A Huge Thank You

Illustration by Arif Huseynov

This is a thank you post.  Its long because there is a story to be told with it, and aside from telling it like this it seems the only other appropriate way would be to type 'THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!' a thousand times.

A while back, unbeknownst to me, Emily and Mercedes collected a bit of money from each of you to buy me the best souvenir ever.  A couple weeks ago it was given to me.  Mercedes (especially) likes to tease me about presents and say things like 'You're gonna love it' and 'You're gonna be so excited'.  This is all pretty standard stuff and I'm game to play along, because who doesn't like presents?  But its when she said 'You might even cry' that I couldn't help getting a bit skeptical.

I'm not really liberal with shedding my tears.  Mercedes knows me pretty well, this is a bold statement to make.

So I turn towards Emily looking for a supportive eye roll.  And Emily says 'Actually...you might cry'.

Well, that does it.  I'm now officially clueless.  My mind is racing to think of any gift, let alone one that could be given to me in Azerbaijan, that could make me cry.

Alright, lemme give some background

A while back I was with my friend Glendene at an Ex-pats house who was telling us about an art event she went to.  It was for an artist who had created paintings for various Azerbaijani Fairy Tales.  In fact at this showing she had also purchased a book of the translated fairy tales and corresponding paintings.  Now, I collect fairy tales and myths from around the world (#randomfact), and even before hearing about this specific book I had been trying, with little luck, to find a book of tales from Azerbaijan, in English, as a souvenir.

But this book, this was beyond a simple souvenir.  It is probably the most beautiful book I had ever seen.  Soft leather bound, with gold embossed pages, each page ornately bordered and the illustrations for the tales were truly works of art, unlike any illustration I have ever seen.  In fact, it was so extensive in its detail work that the Azerbaijani government couldn't even find a book binder in Azerbaijan capable to do this-they had to go to Turkey.

I desperately wanted a copy, but I knew from first look I was doomed from the start.  Bookshops around Baku had never heard of this book, it was obviously limited edition, and obviously never, ever intended for mass production.  But little did I know, Glendene had spoken with Emily and Mercedes telling them that if they were looking for an idea for a 'thanks for planning this boat trip stupid!' gift she had a great one.  And apparently they collected money from each of you on the boat.  Alright. I'll now cut to Emily:

...[T]rying to get our hands on a copy, we realized we did not exactly know how to go about tracking it down. Mercedes finally got the number of a “guy” in Baku that we could call. We only knew his name, but didn’t know who he was, if he spoke English, if he sold the book or knew someone who knew someone, etc. So after arguing a bit about who would have to navigate the phone call, I gave it a shot. The conversation went something like this: 

Emily: “Hello, Is this Arif?”
Man: “Allo? Yes?”
Emily: “Hi. Do you speak English?”
Man: “Inglis? Okay.”
Emily: (In her head… “Obviously not.”) Switching to Azeri..
“Hi, I got your number from a friend who said you know that… you can find a book about…. Well I am looking for this book and it is about…. Somebody else is going to call you.” 

Luckily, Mercedes and I did this in the Peace Corps office in Baku with endless sources of the best translators I have had the pleasure of meeting in Azerbaijan. We approached our language coordinator, Afet, explained the whole situation, and she called him back for us. Listening to her end of the conversation, we already knew it wasn’t promising. It turns out, the man we called is actually the illustrator of the fairy tales himself. We figured he was just a bookseller or something. In reality, he was commissioned by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism to illustrate pictures for this book and has his own gallery in Baku. What he relayed to Afet Xanim was that this book was originally sold but now has been taken off the shelves completely. No one is able to buy it and the only way to obtain a copy is to be an International humanitarian aid organization and send a letter on behalf of the agency to the Ministry to request a book. They would review the letter and determine if they would send a copy or two to the organization. Afet Xanim asked maybe four or five times if there was any way at all to buy a copy from the Ministry but the answer remained ‘no.’
Hanging our heads after hearing the news, Mercedes and I had some thinking to do. The good news is that Peace Corps qualifies for the humanitarian organization. The bad news is, it wasn’t guaranteed that Ministry would grant it, and we still had all this money from Josh’s friends. If we didn’t get the book, what were we going to do with the money? Take him out on a night on the town? PayPal seven dollars back to everyone in the States? We decided to see if we could find a replacement on the internet first.  

