Friday update

It is Friday night, we are sitting in the front room at the cabin, beloved on her laptop, I on mine. We have been back in the USA for one week now, so I will give a little update.


We stayed four nights with A, which was nice, but it is easy to tell that she has become accustomed to living by herself and that we were in her space. She was a gracious host, and we had a lot of fun talking and laughing and eating together. We love her and it is nice to be close to her again. Even had dinner with her boyfriend one night. He is a fine cook and a fine young man all-around. (Don’t know yet if he’ll ever be part of the family but if it happened it would be fine by me.)

B

Also got to spend some nice time with our son B. He moved to another abode this week, from a smallish apartment to a house. Helped move a bed and a couch and got to spend some time with he and his girlfriend and her son. They are all really neat together. (Don’t know yet if she’ll ever be part of the family but if it happened it would be fine by me.)


Of course my mom is happy that we are close in proximity again, have gotten to spend some nice time with her this week. And all sorts of friends have invited us out or to dinner or coffee just to visit. Also visited Vickie in the hospital--she is beginning the process of dialysis, not a pleasant experience. However, she is putting the best face on it and moving forward in the face of difficult prospects. I love her! Please pray for her strength and rapid recovery in this interesting time of transition, thanks!


Monday Beloved spent almost the entire day researching mobile phone programs and prices to find us just the right deal. Satisfied that we got a good deal we went about getting my iphone unlocked. That was not an easy process. We had it to two different places for a total of seven hours to get the job done.


I spent Monday talking to old contacts and seeing what is available for work and looking for some sort of transportation. I have set my sights on a Jeep Cherokee, and in the price range that I need there are not a lot of options. Several that are in decent shape but have 250-plus thousand miles, several that have 130-150,000 miles but need work--brakes or no air conditioning or need front-end work, and a couple that have 100-130,000 miles that need major work--an engine or transmission. One had a good engine and transmission but had been rolled over. Probably not a good option. Finally found one Tuesday night and made a quick call on it. Ended up getting it, finalized the deal on our way out of town Thursday morning. (More on that in a minute) So now we have a car of our own. Again.


Tuesday morning I went back to work as a contractor at Spirit AeroSystems. I suppose if I have to be here in the Hometown instead of Azerbaijan I would not rather work anywhere else. I love the company, the job, and the fine people that I get to work with there. It is a great environment and good money, so I will be at Spirit several days a week until we figure out what the next step is. (More on that in a minute, too) It is fairly easy to settle back into the group and the work, my manager Tony is as easy a person to work for as I have ever had--he makes me feel welcome and at ease and is encouraging me in the midst of an occasionally-overwhelming change of career.


Tuesday night we are staying at the home of a dear friend we have known for five years now, even as I write this it is hard to believe we have only known her for five years, she is such a kind and good friend. She opened her home to us just before we left back in December, and has done the same again, so we will be spending the next couple weeks at her house.


Wednesday I was at Spirit again, and went to look at the Jeep in the evening. Also went to meet a friend, a pro baseball player that is going on a summer-league tour with his wife, they are looking for someone to stay in their apartment while they are away so they don’t lose the apartment. It is an interesting deal, but a good deal for all of us, since we don’t have anything in Wichita we will get to move into a furnished apartment for four months. Also went to look at the Jeep and drive it, and spent some time with B--Portal2 came out Tuesday and he wanted to play it. His computer won’t handle it right now so we played on my laptop. Good times!


Thursday we got up early, we are going to Oklahoma today. We are meeting the guy with the Jeep at 7:30, pay the money and do the title. We are on the road at 8:30, we have a lunch appointment in Tulsa. More friends to see and tell all the story. The drive is nice, it is a pleasant contrast to the terrible roads and, umm, interesting drivers of Azerbaijan.


Friday we spent most of the day resting and working in the yard. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll get some photos. 

We still think about Azerbaijan all the time. Our hearts are still there, we remember all the people that we got to know and can’t wait to get back there.  Even right now I look across the room--Beloved was given an desk-top-sized Azerbaijan flag on a stand for her birthday--it is right there in the bookshelf. It is our desire to keep our relationships up over there, to help whatever way we can over there, and to help people here get an idea of what life is like over there. The time we spent in Ganja made us realize that there are a number of good organizations working in Ganja, primarily The Training House, that we can help by raising awareness and funds for their programs. Still trying to figure out exactly what that looks like, but if you would like to have a part in making a real difference in the lives of children in Azerbaijan let me know--I can help you get some funds to some people that will do some real good with it.


Thanks for reading, I will continue to post as regular as I can. Hello to my dear friends in Azerbaijan, Yaver and Amalya, Turab and Namiq and Gunlar, Gulbaniz and Gulmira, all the rest of the staff at the Training House, England and Mrs. P., Indy, Manchester, Berry and her family, Farshid, (somebody tell him hello for me!) all the group at the Bank, N&L who will be returning to London this summer--Godspeed, and all the rest. We love you and miss you.

