Around (Part of the) World in the Past 80 Days

A non-chronological rundown from A to Z of what I’ve neglected to report since I last wrote:

A – Archives, in both Russia and Tajikistan. I have been surprised in the last six weeks to learn just how much bureaucracy and apparently arbitrary and informal adjustments to bureaucratic rules really do differ between TJ and RU. I’m sorry I have to be reminded, but I do often forget that it is wrong to lump these two together into a single category. If you want to be wowed, I suggest you work for several months just trying to get registered and allowed to see documents in the sad national archive of a regressing Central Asian nation, and then go overnight to the beautiful oasis of the main reading room at GARF (State Archive of the Russian Federation), with its computerized index system and terminals at each reader station. But be careful not to faint from shock.


B – Buzkashi. The art of dragging around a goat carcass and fighting over it from your position atop a galloping horse. See photo essay.


C – Cheeses. Twelve of them, packed in multiple plastic bags, ziplocs, and stuffed together with a gift freezer pack in Paris into suitcase #3, only to emerge upon arrival in Tajikistan still cool and smelling wonderful. Now awaiting experimental freezing.


D – Disease. Luckily for Anya, only “angina” which, I guess contrary to our use of the word in English (from the Latin for choking or congestion) in reference to chest constriction and heart disease, in French refers to something like tonsillitis or strep throat. It was the sickest she’s actually been her whole life, but she was still a trooper. And our visit to the French pediatrician in Tonnere, France, renewed our already high respect for socialized medicine – bring on that Obamacare, thank you very much!


E – Embroidery. To my great disappointment, I must admit, the needlework has stalled out! But for a good reason: renewed research inspiration and necessity (much-procrastinated research trip to Moscow) made me turn away from the embroidery kind of right at the point where I was going the strongest on it, unfortunately. But I am really glad to feel the new boost in creativity and production, and the work is fun. Whether to keep up with the crafts in this current phase of Dushanbe life is my next decision…


F – France. Mmmmm, 2 weeks binging in the heartland of duck confit, terrine and paté, fromages hard and soft (especially soft and runny Epoisses and Chablis, my favorite of our discoveries), red wine (Burgundy, to be exact), and escargots (Anya to Dan: “dai mne eshche ulitku! [give me another snail!]”). Throw a few raw oysters – and whelks and winkles – on top and you pretty much have our vacation in a nut (or snail) shell.


G – Grandparents. Had a great time with 2 of them in the French countryside – Anya for 2 days longer than we did, and apparently all 3 of them had a blast.


H – Hotels, good and bad. FYI, in Autun, it's probably wise to splurge on the Hotel les Ursulines up in the old town, with the beautiful enclosed garden, despite the nondescript rooms. The incompetent front desk manager at the Hotel St. Louis et de la Poste downtown (together with the single, yet surely not solitary, cockroach we spied) made that one a bust. And the experience kind of ruined the whole next 24 hours, to be honest.


I – Insects. Fleas to be precise, which are the most bothersome ones that have visited us (and apparently left, during our vacation) over the last few months. But with the onset of spring the aphids on the fruit trees in our yard have also come out of hibernation. We are trying to spray with soap and water, but is it possible that Central Asian aphids are immune to this approach?


J – Jeans. In addition to the fact that the fashion right now is very clearly to tuck these into your tall, but flat-heeled, boots, I gleaned many other fashion tid-bits during my many hours walking from archive to archive, and people watching, in Moscow.


K – Kyrgyzstan. In truth, this doesn’t really deserve to be on this list, since ironically (and probably luckily) we could hardly feel further from the unrest and changes there. That is not to say that it might not spill over – you definitely never know. But so far it really seems not to have one iota of an influence here in Tajikistan, and in a practical way for us that is a good thing. In the larger picture I am not so sure that it is in the best interests of Tajikistan’s citizenry to be so complacent, but I am not complaining right now. The “revolution” – or maybe “coup” – occurred while I was in Moscow, and actually I probably knew more about it learning about it from that location than from home in Dushanbe, since while I was there I had the time and the inclination to watch the news quite diligently (and even discuss all of the very interesting, mainly tragic or disturbing, current events, from Kyrgyzstan to Katyn to the Moscow metro, with my landlady). It kind of felt like I was at the center of a much more connected universe while I was in Moscow, while here in Dushanbe everything typically seems very insular, very isolated from what is happening in the outside world. In any case, I include this mention here mainly since so many people have asked us about events in the neighboring ‘stan.


