Christmas in Azerbaijan

I was definitely NOT looking forward to spending the holidays here in Azerbaijan, this is not just because Azerbaijan is a Muslim country and does not celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ but also because I have spent two other holiday seasons away from home and although I was in Germany where Christmas is celebrated- and quite tastefully- if you ask me, both were pretty depressing. I looked for vacation escapes but unfortunately my budget did not allow for it.

However, after some contemplation I thought that maybe being here wouldn’t be so bad. The season would pass quietly by without notice because: a. the climate wouldn’t feel like Christmas, being so much closer to the equator b. there would be no giant blow up lawn ornaments c. there would be no overplayed cheesy Christmas carols.
Unfortunately all of these assumptions were false.

Suddenly the weather here turned significantly colder and we actually got some snow last week. But the greatest surprise to me was that Christmas is celebrated here- in a way. Its not considered Christmas- but its part of the New Years celebration. There are ‘New Years Trees’ with bells, lights and awful metallic garland. Santa Clause doesn’t have elves but rather he has a little female helper, “The Snow Girl”. All of the shops paint their windows and the sounds of jingle bells fills the air- well it fills the air next to lit Christmas trees as many of the light strands also play music (if you can call it that)- and Jingle Bells is the most popular song. There are even Gingerbread houses and the best thing yet...yes, even in Azerbaijan,there are giant blow up lawn ornaments.
So have no worries my friends and family! Even though it is called by a different name the spirit of Christmas is alive and well in Azerbaijan!

The details of how I spent my holiday are soon to follow. But first this little taste of the holiday festivities as celebrated in Azerbaijan!!

Happy Holidays!

This explains a lot!

There is not much you can say about a country that cleans with barf!

Ganja Taxi Adventure

Note to Readers! this was actually written about a month ago! sorry for the delay. Its been a month! Reports on my Birthday Party and Christmas are soon to come.

I just got back from a really fun time driving around ganja trying to find a friend of mine to get some keys for another friend of mine.
Normally I avoid taxis here like the plague because I don’t trust the drivers. This is mostly because of warnings from other people including Azeris and not because I have had any particularly bad experiences with taxi divers. Taking a taxi also involves more Azeri language use which I have yet to master even a little. (this is one of the disadvantages to having a job that depends on my English skills)
I had to go to an NGO that is also a vocational school to meet Larry- who is another Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) here who teaches a film class. He is a documentary director and has won several (6, I believe) Emmys for his work. Unfortunately he doesn’t talk about it much so I don’t know the titles. He is also the caretaker of the key to another PCV’s Ganja home (her name is Carol) who is currently in the United States for the Holidays. Yes this is confusing and probably not very interesting but I feel I should clarify a bit.)
This evening another friend of mine who is ALSO a PCV (his name is Mike and he lives/works in Mingachavir a town about an hour and a half northeast of here)wrote to say that he would need a place to stay in Ganja for the weekend and was hoping to stay at Carol’s. I contacted Larry about the key around 9:00 this evening (Thursday) and he said that he was leaving to do some filming for Sheki (see previous blog) the next morning and would be gone until Monday but I could come by the school to pick it up. This sprang me into action realizing that I had to act tonight in order to secure lodging for my friend.
So first I had to go to the little corner store and break a 20 in order to have exact change for the cab. It is always risky not having exact fair because then the Drivers can just say they don’t have change in order to get more money. At the store I asked where this vocational school was located. They all recognized the name but weren’t exactly sure of its whereabouts and mumbled something about it being near the nurse’s college. This was enough to at least talk to a cab driver about. So having small bills to pay a cab I went to the taxi stand and found one lone taxi. I asked the driver if he knew where the school was. He talked like he knew sort of what I was talking about but I could tell he had no idea. He knew where the nurses college was- that was at least a start. But I wasn’t convinced of that so I started to go find another taxi when he got out and ran across the street to the other drivers headed in the other direction and asked all of them. Some minutes later he came back still not sure of where we were going but I thought I would give it a try. An older woman got in too, and he asked her about it and she seemed like she might know where this place was. We headed off in the general direction I thought we should go, when after a few minutes we stopped and asked some more drivers on the side of the road and they all pointed in different directions. The taxi driver nodded and then just kept on. We wove through the dark and narrow pot hole strewn streets of Ganja. I had a sinking feeling we were not headed in the right direction. I tried to text Larry but to my dismay saw that the battery in my phone was almost dead but I managed to squeak in a short SOS message. After a few more twists and turns the taxi driver stopped at a building and said ‘burdadir’ its here. And I looked at the very dark house-like building and said ‘no- this is not it. We paused for a few minutes, then struck out again on another route. After a while we stopped again and this time the old lady got out. Now I was alone with the driver with no idea where I was or where I was going for that matter. The warning beep on my phone reminded me that I only had a few more ounces of juice left before I was truly alone. Then my phone made another noise – a message- from Larry with directions- I was hoping. And directions there were. I quickly memorized them and took down Larry’s number.