Then the best news in the world came. While sitting at our Close-of-Service conference on the outskirts of Baku the next day, I received a call from Afet saying the illustrator had called her back. He was touched that we were so intent on getting the book for our friend that he made a few calls out to people, got his hands on the one and only copy available for sale, and would be in Baku the next day if we still wanted to buy it from him. And boy, did we. The problem was, we were at this conference and couldn’t leave, and he was only going to be in the city for one day (because he had to return to his Villa). Afet, who like almost all of our Peace Corps staff is amazingly kind, offered to use her entire lunch break the next day to go to the illustrator and buy the book for us. We sent our money along with a Peace Corps driver who brought it to Afet, who gave up her lunch hour to go on this goose chase for us. She even called to confirm with us that is was okay that we didn’t get a receipt because it was sort of an under-the-table kind of deal.  

The next day when I saw Afet and received the book, I was in shock. It is, by far, the most beautiful book I have ever seen and touched. The illustrations are breath-taking, gorgeous. It is ineffable. It even included a CD-ROM audio recording. Once we actually had it in our own hands, Mercedes and I kept hinting to Josh about his present. We told him he’d love it and he wasn’t going to believe it, but when we told him he might cry when we gave it to him, he started to get skeptical and couldn’t handle the wait any longer. The look on his face was priceless. He didn’t cry, but I think it was the amount of air he sucked in from shock that prevented him from shedding any tears. 

What I love so much about this story is the effort.  I love that this book took effort on behalf of both American and Azeris to acquire; that really adds a layer of meaning to this gift as a souvenir of my Peace Corps Service.  A main goal of Peace Corps is to promote cross-cultural cooperation and understanding and this story of events involved in obtaining this book so perfectly embodies it.  The artist even gave me a book of his work just from that exhibition and invited us to his gallery when we were in Baku.

Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.  No gift was necessary, the opportunity to see each and all of you together, in the midst of a long two years, was by far the motivating factor to planning this trip.  I couldn't believe my luck that I had 15 amazing friends and family members who committed to doing this.  But I so greatly appreciate the gift you helped get for me and can't wait to show it to you all.

The cover.  The etchings are actual physical depressions in the cover. 

Page detail

Arif Huseynov's beautiful illustrations 

Illustration detail 

Illustration detail

Comfort In The Familiar

Good morning school.

The beginning of school, Knowledge Day, is on September 15th.  And every year in Azerbaijan Knowledge Day has been and will be on the 15th, even if that 15th happens to fall on a Saturday, as it did this year.  The 15th of September is when school will be ceremoniously opened and a silly little weekend day is hardly enough to stop it.

So, just like last year, and many other celebrations throughout my service, I went over to my school and stood facing the center of the courtyard, waiting for the assembly to begin.  Its a cute assembly, all the new little first formers, dressed in their sunday best, boys wearing miniature 3 piece suits, girls with massive pompoms affixed to each pigtail, marched both solemnly and haphazardly, in a way only very young children can do, around.  Poems were recited, the flag was displayed, russian dancers, girls in little chick costumers...wait-I think I've seen this before..

At Knowledge Day, I realized how often I had seen these things before.  The same two students dancing the russian minuet danced it at our holiday party, and at graduation, and at a Novruz celebration.  And the adorable little chick costumers (it really is cute), its the same Azeri children's song sung every single time at every single celebration.  Further looking into this does not disprove the point-there may truly only be one Azeri children's song.