L – Lady drivers. It seems I’m one of them again. More precisely, for some reason when spring arrives in Tajikistan, not only do the local men do a typical double-take for women walking and perhaps wearing something pretty (a revealing mid-calf kurta, or what have you), apparently they also have a habit of looking twice and even staring when they see a woman behind the wheel. Come to think of it, women and kids will crane their necks to check it out, too. It’s just that shocking a sight to see.


M – Moscow! What a big, bewildering city it really is – I had a great time, and although after two and a half weeks there I was ready to get back to the slow pace of life in Dushanbe (and my peeps), the hustle and bustle was pretty fun to experience. It was my first time really living in the city (and right downtown, in a great location, steps away from Kievskaya metro station) and exploring it myself – the town I know best is Petersburg, and Nizhnii Novgorod I suppose is a close second. (Sorry, Vladivostok, I guess you take bronze.) I think I might not even mind spending some extended time in Moscow in the future (although maybe I’d get sticker shock if we really were to live there for a stint, not just visit short term).


N – Navruz. After a week of sun and warmth leading up to the biggest Central Asian holiday of the year, with people getting positively punch-drunk on the weather, it was a big dud. Rainy and cold. Certainly not inspiring for anyone to wear their new kurta, especially if it is still far from being completed…


O – Other scholars/academics. This spring has brought a lot more contact with researchers here in this part of the world, surprisingly many of them here in Dushanbe. It started with the German grad student, studying Soviet history, whom I met by sheer luck near the end of her 5 year stint here in Dushanbe. (5 years because she is also a spouse and mother raising her small kids here; she wasn’t spending the entire time doing full-time dissertation work.) Then it gathered steam with the grad students I met in Moscow, and now, partly because it is summer (those US based academics are smart: avoid Tajikistan in the winter. What a good idea!), there are 3 grad students here in town whom I know. I also met an inspiring independent scholar from Canada and I hope soon to formally meet the German scholar who was working at the desk next to me at the archives today. It’s gotten to the point that I am seriously planning to have an academic dinner party soon, before some of these folks cycle out of here and the population dwindles again.


P – Potty Progress. Hooray! Big girl undies (thin, no soaker panel) + possibly an unusual time-out from preschool teachers in response to her last real accident = I guess a month or more of dryness and a nearly perfect (I’d say ‘spotless’ but that wasn’t actually our problem…) record with trips to the toilet.


Q – “Quiet time.” This was how I explained to Anya what the side chapels in the several French cathedrals we visited were for. She started wanting to go in them with me to catch some together.


R – Rain. Unfortunately we departed from rainy spring weather in Tajikistan (where it is at least warm) only to be met by rain and half-century record low temperatures hovering at or under 10C in France. And now we've returned to TJ, where the rains are just an annoyance in Dushanbe but have left over a thousand people homeless and camped out in the stadium in the southern city of Kulob. Anya and I tried to make a small contribution to help Monday when we brought 4 bags of things of hers and mine that are either no longer worn or have been outgrown to donate for local efforts to assist in Tajikistan’s south.


S – Spring! and the arrival of the “Season”: the season for produce in Tajikistan, that is. When even the neighborhood bazaar has strawberries (sad and soggy though they may be) for sale, you know the highwater mark of fruit and veg season is just around the corner. Sure, you’re still advised to make the trip to Green Bazaar for really good quality and selection, but the season has arrived, for sho’.


T – Train travel. And the miracle of catching our Frankfurt-Paris train, for which we had planned a layover of 3 hours. Ultimately we had to run for it in the 45-minute interval that Somon Air's delayed arrival afforded us. (Anya to Lisa the night before the return trip, in Paris: “Will we have to run for the train again? I didn’t like that.”)