Friday April 15 The Hometown

Options abound back in the Hometown. It’s good to be back in the Midwest, things are easy and familiar here, no need of learning language or culture, favorite foods are present 24/7. 


However, it is not where we meant to be starting this adventure some hundred days ago. There are many answered questions, many decisions that have to be thought through and made, and not least of all, what to do with the experiences of the past hundred days. What is our role now? Do we still have an opportunity to make an impression on the landscape in Azerbaijan? We would sure like to...


Part of the answers are easy, we will live in Wichita, Kansas for now, I will go back to Spirit AeroSystems as a contractor and make some money, we will continue our relationships and friendships that we have here in the Hometown.


Other easy answers are, we will continue with our relationships and friendships that we have built in Ganja, Azerbaijan, we will see what we can do to help those that we have left behind in Azerbaijan fulfill what they have started and are working on there. It is the desire of our heart to funnel money into the Training House, they still need to finish some building projects to be able to apply for the legal registration, allowing them to grow.  It is the desire of our heart to help Coffeeman and his family get back to Ganja and open Shah Asari. It is the desire of our heart to return to Ganja at some point in time, and I imagine we will for sure take a short visit this fall, October or November. (You are welcome to join us if interested!)


The hard answers are how and when to best accomplish these things, or if there is a different plan altogether... We’ll see.


Friday is spent in getting back in touch with folks, family first of course, but also friends and associates. We also spend a little over an hour talking to our former mobile phone provider who failed to cancel our service back in January. It was a successful conversation, it just took some time.


We went to see mom, and she was delighted of course. We went to see B’s new house, and that was good as well. We also had a bit of business to take care of for our Canadian friends in Ganja, they had some documents that needed to be notarized and sent by courier to Alberta Canada, so we got to spend and hour or so with our friend the notary public and catching up on news. Talked with Tony out at Spirit and set the wheels in motion for my return out there. Talked to a couple of friends about some creative housing, more on that soon...


Went to lunch with A and B and A’s boyfriend Alex. We went to a familiar nationally known bistro restaurant and ate good American food and talked about everything. 


We borrowed a car from some dear friends of ours, so now we are a little more free.


We rounded out the day getting to bed about 11:00PM. We’ve been invited to breakfast tomorrow with some friends, and we will continue on the quest to put all the recent changes in perspective, and in order.

The Journey West Part III

Today's layover, though longer than expected, comes to an end and we board shortly enough. There is a bit of a circus in our section of the plane, there is a young couple that is holding a boarding pass for seats right behind us. They are quite insistent that they booked window seats. They are getting frantic--perhaps there is a claustrophobic situation here, but they are walking up and down the plane trying to convince somebody to switch seats with them. At the same time we hear the stewardess commenting that this older lady, the only one sitting in the center section, is looking for someone to trade a seat as well so she can sit next to hear son, further in the back. This airplane is a Boeing 767, two seat on the window, three seats in the middle and two seats on the other window. Beloved and I are in the two left seats of the center. When all the exchanging of seat has shaken out, there is one lucky woman sitting in the row behind us in the three center seats all to herself. The plane is nearly full, there is only one other open seat within sight of me.

This appears to be an older 767, the newer airplanes have video monitors in the back of the seat in front of you, this one does not. It has a projection screen on the bulkhead about ten rows in front of us. We weren’t even sure if they were going to show a film.


All the seating is sorted out, the doors are closed and we are under way. About 30 minutes into the flight there is a meal, and it is pretty good. Then the cabin lights go out and everybody settles into nap-mode. This is okay, Beloved and I are exhausted now after our 16 hours in the Tbilisi Airport and 6 hours in the Warsaw Airport, so sleep comes as easily as it can it such a situation. About 5 hours into the flight they do indeed start a movie, “The King’s Speech” though we are too tired to catch more than a little of it. 

Our arrival into Chicago was uneventful, a fine landing and only about 25 minutes late. We are a little apprehensive about this, we do have a connecting flight and we have to get through passport control and get our bags rechecked on the domestic flight. Our apprehension was unnecessary, almost every flight out of Chicago is delayed, the President of the United States was in town this afternoon and closed down the airport for an hour.


We get through Passport control, we are on American soil again, finding our two checked bags was no problem, getting them checked was no problem, and getting to the gate was no problem. Our flight was delayed one hour and forty-five minutes, but once we got on board, it was no problem.


A little more sleep, we have been traveling now--from the time we checked out of the hotel in Tbilisi, Georgia--for about 41 hours. 

One other interesting point, four flights in this journey and all of them required us to ride out to the plane on a bus and walk up a set of steps to get onboard...