Other times in service I might sardonically reference the absurdity of Azerbaijan.  But I left Knowledge Day feeling happy; happy about the start of school, happy to see teachers after a long summer absence, happy to have lived in this community for 2 years.  There is certainly a bit of seeing everything through rose colored glasses towards the end, but its also an appreciation for the familiar.

My assistant director expressed how much more beautiful I look clean-shaven.  I knew he would love it.  In fact he's the reason I decided to shave for these next two months, that he would get such a kick out of it.

Coming the day before Knowledge Day to watch the poems being prepared.  I don't understand them, but I knew teachers and chosen students would be there, and its a great way to come back to school.

Little concern for the fact that school is starting this week, because its only the first week of school.  The schedule won't be set in stone by the time I leave in November, let alone in the first week.  I can ease into school again.

None of these are things I 'like' about Azerbaijan.  In fact, I might not even actively remember to miss them 5 or 10 years from now.  And that is the bitter of the bittersweet.  Right now I'm at a point where I appreciate them and can even riff off them.  And its sad to know that as time goes on, many of these appreciated moments will probably be the ones that get pushed out of my memory in favor of bigger events and more central actors.

These past three weeks have easily been my busiest weeks of summer.  Between COS conference and medical, PSN training and the Sheki Race.  In three weeks I went to Baku three times, traveled to 3 other regions, and was in Khachmaz for only three nights, non-consecutively.  Coming back to Khachmaz to so quickly go to Knowledge Day was a comfort for the soul, a Grandma Ginnie's Casserole in assembly form.  It was a really nice way to start the new year.

And The Winners Are...

The first Azerbaijani Student Film Festival was held in Baku this past weekend.  This is one of my favorite PCV projects that has happened in Azerbaijan.  I love it because it promotes everything worth promoting in this country-critical thinking, creativity, acting a little differently, etc etc.

The festival itself was incredibly fun.  13 submitted films for the contest and a host of movies made by the Zagatala Movie Club were screened.  Americans and Azeris gasped, laughed, and even cried at what we saw.  Below are my favorites.

3 GÜN - 1st Place Short Narrative
This film was great.  Its fully in Azerbaijani but you can totally follow what's happening.  Stolen goods, honor amongst thieves, double crossing, and the editing and soundtrack keep great pace.  I was pleased to see this take first place its category.



We Want To Live Too - 2nd Place Documentaries
This video has a special space in my heart because it was produced by Naile, a girl in Khachmaz that Lannea and I worked with.  I'm going to warn you now: its pretty graphic.



Crazy Summertime - 1st Place Music Video
This is Azeris making fun of Azeri village people and its hilarious.  Ruslan, the main guy in this video, was the star of the festival.  He's been a key member in the Zagatala Movie Club and is a massive ham.  This movie had PCVs rolling on the floor.



Melek - 3rd Place Documentary
Whoa, this one's emotional.  Its really really well done and it was hard for the Americans in the audience, who have gone so long without seeing their family, to keep from choking up.  Its still difficult for me to watch.



THE-TELL-TALE HEART - 2nd Place Short Narrative
You can't really go wrong with Poe.  This was a very skillfully showing of the Tell-Tale Heart and it has beautiful atmosphere to it.

Limited Success In Sheki

I've always joked that my success rate as a photographer is about 10%-of all the photos I take, only about 10% of them are actually worth editing and looking at.  When I go out and shoot, I definitely go for quantity over quality, trusting that if I cast a wide enough net, I'll chance upon some quality shots as well.

Normally this works pretty well for me, but unfortunately, on this last trip to Sheki, it completely backfired.  Sheki was overcast the entire time I was there and for most of the weekend it downpoured.  I didn't really take into account the lower light and as a result almost all of my photos after the first day came out grainy.

I also wasn't putting a lot of thought into the subject of pictures I was taking.  For example, there are no pictures of the Xan Saray, which is basically the main sight we saw on the first day.  I was so caught up in taking detail shots (which didn't really turn out) that I missed the big picture; I completely lost the forest for the trees.