U – Umbrella. Anya was pleased as punch to be given a Winnie-the-Pooh children’s (hey, they probably make them in adult sizes, so I might need to specify) umbrella, after a shopping spree in the hypermarché outside Autun. (Shopping therapy after our bad experience at the hotel? It’s possible.) It made the trip home just fine packed in a suitcase and still hasn’t broken. Surely better quality construction than the 9-somoni jobbie I bought her at the bazaar in Khujand in the winter.


V – Vaccines. The polio outbreak in Tajikistan has given me reason to renew my earlier interest in polio vaccines, both injected/inactivated and oral/live, albeit from a very different perspective. Anya got her first round of the OPV booster series today. The situation is truly serious, but for kids who have received good quality vaccines so far and are up to date like Anya there should not be an extreme risk. With that firmly in mind, I actually think it might do us a lot of good if more academics had to deal with their topics of heated abstract discussion in direct and concrete relationship to their own or their kids' lives. But I guess that probably isn't a widely applicable or appropriate thing to wish for. The experiences is actually very enlightening and provides fascinating insight.


W – Water, dirty. Spring rains (well, any rains, really) bring “brown baths,” as Anya has called them since her first ever dip in the tub here in Dushanbe, a year and a half ago. The water from the tap used to be brown all the time, but shortly after we moved in the city did some improvements (yes, it happens), and the quality on a typical day improved. But we are reminded right now of how extremely cloudy and dingy that water can get. At least it serves as a good reminder that it wouldn’t be wise to drink out of the tap!


X – Хозяйка. Or khoziaika. That is, “landlady.” I had a really good one in Moscow for the 2 weeks I rented a room in her apartment – it was a surprisingly nice arrangement for me, working for many hours during the day and into the evening at the archives, and coming home to have a bit of dinner or tea in the kitchen with Inna Zinovievna.


Y – Yoga! So glad that Dushanbe has seen a renaissance (or I guess simply naissance?) of it in the last 6 months. I am happy to say I’m back to 2 times practicing per week (when not on vacation – but I did go to 2 overpriced yoga sessions in Moscow!).


Z – From Anya Z. (Vladivostok friend) through the mid-alphabet, mid-Europe Meilak, to Berkeley’s own Z-spot, visited with lots of friends we hadn’t seen in years during the past few months’ travels. It's a good thing to do, since living over here, even in this internet-, Facebook-friendly age, means we still aren't able to keep in contact as often as we'd like with people we care about. Sometimes the isolation here just makes us sluggish and complacent in that frame of mind, and the months stretch on and the messages (and blog posts) don't get written. So it was really good to reconnect with so many friends (and family) over these past 80 days.

It Speaks! It's Alive!

Whew, what a breather!

Yes, I know -- I actually was reminded that someone reads this blog when a couple of people asked what the story was, why I hadn't updated in a long while.

I guess real life got in the way.

Update since the end of September:

• Finally unloaded the many tasks associated with being sole organizer of Anya's preschool onto a small collective of my fellow parents. (This is where it started to feel again like I actually had a real life, I think.)

• Took time to walk. As in, walking Anya to sadik almost every day, instead of driving. (The location we moved to at the start of September is much closer to home than the previous location.) She sits in her stroller and I do a fast walk for about a half hour to get a bit of exercise -- and after dropping her off I often walk back on my own, with or without the arm weights of groceries or produce from the bazaar.
  
  We started out walking on city streets, meandering eastward and then south. We were having a nice time coming into more contact with neighbors and other people around the broader neighborhood who we were starting to encounter every day. But then I was reminded of how close we are to the Botanical Gardens, which allows us to flip that L and walk straight south, through the northern gate, admire a few yolochkas (fir trees, or Christmas trees, in 3-year-old parlance) and say a few salaams to the ladies sweeping up the leaves. Then we hang a left just past the old beat-up orangerie and head eastward, out the main gate, past the medical complex and over toward sadik. It takes us just over 25 minutes with the smooth paths and no traffic to avoid in the BG, and it's such a peaceful, beautiful walk, especially with all of the improvements they've made in the past 6-9 months (lots of beautifully carved wooden pavilions like the one below).