We arrive back in the Hometown, and A and B are waiting for us. It has been four long months away from the kids and there are teary greetings and laughs and smiles as we meet at the baggage turnstile. It would have been perfect if our bags had arrived with us, but even that is only a small damper on the moment, we are back with our children in a familiar place.


A couple of phone calls to mom and friends and we call it a night. It has been a long journey and we are wiped out. It is still Thursday night here, though ours had an extra ten hours in it. We are with A at her apartment tonight, and finding sleep in a totally horizontal position come easily and nearly immediately.


More tomorrow.

Thursday

2:40AM finally came around and we went to check in. Standing in the line Beloved asks me for her passport. “I don’t have it, you do.” There was an uneasy couple of minutes as she searched through her coat and the computer bag, but it was there. I knew it was but it’s always a startling thing when one can’t put ones hands right on the only document that can completely wreck all travel plans...


Check in goes well, the attendant asks if we would like to check our two bags all the way to our final destination. Yes, please. We will have to retrieve them when we go through passport control in Chicago, but they are tagged all the way to The Hometown and there is a possibility that we may avoid a baggage charge on this trip. It cost us $185 over the face price of the tickets to get three bags from Orlando Florida to Azerbaijan, so if this is the case it would be a pleasant surprise.

Upstairs and through passport control, another stamp in passport. We walk into the international departure side of the Tbilisi airport. There are several restaurants there, including “Burger Street,” which looks like a clone of Burger King. Guess what? The food tastes exactly like Burger King! Ha!


The time to depart comes and we walk down stairs to an outdoor exit and get on a bus. Our plane, an Airbus A320 is about a mile away! On board and under way, the trip is a blur. There is a food tray, bread and cold-cuts which are pretty good, but most of the three-hour journey to Warsaw Poland is spent trying to sleep. Fortunately we are successful in the attempt.

What we thought was going to be a couple hours in Warsaw turns out to be a five-and-a-half hour layover. Oh well. More sleep, a little food, and conversation with a young lady traveling home to California--she has been more than eight months in the region, teaching english and sightseeing. She and Beloved hit it right off and it is nice to have a third party to talk to and watch the bags when we want to stretch our legs.


By the way, there is no wifi in the Warsaw, Poland Airport.


Another by the way, the last time we flew through Warsaw Poland we ended up here for almost 20 hours. We were flying home from Helsinki, Finland, set to depart depart out of Warsaw. The Boeing 777 (a wonderful airplane) ingested several large birds upon it’s arrival, damaging one of the engines. The first report we got was that our flight at 1:00PM was delayed, there would be more information at 2:00. At 2:00 the announcement was that we were still delayed, there would be more information at 4:00. (At that time one other American that we had been sitting with said he was going to try his luck with another flight and left the gate. We would muscle it out, so we were a few hours late?) At 4:00 the announcement was that we were still delayed and the next announcement would come at 6:00 and we looked at each other apprehensively. What could we do at this point? At 6:00 the announcment came--first in Polish then in English--and we got a clue something was up when the 150 people sitting around in this gate all stormed the ticket counter. The flight was cancelled due to mechanical problems. We had already been sitting in the airport for more than eight hours already, so we were less than thrilled about the prospect of gathering up our stuff, going through passport control, getting on a bus and traveling into the city to be put up in one of Warsaw’s finest one-star hotels. But that’s what we did. I have used the phrase several times about that trip, “We spent a week in Warsaw one night...”

Tbilisi, Georgia Airport

Wednesday.

Woke up before the sun, and apparently missed out on the fact that there had been a time-change somewhere along the way Monday. We are one hour more west than we have been for three months, and that is okay other than the fact that we were an hour early for breakfast!


A skype chat with Indy, she offers an interesting idea--travel one time-zone every three days and there would be no jet-lag when you arrive home. Uhhh, 30 days later...


We got through breakfast, boiled eggs and muffins again with strong strong strong coffee, and got packed up again then checked out of the hotel. We took a taxi to the airport and made the adventurous decision to just stay in the airport until our flight at 4:40AM Thursday. Perhaps needless to say our 16 hours was filled with lots of waiting. 

We met an interesting fellow, an American in the oil business headed back to Baku. It was nice to have someone new to talk to and we spent a little more than an hour in conversation with him. He has been working on oil-platforms in the Caspian Sea for several years now out of Kazakhstan and Azerbaijan.


We hear American english a couple other times, but most of the day and night is spent just waiting. We watch a couple movies and walk around and eat some way-too-overpriced food. All in all, for a transition point into Azerbaijan, this is a clean, new, polite airport that is two-hours closer to Ganja even with the border crossing. We have learned a lot, and this is not a bad way to enter the Caucuses.

It is almost 2:00AM, we can check in at 2:40 and then we go through passport control. Thursday promises to be a long day as we wing our way west. Look forward to an interesting post Thursday night or Friday morning. By the way, there are more people in this airport at 2:00 AM than any other time of the day...