However, though poor, it wasn't a total wash.  Below are the successes and though they are few in number I believe them to be well composed.  I especially love the slice of sky captured from beneath the Karavan Saray's roof as lights below struggle to illuminate the pressing darkness.

Outside the Sheki Handicrafts Museum as we approached the Xan Saray.  

This style of engraved wood lattice and cut, colored glass is featured prominently throughout the entire Xan Saray.  There are thousands and thousands of individual pieces that make up the windows in the old old palace. 

A view of the Upper Caucuses and a converted church, as we come down from the Xan Saray. 

Morning of the first Sheki Charity Run.  It is pouring torrential rain in the background.

A slice of sky from beneath overhang of the Karavan Saray.  This is one of my favorite pictures I've taken in Azerbaijan.

Is It Time To Say Goodbye Already?

Ominous clouds above the Karavan Saray

Last week was our Closer of Service conference.  It was a bit of a vacation too-a hotel/water park, set amongst bars and dance clubs on the beach.  Here, we reviewed topics that relate to life beyond Peace Corps.  We covered topics such as resume writing and networking, health coverage, and saying goodbye to our community and counterparts-all useful information.

After COS conference I went up with Emily up to Sheki one last time, which is, in my opinion, Azerbaijan's biggest draw.  There are a couple major historical buildings here, and guidebooks consistently mention that if you have time to visit any place in Azerbaijan besides Baku-make the trip up to Sheki.  We specifically went for a touristy weekend, visiting the beautiful Xan Saray, and staying at the extremely old and wonderfully converted Karavan Saray.

And, of course, helped with a Peace Corps project.  While there we helped with Azerbaijan's first destination charity run, a 10K race just outside the city, in the mountains' forest.  The weather was pretty miserable, almost comedic in how much it rained, and many teams arrived from neighboring rayons only to immediately turn around, but even still this race managed to raise close to 700 manat for the newly formed National Girls Club in Azerbaijan.  I imagine next year, (inshallah with nicer weather), will be a massive success.

After the race was run, as we were saying goodbyes to the other volunteers who helped, something strange happened.  It suddenly became a real 'goodbye'.  Leaving COS, I was aware of volunteers that I would most likely not see before my end of service, but those were volunteers I never really formed a relationship with.  Leaving Sheki, I was leaving volunteers that I am friends with and as we compared our schedules for the remaining two months, we realized its very likely we won't see each other before leaving the country.

Its like a repeat of two years ago, when, after getting dinner with friends, we realized that the goodbye being said wasn't just for the night, but potentially for the next couple years.  The first few times that happened, it was a pretty heady experience and after two years of building friendships, its been a similar surprise.

This realization transforms my service.  Truly its now the end of service phase.  Suddenly I'm thinking about how long its been since I've guested at my counterparts house and how I need to do that more frequently.  I'm figuring out how to best say goodbye to my school so that we'll part ways on the best of terms.  I'm realizing that those Azeri friends, who's calls I sometimes screen because I'm too tired, will soon enough no longer be able to call.

I still have plenty of opportunities in the next couple months to see friends all over the country.  I still have a camp to help with, a film festival to attend, and PSN training-all of which are happening in the next couple weeks.  Beyond that I have teacher trainings in three different cities, plus whatever miscellaneous events might pop up.  And each of these events will be accompanied by a comparing of schedules and realizing that 'hey! we're not going to see each other again!'.  I'm ready for these goodbyes.  What strikes me is how close I am to those conversations with my Azeri friends here in Khachmaz as well.

After an extremely self-involved (and needed) summer, fall will see me look towards the others who have made my life pretty good in Azerbaijan.  My American friends I'll see again.  It may be months or it may be years, but I can say I'll see Emily, Glendene, and Mercedes again with the same confidence I can say I'll see Nick, Margaret, or Evan again.  My Azerbaijani friends-well I don't know.  Before COS, there was no pressure to think about goodbyes.  Now, its all I can think about.