Myself and two friends are speeding down a highway, at times paved, at times gravel. Though we're near sea-level, its as if we are driving through a cloud, the driver is only able to peer no more than 40 feet in front of him. Specks of life appear as we push through the vapor; boulders become grazing sheep, broken telephone poles are men by the roadside. In the distance we see shadowy peaks breaking through the clouds. And the road continues to unfold.
Its about 10 in the morning, we are in the middle of a 2 hour ride to Baki that will take us to the clatter of the Baki Bus Station. From here we will make a not-so-brief stop in the Peace Corps Office to pick up Christmas packages for volunteers and board a bus to make our way to Sheki. We settle into our seats, relieved to finally remove ourselves from the chaos that is navigating Baki.
We take a deep breath, finally we can relax. Suddenly the televisions flicker on and blast Azeri wedding music. This will be another long ride. Just how long was it? Long enough for my travel buddy JM (and for matters of traveling convenience, my temporary fiancé) to decide that now would be the perfect time to pluck all the lint from her peacoat with tweezers.
At last we arrive in Sheki. We came the furtherest and arrived the latest. Everyone has already eaten and has certainly already started drinking and there is a huge welcome for the last to arrive. Soon we have ditched the weariness of the road and are laughing over food and drink with friends we haven't seen in two weeks, though its felt like two months.
This weekend was interesting. Its the most unusual holiday I've spent and yet there were so many consistencies. The full day of traveling to be with the people I love. The all-to-brief celebration of Christmas before rushing back to real life. It was sad that I couldn't be with those I loved, but it was a good holiday.
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