I told the driver with my very limited vocabulary – that we had to go by a cemetery near the teacher’s college- since I didn’t know the word for cemetery I was saying things like “we have to go left at the dead people with rocks”. The driver amazingly enough understood. But when we got to the school- no Larry- he was at his apartment. By this time my phone had died. However thankfully the Taxi driver threw me his phone and I called up Larry and got directions to his apartment which luckily was not far from the school. Finally in a few minutes we arrived, made the key exchange and headed back for my home. The driver and I had a good laugh about it- and I gave him a hefty tip-for the craziness of the trip and the use of his phone.

Mission accomplished and I have since overcome my fear of taxis.

Lost in Ganja!

I don’t even have to leave my city in order to have travel mishaps. Not that this one was too grievous but it did cause mild frustration, fear and confusion.
On Monday I was invited to a friend’s house for her birthday. She gave me what I thought were pretty clear directions. I knew which Mashrutka to take and what landmark to get off at. After my classes I went to the bus stop and waited and waited in quite cold temperatures- which I have to remind myself really aren’t that cold- it hasn’t even gotten below freezing yet! But it was so hot that anything below 50 feels like the next ice age is descending upon us. The first Mashrutka that slowed down near the stop was so packed with people that I couldn’t even see in the windows. 15 minutes later I flagged down the next one and began the journey. I had been to my friend’s house before but the first time we walked and the second time we took different number Mashrutka. I sat near the window looking for my landmark- a school but I saw nothing that seemed to resemble such a building.
After about 15 minutes into the drive we entered a residential area around some apartment complexes and the mashrutka stopped and everyone got out. It was the end of the line and I hadn’t seen the school and I had no idea where I was now. I got out and glanced around me as my fellow passengers quickly dispersed into the night. Suddenly I was all alone and the darkness was closing in… okay that’s a little melodramatic but I was a little uneasy because it was dark and women are not supposed to be out after dark and those that are, are considered ‘bad women’ and easy prey.
After a few minutes I took an inventory of my assets and remembered that I had a cell phone. So I called my friend- but the line was busy. All the while I was thinking how was this really going to help because I honestly had no way to tell her were I was. There are hundreds of places that looked just like where I was all over Ganja.
After several attempts I gave up and started walking in the direction that the Mashrutka had disappeared in to. Too my delight I found a much larger road with some stores. However I was a big wimp and didn’t go into the stores to ask directions. First of all I didn’t really know where I was going and I hate asking for directions here because it becomes such a freak show event. So I crossed the street and waited for another mini bus to take me back into town. While I was waiting my friend called me back finally and as I suspected I couldn’t tell her definitively where I was. It is also hard to have any sort of meaningful exchange of information on the cell phones here because the connection is so bad. I basically use my phone just to text message because speaking causes too much confusion.
After everyone hanging around had had a good long stare at the lost little foreigner a bus rescued me and I headed back into town. I felt bad for ditching on my friend but I just wasn’t in the mood for parties anymore. She offered to come and pick me up in a taxi but I just thought the party was not meant to be. I was cold and tired and hungry and pissed at myself for getting lost to begin with. Usually I’m not so bad with directions.