Just Tuesday

Today will be just Tuesday, not “Day 90 Tuesday.”  It was quaint while we were in Azerbaijan, but since that is not the case--for now--I think I will drop the counting. It just doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Today is grey, cold, windy and rainy. We hang out in the hotel room as long as we can, almost 2:00, then decide to brave the elements. it is probably about 50 degrees, maybe a little less, and spitting rain as we make our way to the promised land--there is a McDonald’s in this city.


I spent about 20 minutes looking at an online map and feel equal to the task of taking us to McDonald’s. We set out on a little different path than yesterday, only to find out that my first waypoint--the new pedestrian bridge over the river--is not yet open. The security man is courteous and smiles, but speaks no english as he communicates that “this way is closed.” We cross the river at another bridge and after about twenty-five minutes arrive at the second waypoint right were it should be. We are about half-way there, and the weather nor the walk are too bad. There are hundreds of people out and about, so it is not a bad day to be out at all.

The third leg of the walk is the longest, about thirty minutes, but is is along a wide boulevard and must be one of the oldest and grandest streets in the city. The architecture is amazing and beautiful. The sidewalks are wide, and except for Beloved getting a quick shower from a rain gutter downspout, the walk is easy. There are sculptures and artists and fine shops and banks and lots of people, as you might expect in a capital city of 1.5 million people. We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto.


McDonald’s is McDonald’s anywhere in the world--the Big Mac is spot-on and the fries taste just like they do in DesMoines or Lincoln or Tulsa or any other McDonald’s in the world, but it is a familiar taste and I am happy. We end up with ice cream afterwards and totally eat too much, but it is a nice time. We spend about 45 minutes there, then back toward the hotel. 

We decide to go another route, if we can get down to the river then we can get back to the hotel, no problem. We have to walk a little bit out of the way to get there, there are whole blocks of the city that are closed-off because (apparently) of the earthquake. Shattered buildings in various states of destruction or falling down-ness, so they have barricaded the streets. 

Once we get to the river the walk is pleasant and easy. I guess it is spring-cleaning time all over the world, they are working in the gardens and mowing grass and trimming trees. The latter reminds us that we are still in a developing nation... one guy with a chain saw (that is running) is climbing a very steep hill with no rope or fall protection at all. No glasses, no gloves. We watch as he arrives at the tree he is gunning for--the one with the pore tied in the top part of it. Between us and the man with the the chainsaw is a busy four-lane thoroughfare. The tree is about 35 feet up a very steep embankment. The tree is probably 16 inches around at the trunk and 60-70 feet tall and could easily go in the road. There are no orange cones. No flashing lights. Yet, somehow, ignoring all the risk, the tree crashes to the ground and no one was crushed or fell or injured and no cars even slowed down for the show. Beloved and I were the only ones that got to enjoy it, and I didn’t even snap a photo!

We crossed over the river and continued our exploring, always heading in the general direction of the hotel. We ended up at the top of the hill, at the Holy Trinity Cathedral of Tbilisi, commonly known as Sameba. It is a fantastic structure, and it’s gold color makes it feel inviting rather than imposing. It is amazing inside, the dome is a little over 200 feet from the floor. The nave is truly soaring. It is not an ancient building, it was completed in 2004, but it is beautifully representative of the region.

Our walk the final fifteen minutes or so is in pretty good rain, so we are wet as we return to the hotel. A little rest, a movie, a little writing and get to bed fairly early, and that was Tuesday. Just Tuesday.

Day 89 Monday

Well, the day has finally arrived, and we are up early again. Beloved and I spent most of Sunday afternoon packing--right up until we were invaded by Indy, Berry and Berry’s two brothers. Then Manchester dropped by, and later that evening two others stopped by to wish us well and send us off. We love you all and you will forever be in our hearts.


Finish packing and Yaver arrives about 8:45. I leave the house at 8:50 to walk down to the bank, arrangements have been made for one of the bank employees to drive us to the border, then we will walk through the station and get a taxi  the rest of the way to Tbilisi.

The ride out was uneventful enough, and about two and half hours later we were pulling up to the border control. We had not been stopped twenty seconds when four or five guys approached the truck--”Are you going to Tbilisi?” All speaking in Azeri, all wanting to take us in their taxi. I upset Beloved a little bit by making an agreement on this side of the border even though our friend had told us to acquire the taxi on the Georgian side. Nevertheless, after some bargaining, we agreed on a price and set off for the passport control. They x-ray’d our luggage and stamped the passport and that was it. exit on the other side and our taxi driver was waiting on us.


We drive about a hundred yards and stop to show our passports again, we get a Republic of Georgia stamp. That’s new!


