It is so nice to be home in
Khujand. I realized when I arrived that I had missed it. It is so nice to know where
things are, and to know what people are saying. It has become true winter. It
snowed this week. The library put out carpets along the granite walkway so
people don't slip. The supermarket also put carpet on its steps - and I had to
step around a stray dog who realized that that was the warmest place he could
be. Khujand's winter wind has arrived with it: last Sunday it was "12F,
feels like -6F." I am in more layers than I wore in Almaty.
Sorry for not specifying earlier,
but the travel home from Kazakhstan was eventually successful. It was not
certain: after missing the flight Tuesday, I went to the very helpful men in
the USAID travel section, who told me that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was
closed on Wednesday and 'they often take five days to process visas, so you
need to be prepared to not make your flight on Friday'. But I did. Of all the
potential answers to "everything happens for a reason," the most
compelling is that I was meant to arrive in Dushanbe with all of my fellow
ETAs. And then I hopped straight onto the plane to Khujand, and spent a very
pleasant flight talking to a new friend who even drove me home to our
apartment.
Once home, though I was happy
about snow, our apartment building was not happy about the cold: we were
without water for three days, and the eventual solution involved breaking into
the empty apartment next door with a crowbar and holding a hairdryer against
the dusty pipes until the water unfroze. Now we are supposed to keep a constant
drip of running water to prevent re-freezing (I'm sorry, Burgundy!).
But we could stay warm with my
souvenirs and gifts from Kathmandu: scarves for Sarah and Madina, and wool
throw blankets for the apartment, which became a stylish shawl when worn to the
American Corner. I gave a presentation about Nepal, showing them thankas and
rupees and prayer flags. They were excited to hear, and I was excited to be
back at the American Corner and to share.
My TOEFL students are my favorite
(don't tell), because I actually see them regularly and have gotten to know
them. Our last class was on Wednesday, and I had prepared surveys for them to
fill out, printed out certificates (with out new color printer!), and made
brownies. I was utterly surprised when they had a present for me. It was so
sweet, and they were all so earnest in their thanks. They wanted me to know
that they appreciated the class, but also that they were thinking of me since I
was far from my family for the holidays. The present was one of the decorated
cardboard New Year's boxes that they sell in the grocery, with chocolate inside
(I think I talk too much about how I like chocolate). Only when I got home did
I see their note, written on a 3D Christmas tree card.
Well, not Christmas tree - New
Year's tree (in Tajik, archa). I had
no idea how much Russian New Year's celebrations and decorations have become
part of the Tajik December. In the middle of Lenin street there is a huge tree,
which is lit up at night, and a stage behind where there are now concerts every
day at 2 p.m. We foreigners see Santa faces on the tree, and tinsel and other
Christmas decorations in the bazaar. They see a New Year tree and "Boboi
Barfi" (Father Snow).
 |
| The courtyard between the mosque and Panjshanbe bazaar currently features a large New Year's tree and several Father Frosts willing to take a photo with you. |
Either way, 'tis the season. The
week has been full of talking and dinners: at the Grand Hotel with Embassy
visitors, in our kitchen with a neighbor bringing coffee and at a friend's
apartment with pasta, tea and decorations. I downloaded albums from my two
favorite singers of Christmas songs: Michael Bublé and Nat King Cole. They've been on repeat as I drink Seattle's Best Coffee from our new drip
coffee maker.
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