Fast comeback, huh? If there’s one thing I really dislike, its being in a self-pitying rut. Anyway, the amount of support I’ve received is very uplifting and encouraging. Thank you all so much…now where’s my peanut butter? (just kidding)
We’ve seen snow here the past two days, early mornings outlined in the magical whiteness of winter. By mid-day though, the shy winter sun melts everything into squishy mud and blinding wet sparkles.
I’ve been prescribing myself an active routine - a ‘to do’ list as long as my arm, cooking up a storm to the point where I can’t keep up with my dirty dishes, and cleaning house as if I was expecting my mother-in-law…yoga, walking, reading, writing – anything to stay in motion, mind and body. At the bazaar, I came across a few merchants who hadn’t realized before that I’m American. Our banter was a good pick-me-up, especially when one said, “You look Uzbek! And so young, you must be twenty!” and I immediately buy his muddy, half-wilted spinach and tomatoes that are now more than one hundred times the price in summer. After I hand him the equivalent of $1.50, I quickly duck away as he begins to ask if I want him to find me a husband. A couple of stalls down in the fruit section, I hear a young man shout, “There she is. That’s the American!” and noted the look of disbelief among the his audience, so I rescued him and confirmed in Uzbek, “Yes, I am American.” Smiles all around, myself included.
My communication problems have been remedied by deep pockets (pre-Peace Corps pockets). I got a cell phone, something I resisted for the better part of last year. Consider it my contribution to the Uzbek economy as well as my own sanity. Just knowing that I can reach out if and when I need to makes me feel less claustrophobic. And I still blend in. The mobile phone market is burgeoning and is becoming typical in the city. Two of my colleagues have one.
UZ18’s are due to arrive any day now, if they haven’t already. Welcome! Your arrival is highly anticipated and I hope to meet everyone in training. We submitted our application to the training coordinators to conduct various training sessions, so hopefully I’ll be asked to come in to tell you all the things you’ll soon forget because training is a blur in all the excitement, and to answer all the questions that you’ll be embarrassed you asked after you’ve been here awhile – take it from me.
There is one question that I’m repeatedly asked about, and that is the dangers of living in Uzbekistan, particularly Uzbek attitudes towards Americans, terrorists, the IMU, etc. Answers do not come easily because, 1) I don’t look like a typical American and most people think I’m Uzbek; when they find out that I am American, they are so bamboozled and impressed that an American has taken the time to learn their language that their heads are spinning, which gives me enough time to run away if I feel any danger; 2) any real terrorist threat is invisible, whether by the IMU or otherwise; you can’t tell who they are, and you don’t know what they will do. So life goes on as normal. I do different things for my own safety which Peace Corps advised us to do – vary my daily routine and travel route, trust only people I know well, and I steer clear of anyone that looks at me crooked (unfortunately, Uzbek glares are some of the meanest I’ve ever seen, but can be magically transformed sometimes into smiles when they realize a foreigner is what they behold, if they’re not already laughing at your babble). And, 3) living here is each person’s own experience. It all depends on how people react to your approach, your expression, your ability to communicate/assimilate, attitude, etc. I’ve been luckier than some who have had horrible experiences with the locals, yet I can’t pin-point what the differences are.
Simply put, the only things I can really warn you about are: local vodka, unbottled water, uncovered manholes, and lighting hot-water heaters!
Udachi Vam! (“Good luck to you!” in Russian)
