My time in Azerbaijan is almost done. With just over a month until I officially “close” my service, the number of items on my to do list continue to pile up: Language testing, an endless battery of paperwork, and all the good bureaucratic practices that come with Peace Corps service. From what I have heard, this time has historically been an opportunity for reflection, travel and relaxation. Unfortunately, it was not to be.
About a week ago, our landlady called to tell us that as of the first of the month, we would be officially homeless. Apparently, she has found someone willing to commit to two years and 50 Manat more than us. This development is abnormal on several levels. In over two years here, I have never gotten the impression that planning is a cultural norm by any means. A friend of mine while working with her Azerbaijani counterpart, commented on the lack of plans she noticed in business and academic life. The counterpart—a professor of English at a local Ganja university—responded by saying: “Yes, because if you don’t make plans then you cannot be disappointed.” Hence, the notion of planning to stay for two years is an oddity rendered even more bizarre by the fact that the toilet pump and showerhead stopped working over four months ago. I suppose I should be grateful for these circumstances as the utilization of buckets for both flushing and bathing purposes seem to have manifested themselves as staple PC experiences. Herein lies another peculiarity: Anyone living in Azerbaijan knows that for 200 Azerbaijani Manat a month in Ganja, one may expect at the very least a working toilet, an electric water heating system working through a functional showerhead and view of something other than a garbage dump. However, it seems I have learned again that “the man who knows everything admits he knows nothing” in the words of Socrates. I wonder if Socrates was a Peace Corps Volunteer.
0 comments:
Post a Comment