• Started reading and writing again, felt a creative surge and got some recognition from the outside (accepted to write a chapter in an edited volume). Got back into the library, found some good material and am finally beginning to write about Tajikistan -- malaria in the 1930s-50s.

• Had a birthday. Realized that 2 years shy of 40 feels kind of old.

• Took a vacation to South Africa with Anya and Dan -- had a great time, seeing old friends, making stews, riding trains, eating and imbibing all the good things we can't find in Dushanbe. (And pledged to take my morning walks to the next level when I started to feel like a pig after all that eating.)

• Celebrated Halloween with a small platypus. Three seems to be the year of really understanding and fully participating in experiences like birthdays and long distance trips and holidays. Complete with the understanding of what a candy bag is and how smooth those chocolate-peanut butter Halloween "eyeballs" go down.

• Got bitten by the football bug. (OK, loosely defined; see below.) The parents of the older expat kids who go to one of the international primary schools here organized a family sports day on Tajikistan's Constitution Day, in early November. We all had the day off from work and school, so they rented a football field at the main sports complex in town and invited nearly everyone we've ever caught a glimpse of in the international community. It was a classic autumn day, great for chasing a ball or a kite and taking a break now and then for a snack on the bleachers. Kicking and throwing a ball around is apparently another activity we don't do often enough, but after this Anya's been talking a lot about playing football and even trying to recreate the fun (unfortunately, more often than not, in the house).

• Met the start of fall with a shiver. The only downside to a vacation from Dushanbe to the southern hemisphere in mid- to late fall is that you miss some of the best weather of the year in Tajikistan. And then you leave the summery weather down under and return to a house that has been empty for 2 weeks, right at the point when it starts to get downright chilly. It took a few days for our heat to come on and take root -- and of course by then the weather had warmed up again. Now we are decidedly into sweater and boots and tights weather. The house is warm, but there is often frost on the Botanical Garden plants, and on sunny mornings a steam rises off of those plants that are getting the direct rays. And yet again the electricity has started to get sketchy -- one thing to be thankful for is our generator.

All in all, maybe a break was what I needed -- I figure anyone who cares enough to read this has faith that I'll come back. And here I am.

Change in the Air

I fear the change of seasons is near! Already we have cooler mornings and evenings (very comfortable now), and cloudy skies in the dark evening (beautiful with the moon, a "ghostly galleon" on the waves of fluff up there, which has given us some enjoyable chances to admire the night sky and try to explain the moon to Anya). This morning we woke up to an already-drying rain-spattered courtyard. Only the second rain we have witnessed since sometime in June, when it stopped.

My own personal yardstick for the end of summer is the anticipated End of the Melons. I don't know when this is going to come, but I'm bracing myself. The sweet torpedo-shaped yellow Persian melons have been my absolute favorite part of summer in Dushanbe, and the way they laze about in huge piles on the roadside or in entire sections of every bazaar is such an amusing part of the season for me. It was during the last week of June that they appeared, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, and although they are still plentiful, I am dreading their disappearance. The only potential silver lining to this loss is the arrival of the persimmons, which I missed last year because of our October arrival and my general lack of experience with this fruit.

Fruit and veg was generally the highlight of the season, from my point of view: soft-ripe, deep red tomatoes and bright green hot peppers that made a delicious version of Mexican salsa fresca together with the ubiquitous cilantro, regular onions and lemon juice instead of lime. Fuzzy peaches. Anya's new favorite: green grapes, although it is my deep disappointment that Central Asia has not discovered the seedless variety. (I have been advised that if you seek out the especially small grapes at the bazaar, that these are essentially and accidentally seedless. Will have to try it out, although I'm already used to halving them, scooping out the 3-4 seeds inside, and giving them to Anya, who gobbles them up quicker than I can complete each step on the assembly line.) Sweet little apricots, both orange and yellow. Those long-passed cherries of the late spring. There was honestly so much that I didn't even take advantage of the berries, which generally are only sold in the central Green Market here, and I can't manage to go there unless there is a very essential need, because parking there is a terror and when you go to that market there is a documented change in the space-time continuum that requires that you lose 2 hours of your life and never get it back.

