That is the attitude I’ve taken here since that conversation.

Fast forward through the past year to a couple days ago to my conversation with the fellow PCV in PC Paradise. All of the issues she was having as a volunteer (she’s at a much earlier stage in her service) were the same ones I went through. This makes sense, as the roller coaster of PC life is a well documented process, but a lot of the issues that she was having with paradise itself sounded like the same complaints PCVs have about this place. While trying to remain sympathetic, it was a great thing for me to hear. I think it really cemented in the idea that Peace Corps is Peace Corps, and where you are is simply a detail.

The New Oil

I don’t know enough about it to really back this up with too much, but I strongly believe that water is the new oil. By this I mean it’s a vital, yet increasingly scarce resource that people take for granted.

While I was living with my host family last year, we had Al-Jazeera English on the satellite and they had this little blurb about how much water the average citizen of various countries use and I was shocked to learn that for Americans, the number is something like 230 litres a day, while the average Indian uses about three.

Here in Azerbaijan, my water consumption has gone way down. It fluctuates at various times, but with no dishwasher or shower, the amount of water I’m using is only a fraction of the average American. And now, since my pipes have broken from the big snow storm, I can’t get water in my house at the moment. This has meant a huge change in my water-consuming lifestyle.

If I were to guess, I’d say I’m using about a gallon of water a day. I go out to the yard and fill up a little bucket and use that here and there for various daily tasks. Dishes (after being used several times) are done with a minimal amount of water and rinsed as efficiently as possible (which is amazingly tedious). Brushing me teeth involves one cup water. As for showering, well… what exactly is that? I’m down to a bucket bath (about two gallons of water) about once a week. I haven’t washed my clothes in a really, really long time.

So what does this all mean? I imagine myself being back in America being completely shocked every time I turn on the faucet. Putting my clothes in a washing machine is going to feel like I’ve found a secret treasure. And flushing a toilet? Fuggedaboudit.

The interesting thing about this change in lifestyle is that adjusting isn’t that hard. I don’t think I’m any more easy going than most other people, but I’d say that humans simply adapt, and it comes more naturally than most people would assume. I’m just going with the flow.

Yet this same adjustment to my surroundings will happen when I finish here and return to the U.S., so even though I might be in disbelief to see hot water come out of the tap, I’ll be damn sure to use it and most likely, use it frequently. So even though I doubt that this experience of water-reduction is going to have a huge impact on my water consumption over the span of my lifetime, I’d like to think that this experience that I’m going through right now will at least make me appreciate the luxury of having water on demand.

An Interesting Link

Here’s a wikipedia link with the International Rankings of Azerbaijan.

On the bottom of the page there are a bunch of interesting links to various lists of countries ranging from Happiness rankings to the legal status of cannibus.

Day of Ashura [Updated]

On my way to school this morning I noticed way more people out and about than normal, particularly for such a cold day. People were dressed in black, which, although it is the normal color of choice for clothing, seemed to indicate that there was some sort of national mourning going on. I assumed it had to do with a dark day in Azerbaijan’s history, but when I talked to my counterpart, I realized that today was the Day of Ashura.

Such a wide observance of the day of mourning for Imam Hussein seems to be somewhat at odds with a conversation I had last night about how secular it seems to be here. The best answer I can give is that here, like in America, everyone is different when it comes to religion. I have had enough different experiences with enough different people here in Azerbaijan to understand that, while this place can easily be classified as a Muslim country, the degree of participation depends heavily on the individual.

Update:  I came across a Slate Explainer article about the self-mutilation that is associated with the Day of Ashura.  There’s some pretty crazy stuff going on out there, none of which I saw here.  Not that it necessarily means that it didn’t happen, but I would be really, really surprised if it did.

Also, a Global Voices Online post discusses some observations of Azerbaijan made online (including mine) during Ashura.

Can’t Be More in Line

A Major League Soccer team in Portland.  I would love to see this happen. As of right now, I can’t think of a reason why it shouldn’t.

Go Timbers.