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!!