Luckily the fall will still bring us good things, and cooler temps, so that we can get back into the yard more. And right about now is when those ziploc bags and tupperware containers need to come out -- I still have not learned to can, but we need to use the modern equivalent shortcuts to make sure we can enjoy some of the fruits of the warm season throughout the winter!

Tursunzoda Torn Up

One of the downsides of getting back and forth to sadik during the week these days is the fact that one of the important north-south arteries in the older section of town is all torn up for some thus-far not-totally-comprehensible construction project.

(Actually, the irony here is that, not only did they block traffic along that artery, Tursunzoda Street, for a good part of July, only to open it now to slow, partially hindered movement, they also now in August decided to major work on the real main north-south artery in this section of town, Rudaki Avenue. It's city planning at its best, here in Dushanbe.)

The thing about driving up and down Tursunzoda that depresses me, though, is not that for a good portion traffic slows to a sometimes one-lane trickle over gravel and dirt and around large construction vehicles. (It doesn't look so bad for instance in the first picture here, but on a weekday morning right now traffic has to pick its way slowly through a lot of debris and activity.) What really bothers me is the treeless moonscape they have created where a slightly lazy, tree-lined secondary street once extended.

This at right is what the street used to look like, and in its northern stretches, nearer to our house, (so far) still looks like.

But in the section closer to the center of town they have uprooted the huge old trees that lined the road, apparently in order to refurbish the gutters and, some are saying but who really knows, to widen the actual roadway.

This below is actually not Tursunzoda itself but a smaller street, one of the only ones that ran all the way through to join the two parallel north-south avenues of this part of town, and therefore was actually a very useful street until they completely blocked traffic on it, too. It was also a nicely shaded street before, one that led part of the way to sadik and was pleasant to walk on to run an errand in that neighborhood.

This summer in Dushanbe has really taught me the value of trees in a place like this, even beyond all the more fundamental reasons that any rational person knows they are important and shouldn't just be chopped down without good reason. In a place that typically sees 40 to (luckily not this summer) 45 degrees C (105-115F) yet is quite dry, and where average homes are rarely equipped with air conditioners, shade is an extremely important factor. More generally, of course, one of the charming aesthetic aspects of Dushanbe (and it's not like it's dripping with those, although it is much better in that regard than Vladivostok) is its tree-lined avenues.

I don't know who made the decision to destroy so many old trees, and I doubt he's got an effective plan to replace them with equivalents. I just feel so sorry for the people who live in these neighborhoods, whose houses and walks to the bus stop or corner store are all of a sudden depleted of the shade that surely made them bearable -- maybe even pleasant -- in summer.

Of course, then whoever is overseeing the construction project apparently just lets the trees and root structures sit in the street, and neighborhood people then pillage the wood for their own purposes or to sell. One speculation about the tree part of the project that I've heard several times is that the wood was just worth more out of the ground than in the form of a tree. But by that measure, and by typical Central Asian logic, someone much higher up on the food-chain than Dilshod-on-the-street ought to be making the profit off of the trees. And maybe they are -- maybe the bulk of the trees destroyed were taken away to build fancy dachas or to floor new mansions, and we just see the bits and pieces left to the neighborhood to hack up and use or sell.

First Road Trip of August 09

Somehow we don't seem to have taken nearly any pictures nor gone on any drives over the course of July. I'm not sure how that happened, since summer is the time in Dushanbe when people tend to escape the heat of the city for the cool of the river valleys outside of town. I guess we can chalk it up to an extremely full social calendar here in the city, from the weekend of July 4th all the way down to last weekend, as the US ambassador to Tajikistan prepared for the end of her posting here.

This weekend we took our first drive out to the east of Dushanbe (or at least Anya and I did -- Dan had been a few times, to visit the dam at Nurek and to see Gharm, in Rasht Valley). We went in neither of those directions, though, instead going up the smallest road that spokes off from the little hub that is Vahdat (aka Kofarnihon), a town due east of Dushanbe (that is being somewhat kind, I hope you realize): we took the northern spur into Romit Valley (that's Romit like "raw meat," although if you're following along at home with Google Maps, apparently it's "Ramit").