The taxi driver knows where Tbilisi is and makes good time, however, has no clue where the hotel is and is very grumpy. I showed him the address when we were negotiating the cost, and of course his answer was “yes yes, no problem,” but we stop three times to ask directions and he paid another taxi driver to lead him. He stopped to ask for directions too. I have nothing to do but be patient and check out this ancient city. 

Tbilisi is the capital of Georgia, 1.48 million inhabitants. We are in the older section of town and there is still evidence of a 6.5 magnitude earthquake in 2002 that was centered right below us. There are shattered houses and apartments all around, with people still living in some portions. There is a lot of new construction too, and our small hotel is one of them.


Only 11 rooms it has four floors. It is a little over-priced for what we are getting, $65.00 per night, but the staff is friendly and it has a little bit of a view.

We go for a walk in the afternoon and find a place to eat. We have been recommended some of the local cuisine, so we let our waitress read what our hotel receptionist has written down for us. The waitress asks, “How many?” Beloved and I exchange looks, shrug our shoulders and reply, “Bring whatever is normal.” Shortly the first part arrives, meat and mushrooms wrapped in a small dumpling-type package. It is okay, not what I would eat on a regular basis, but filling. About the time we are finishing up with these the second part arrives, it is like pizza, but the dough is sweet and there is no sauce. The cheese is thick and hot, and it is pretty good but also pretty rich. We don’t finish this nor do we decide to bring it along, so we pay the bill and depart.

It is a beautiful day, sunny and warm, and we walk very leisurely back to the hotel. We are tourists today, and we stop to buy a carmel latte that is pretty good--our first non-instant coffee in over three months! We walk through the old city and take photos. One building stands out in particular, an old church that split down the middle by an earthquake. Here is a great photographic metaphor of a church split--HA!

Other things catch our eye and our camera, castles and statues and modern architecture all mixed together.


We get back to the hotel and call it a night after a long day.

One more thing about our departure from Azerbaijan. Georgia is a Christian nation--Azerbaijan is Islamic/Atheist. Many people talk about the “feeling” of a place and I usually try to down-play it as much as possible. However, not even ten miles from the border it was abundantly obvious that this was a different place. There are trees all over. The air is cleaner and I’ve only seen two Ladas--a sign of prosperity. There can be no denying that a nation that recognizes God and His provision enjoys a level of blessing that other areas do not. It is not just the American sentimentality of seeing a church on every other corner that makes us feel safe and blessed, in this case it seems to be the truth.

Day 88 Sunday

Woke up early again, I guess I'm kind of jittery about our impending departure, so I grabbed the camera and headed out the door about 7:20 AM. It is getting light and it looks like it will be fairly clear. 


I get to walk around my neighborhood and down toward the river for the last time (for a while) and think back on the past three months' adventures here in Azerbaijan.

We will be back, I’m sure, just not sure when or for how long. We would like to be able to return in the fall, September or October, (even if it is just for a couple of weeks) to continue our friendships and relationships with those that we have gotten to know in our short time here. 


The nation of Azerbaijan is populated with wonderfully kind people. They are interesting, engaging, and curious. Open and warm, I have only once encountered a shop-keeper that was rude. We have been welcomed like no where I’ve ever been even though we know little of the language.

200 pieces of Bread in a Lada

The common workman is hard-working and inventive, although tending to be a little lazy in the area of excellence. There is a purvasive attitude of “good-enough” that appears to be the standard. Many things here are cobbled together--if it works, it’s good enough. Is it safe? No, but it works. Is it astheticly pleasing? No, but it works. Will it break soon? Yes, but they will patch it back together again and there will be gas or water or electricity again for a few more weeks...


I have had very little experience with the government sector here other than my dealings with the Police and the Immigration Department. These too, can be likened to the labor of the worker--they appear to create bottlenecks rather than create freedom in order to retain power over those that they govern. It appears to me that the government has lost any sense that they are the employees of the people. 


A couple cases in point; The nation of Azerbaijan took and initiative in response to the recent uprisings in Egypt--they switched around a bunch of mayors. I guess they can do this, Mayors are appointed not elected. So Ganja got a new mayor. This is done to stem the corruption that ruling individuals seem to gather. Our new mayor was the previous mayor of Yavlax, a city of less than 30,000. Ganja has 300,000 so qualifications do not seem to matter a lot. One of the first things he has done was command that one of the most successful resaurants in the city, “Elegance”, pull down their outside seating area, stating that it was bad to look at. I am certain that this has had a significant financial affect on thier business, however, three tea houses within viewing distance of Elegance have been allowed to keep thier outside seating areas. Totally a double standard here. If the new mayor wanted to do something about how the city looks he should do something about all the litter. This would make him a good official.


There are numerous other points that could be made about the Immigration Department, the Police, and other governing sectors. Bribes, lax reporting, non-standard decision making processes and many other things, but I guess that the “good-enogh” mentality is at work here too. The people have grown accustomed to heavy handed governance and when the pain of change is less than the pain of staying the same change will come.


It is not intolerable, we have been comfortable enough. No, it is not American standards, but it is livable. The people here have almost no expandible money for luxury or leisure, and it shows, but they have chosen to not let it get them down. They shine their shoes and wash their 40 year old cars and drink tea while playing dominoes and celebrate the good life that they have. They are a very optimistic people, choosing to see that the gas was only off for a few hours rather than the fact that the gas went off at all.


I wish we could have gotten to stay, it would have been interesting to see how it all played out. I know we would have done more work at the Training House--they need to finish several more projects to be able to apply for another registration. That registration would permit them to reach more children and give them a quality education. I would have liked to meet the artistic community and see what they are doing. I would have loved to get into the music scene here--there is a pretty good jazz station on the radio. I would have liked to create some kind of grass-roots anti-littering campaign and coordinate some clean-up projects.


We have to trust that there was some sort of bigger reason in our “detour” at this time. There is one thing certain, we will return to Azerbaijan. Whether is is a short visit or we do find a way to live here long term, our hearts have been knitted with this land.


I will also offer this as well--if anyone reading this blog would like to experience the adventure of Azerbaijan first-hand Beloved and I will be your guide and host for a 7 day visit to Azerbaijan. You will get to meet most of the regulars on this blog, England and Mrs. P., Manchester, Berry and her family, Farshid, and get to be involved in bettering the lives of a few Azerbaijanis. If you are truly interested contact me, the cost would be about $2000, that would include your visa, airline ticket, and food and housing while in Az.

Day 85 Thursday

Woke up early (the consequence of going to bed early) and saw a golden light radiating in yonder window pane. Hark, be still my heart--could that be, lo, the sun? Well, it was for about 15 minutes, just enough to peek in under the clouds. However, since we were up Beloved and I chose to take a walk and see what we could see.

I wanted, if possible, to take a photo down by Yaver’s house. There is a nice drop-off where the ridge comes down through that part of town and you can see the Mountains to the south pretty well. Should be really nice if we could get a glimpse of sunshine on them. We got there and clipped a few shots of the mountains and the cityscape, then discussed whether or not to continue up the hill when we noticed that we were being watched pretty closely.

There is a gentleman standing about 75 feet away. When we turned to come up his way I nodded to him and gave him a greeting but as Beloved came past him he came to life and began to make us feel a little unwelcome. I spoke to him in english, but that was no good. When I started to walk away he pulled out his phone and started saying, “Police! Police!” When he was done with his phone call I spoke to him again and was able to pick up the word “why?” and pointing to my camera. (The camera is not a consumer grade point-and-shoot it is a pro series Canon with a double battery pack, so it looks like serious business!) “Man touristeyam,” I answered--I am a tourist. (More true today than any other day in my 90 day stay. “Shekillar manim dustum,”  which, though probably terrible grammar, indicated that the photos were for my friends.


This seem to satisfy the man and defuse the whole event. He sheepishly put away his phone and made his way off to the left. I nodded to him and smiled, and he gave a little hint of a smile back. However, we did not stay in that locale any longer just to see what happened!


We walked back toward the house trying to to be paranoid about a police car wheeling around the corner and being accosted. 

We are not in our usual neighborhood, we are about 15 blocks from our house. There is an unused (duh) church building of Georgian/Armenian origins that we walk around and get a few photos of. We would love to go in the gate, and perhaps one day we will.


Walking home we are finding several quiet streets with no traffic whatsoever. Being a very family-oriented society, weddings and funerals are big deals, and part of the deal is a tent that is set up in the most convenient place--right in the middle of the street in front of the home. This creates a little bit of an interesting situation with the traffic (especially since there are so many one-way streets--but no one really seems to mind because it is so ingrained in the culture. So, on our walk back to the house this morning we encountered four such tents, and walking on these streets is very easy because there is no traffic.

At noon it is time to go to the Training House for our last Azeri language lesson, this time around anyway. Spring is coming and we grab a couple of shots of the blossoms and daffodils, small patches for color in a grey world.

There are lots of things we will miss over here, and the primary thing will be the people. In three short months we have made many friends and will miss them when we leave. Our language lesson is not the most effective lesson we've ever had, there are many pauses as we try to overcome tears at the unavoidable change that we have been thrust into.

One last photo of the restroom remodel at the Training House. It is complete now and I want to give a special "thank you" to Indy. I don't know if we would have been able to finish it with out her irreplaceable help and incredible assistance. Thank you, Indy--you were indispensable to this project!

Doesn't even look like the same room. Thank goodness!!

Day 82 Monday Beginning of the end

Well, we were denied a work permit, so we have only eight days left on our 90-day tourist visa. We will be leaving Azerbaijan next Monday.


It was a hectic day emotionally, we experienced a whole range feelings, sad, mad, depressed, acceptance, excitement, sad, acceptance, etc.


We had to scramble a little bit, not knowing what we might find for airline ticket prices. Beloved started looking as soon as she found out the news, finding a reasonable one-way price of $1025 each. When I arrived home we both walked down to Nazah's for here piano lesson, and when we got back home we were back on-line and found tickets through Tbilisi, Georgia to Warsaw, Poland to Chicago then into the Hometown for $875. 


So we have tickets, and the reality is fully set in.


There will still be a few posts left, and there maybe more someday down the road--I'm certain that we will visit this strange land again. We may even bring along some brave souls that might want to see it for themselves.


Our time here has been wonderful, I wouldn't have traded it for anything. These are some of the warmest people I have ever encountered. They have no fear of strange people like Beloved and myself, we have been treated warmly everywhere we have been. Even now, as the word of our eminent departure is beginning to make its way around our circle of friends we are getting the most heartfelt good-byes and sad, "we'll miss you" that we never would have expected after being in a place for only a couple months.


Thank you to you all too, I never would have thought that my simple musings would be so interesting to you all. The stats show that every day between 15 and 40 people are viewing this blog--a little over 2,000 hits in the several months that I have been writing this journal. I hope it has been fun to read, interesting too. I appreciate all the support of my friends and loved ones, it has been a wild ride. I will keep you posted on how it rounds out...


My last post from Ganja, Azerbaijan will be Monday, April 11th.  :-(

Day 78 Thursday

The electrician did indeed come at 9:00 this morning. He set to work an after about an hour our electricity was restored. Note--all of the electric cable I have seen so far is aluminum. No copper yet... Not sure what he actually did, but from seeing the left-over Stalin-era electric panel he could have done some voodoo on it and I would not be surprised. This entire house runs all electricity through one breaker!


So, electrician comes out to the house, works for an hour, fixes the problem. How much did it cost? 9 manat--$11.25. Not bad.


Had language lessons today too, we are working a lot more now with speaking the language and it is tough! Good though. Finished up that and changed clothes and spent three hours painting in the restroom--half done with that. Tomorrow whould finish all the paint, then plumbng on Saturday and it’ll be done! Yahoo!!


Came home to macaroni and cheese dinner and wrote the blog the rest of the evening. Now it’s 11:30 at night and I'm all up to date, so goodnight!!!

Day 77 Wednesday

We had been asked by Berry’s dad (I really must think of a good handle for him someday soon)if we would like to participate as a host home for a progressive dinner for the ten visiting Americans and several Azerbaijani students that would tag along. “Sure we would!” and we did.  However, as beloved is putting together a tex-mex fajita dinner for 20 people, the electricity went out about 2:00 in the afternoon. Not like this is a huge deal, it does that from time-to-time. You get used to it. It usually comes back on in a couple hours and life goes on. Today, it didn’t come back on. Thank goodness the stove is a gas range! 5:00 came, and then 6:30 and our guests arrived. Fortunately the time change has provided us with more sunlight in the evening hours and the dinner goes off as planned.


One of the locals even offers to look at the electric situation--it is decided that we are the only house on the block with no lights! He is not an electrician, just a guy that has some skill, but he cannot find the reason we are without power. He calls a friend and the electrician will be here at 9:00 tomorrow morning. Well that’s good news...

Azerbaijani’s love to take photos of special occasions and tonight is no different. So I also get to take a few for posterity. Here are a few, including a rare stage-diving incident right here in Ganja!

We decide to forgo the clean up since it’s getting dark--and there is no electricity in the house--and walk with the group to the last house on the Progressive Dinner stop for dessert. It is a very nice time, and on the walk home Beloved and I grab a couple night time shots of the city. Enjoy Ganja at night!

Day 76 Tuesday

Today is the English Gala. We are not sure what to expect, but there seems to be a lot of hubbub about it. It is divided into two parts, the children and the adults. From 2:30 to 4:00 the children at the Training House are gathered up and the Gala begins. Mrs. P. emcee’s the event. There is the first-ever showing of the Drama Club, they have prepared a rendition of “Jack and the Beanstalk,” in english no less. The performance is nice, the giant is played by the smallest member of the troupe. How fun!

Then there are skits performed by the various classes of the Training House. Indy, one of the teachers, tells me later that her kids put together the concept and the acting-out of the presentation. There were four skits, and Indy’s team won the prize!

The American guests that arrived Sunday morning were also taking part in the Gala, they did a presentation of American Culture and were very well received by all the kids.


At 4:30 the whole thing was produced again, only the skits were performed by older students and most of those in attendance were adults.

Beloved and I skipped out midway through the second gig--we were pretty hungry after having been there most of the day. We walked down to Ala Turka and visited with our friend Farshid the waiter. The food and discussion was good as always, and having our tummies full we walked back to the Training House and out in two more hours on the tile floor. We’re getting close now!

Day 75 Monday

Monday we got up a little bit later than we wanted, Sunday had been a full day. We helped our guests get some breakfast and hot showers, then got on our way to the Training House. We are getting to the point that we would like to be finished with this project, so we are packing a lot of hours into it.


On our way we see something that we’ve not seen before--they are trimming the trees that are on the sidewalks adjacent to the street.  Labor is abundant and cheap over here, so this event looks like a veritable parade of people, at least a dozen. There were guys in the trees with hand saws, there were guys picking up the limbs. There was a dump truck and it’s driver and a tractor with a wagon and it’s driver. 

There were numerous spectators too, but the one that got my attention was the chain saw operator. My dad always joked about never using a broom because it didn’t have a steering wheel. Well dad, today I saw a chain saw with handle bars!! Wonder what kind of leverage you get out of that rig? Not much I bet. I was fortunate enough to get a photo--here it is!

Day 74 Sunday

The Daylight Savings Time change happened last night, we are finally back to just ten hours ahead of the Midwest instead of eleven hours, which we have been for the last three weeks. This is an important point because we are expecting the arrival of several guests from the USA arriving this morning. A group of ten, friends of Berry’s family (and Indy too, actually) flew into Baku arriving just after midnight then traveling by bus directly here. Berry’s dad had told us that he would call ten minutes or so before knocking at the gate, but he wasn’t sure exactly what time that might be. “Expect somewhere between 5 and 6AM.” So, at 5:30AM--with the time change it felt like 4:30AM, you know the drill--the phone rings. We’re here! So much for the ten-minute warning. No problem, we greet them and show them where they are to bunk and then get back to bed. Beloved did not sleep very well prior to that, she was fidgety, not wanting to miss the phone call.


Beloved and I got up and around about 8:30 and met with some friends for breakfast. It was progressing to be a normal day, so in the early afternoon we left the house to go to the Training House to continue with the tile work.


On our way we are passing by the Stadium that we occasionally run at. On the field are about a dozen or so people with, what’s that? American-style softball gear. I had to take a closer look at that, so as I am walking up to the entrance, a police car stops at the curb and motions us over. “Can we see your documents?” “Ummm, we left them at the house...” We stood there on the curb for about three minutes when one of the young Azerbaijani guys from the field walked down and asked if he could help us. He was very kind and it is a very generous thing that he is doing, but it is to no avail. The young man says, “you must go with them so they can prove that they are doing something. Please do not hold it against Ganja, we are really nice people.”


I though that was particularly kind of him to do.


We did go with the police. They had asked our address, which we were able to pick up, and we were able to tell them our address. Okay, so they will drive us back to our house, we will get the passports and the visa and all will be well. They drive about 80 percent of the way to our house, then go in a different direction. Beloved and I look at each other--they are taking us to the police station.


We quickly and wisely decide to phone for some help. “England, we have been picked up and taken to the police station.” That’s a first.


I thought about snapping some photos but then decided against it. In hindsight it probably would have been okay but I didn’t want to inflame an awkward situation. The station itself was small and dumpy--the same odd angles in the construction, the same power-struggle-style of leadership. The officer that brought us in started writing, a report I would imagine, but not a form--just a white sheet of paper. The senior man, judging by the gold flourishes on his jacket was busily playing Suduku. Don’t want to interrupt him. There was a soccer game on the television in the corner. There were about five guys at this post, all of them filing through as if to look at the latest catch. I guess we were somewhat of an oddity.


Nobody at the police station speaks english beyond, “hello, what’s your name? How are you?” After some fumbling around England walks in. There is some discussion between he and the senior man at the desk, then England says, “We must go and get your documents but one of you must stay here.” Great.


I stay and Beloved goes with England back to the house for the papers. All others leave too, I guess the show is all but over. In a very halting dialog I find out that this man, the senor man, is England’s neighbor. He goes back to his Suduku and I wait quietly for England and Beloved to return.


Shortly enough they do, and after some inspection of the documents all is pronounced in-order. Great! Can we go now? No. We must wait for a district man to come by and inspect the documents, then take them and get them photocopied.


England wishes us well and bids us good-bye, and soon enough the district man arrives. He looks over the passports and the visas and the receipts and the stamps, then all three of us depart the station. In a friendly gesture I ask his name as we drive to the photo-copy house. We understand very little of each other’s language, but in the small spaces that our proficiency overlap we are able to speak and laugh a little bit. His name is Jehann or something like that, so we laugh that we have similar names.


In the end, we spent two-and-a-half hours with this transaction, but it was not a horrible experience. The lawmen were courteous, there was no brutality or perceived request for a bribe. It is not something that I would like to do again but all-in-all not the worst thing I’ve ever been through.


We finally did make it to the Training House and worked for about two hours.


That was a full Sunday.