It was very pretty and very different from the Varzob river valley that runs directly north of Dushanbe and through which we have driven already too many times to count. (Road construction work on various tunnels and road surfaces makes that trip a little tiresome.) It was also quite different from the valley that runs north of Shahrinav, out west of Dushanbe, although it's possible our experience of that terrain was unique because it was springtime and a very wet one at that.


Romit in summer had brown hills, but a wide rushing river the color of jade or celadon. The further up we went (and according to the GPS we turned around to head home right here, at 38.90 x 69.28), the wetter the landscape got -- actually kind of surprising given how dry it is for the most part where we live.

In the valley that runs due north of Romit village, the roadway was lined at almost every turn with carefully constructed rock walls and fences woven out of spindly branches, evidently delimiting orchards and garden plots and grazing land. Some of the road wound under full tree cover where the ground was wet and the walls were covered with moss. (Moss!)


The unpaved roadway up the valley was surprisingly smooth, given our experience elsewhere in Tajikistan so far. Someone had clearly been through with a grader or something since the end of the spring, when all the rainfall we saw here would have covered the route in rockfall and mud. But there were still sizeable stretches of our trip where we were bump-bump-bumping along, which you realize only near the end of your journey is actually quite exhausting. I think maybe if there was a clear destination we were headed to, I'd endure that jostling a little better. (I think of the poor souls on that 22 hour car ride I have heard about between Dushanbe and Khorog, and I wonder if actually I'd be pulling my hair out even with the anticipation of seeing the Pamirs.)

But our usual road trip M.O. is just to head out merely for the sake of exploring, and more often than not Dan's interest in what lies beyond that next rocky outcropping is greater than mine, although he -- by mutual agreement -- invariably holds the steering wheel. Maybe the next time we hit some terrain cooler than Dushanbe, I'll push for less driving time and more footpath exploring (or picnicking), to break up the journey a bit more.

A Day in the Garden

Poppy In the Breeze
Originally uploaded by lkwalker71

After an unexpectedly vodka-soaked evening spent guesting with our nanny's family, an unexpectedly beautiful Saturday spent on hobbies and relaxing in the yard.

The Day In Pictures

Yesterday: The view out the window at the Morningstar Cafe, during a rare workday lunch (and on a rare warm, sunny April day) with Dan.


Today: Anya and I take a break on the way to sadik to admire the "guest" in our yard, whose origins we haven't yet guessed. Must have something to do with either a lot of digging or a painful toss over our high compound walls.

Being Green

A friend who has also been away from Dushanbe for at least a few weeks returned this week and commented at how green the city is. I noticed it right away, too -- apparently it rained for practically the whole two weeks we were away.

This meant that, first of all, that there was no need for me to lie awake at night wondering what the swift change in weather in the two weeks before we left, from modestly chilly to downright hot, and possibly a continuing rise in temperature might mean for our little garden, left without anyone to water it while we were gone. We came back to a bushy garden full of all kinds of plants that I haven't even had a chance (because of the continuing rain) to parse out and edit. Among them are definitely a profusion of mint, what looks like maybe some carrot greens, definitely some light green lettuces, and a bunch of flourishing beet greens. And our rose bushes look very fine.

The rain also means that truly the hills surrounding Dushanbe really are a beautiful shade of green, which was especially striking to me, I think, because of where we'd been most recently.

We spent about a week in "La Ville Rouge," Marrakech, which really is quite ruddy red -- mainly I suppose it's the architecture and the old medina walls, but the overall sensation is definitely Red. Of course, I haven't yet uploaded all our photos, and anyway I didn't take anything so beautiful or illustrative of the red as this:


Then we hopped our plane from Casablanca to Istanbul, where everything is more grey-blue. Again, not my photo, but it easily could have been:


And now we're back and find ourselves in a curiously green environment. And, yet again, since I haven't yet gotten a snapshot of it, I will refer to Flickr for illustration. Even though this is outside Dushanbe, it gives a good sense of what those hills look like right now, and what I see every time I look out our upstairs window at the hills on the city's northwest edge: