perils of driving

Today was a somber day at the azerbaijan mortgage fund, and at the entire national bank as a fund staff member was seriously injured in a car accident and his passenger, a 21 yo employee of the national bank was killed. During lunch, a bunch of us went to visit him at Baku medical center's intensive care unit. The hospital looked like an abandoned warehouse: gutters hanging, rusty doors, broken windows. inside, it was less grungy but dark with walls that appeared stained. I kept thinking about the difference between this hospital and the one in which my dad recently had his bypass surgery. and this was a major hospital in the capital city - imagine what some of the hospitals in the regions must look like? one of the fund guys had previously told me that medical school is fraught with grades for money bribery. The intensive care unit was housed with the emergency room. Visitors had to get past a woman sitting on the other side of a comically small square opening to see patients. Not dissuaded by rules forbidding non-family members from visiting, one of my quick thinking colleagues handed the lady a bundle of bills and allowed himself in. he was followed by a lady selling deep fried pirojkis out of a plastic bag, and then several of my co-workers. I didn't feel the need to go in and see him. first because I don't do well w/ seriously injured people and second it seemed ridiculous to bother a man who had just suffered 8 broken ribs and was barely able to talk. driving is dangerous in baku. over the weekend, i had talked to a consultant whose client's son had just been killed in a car accident.

fis mak mmmmmm ........ i'm lovnit it

(top) ronald is one of the friendliest guys in baku

(below) a few months back we met his buddhist cousin in bangkok, who also approves the fish mak

ok, it's an old story: that which repels you normally comforts you in unfamiliar surrounds. guilt, mild self-loathing, quisiness (sp?) of the gut - real or imagined - a visit to mcdonalds in america elicits a distinct set of negative feelings for me. it's precisely the predictability of that response that regularly draws me to mcdonalds in baku -- kind of like: 'i know this makes me feel bad but at least it's a familiar bad'. or maybe it's just that the amalgam of fish parts fried into a crispy square smothered with sweet sweet tartar sauce and then placed in between a bun so soft and processed it disappears on contact with my mouth like some kind of cotton candy is just so darn good!? anyway, whatever the reason i found myself at the fountain square mcdonald's last friday . . . again. the interesting thing about mcdonalds in baku is that some americans, myself included, see it almost as an outpost of america, an annex to the embassy if you will. we enter and feel more confident about our place in the world. suddenly we're the ones promulgating social norms, inside the golden arches anyway. here's an example from my visit friday: I arbitrarily picked what looked to be the end of a line -- as background, lines to just about anything typically resemble mob scenes in AZ; women are the worst cutters, but they aren't really seen as engaging in bad behavior, it's just considered gentlemanly to let women cut in front of you. the cashier was very slow and i was getting upset that my plans to leisurely lunch on fish mak would end up being a frenzied chow down (in order to make it back to the office by 2 -- everyone eats lunch from 1-2 at the national bank). as i waited, a woman elbowed me aside and plopped herself in front of the backpack wearing dude in front of me. i uttered something in complaint, he turned around and said 'that's so Azeri, the women are shameless about cutting'. we did nothing about the woman but commenced a bitch session about how wrong it was -- we were loud, indignant and i have to say it felt good. plenty of women have cut in front of me elsewhere and typically i don't complain but inside mcdonalds it felt different. i contemplated this as another woman showed up and immediatley moved to the front of the line, next to the backpack american who by this time was ordering. i threw my newspaper on the counter where she placed her handbag -- she seemed startled and retreated slightly as i stared at her: 'where do you think you are lady, azerbaijan?'

Şirvanşahsirayi

Still camera-less, so here are some photos of Shirvan Shah's Palace taken earlier this summer. Mostly constructed during the beginning of the Shirvan Khanate in the 15th century, the Palace is set off near the rear wall of Baku's Old City. It's strategic location atop a ridge close to the center of the crescent that is Baku Bay afforded the Shirvan rulers unobstructed views of in and out ship traffic. The Palace is actually several buildings. Besides the main residence for the ruling family, what remains today include: the Divanxana (a pavilion for legal proceedings), a mosque, a mausoleum housing the body of a famous astronomer (walking down the steep stairs into utter darkness was creepy but not as bad as thinking about what his shriveled body must look like now . . . probably not that different from the dust that blows around Baku on most days), a mausoleum for royal burial vaults, and a hamam or bath (remnants of ceramic piping used to distribute hot water were still evident). (Underneath the complex were apparently several wells that provided fresh water.) If the Old City with its maze of carless, claustorphobic alleys, perpetually in shade and rarely marked with signage, stands apart from the the rest of Baku, the Shirvan Shah's Palace offers passage to another time. The courtyard, shaded by fruit trees and outfitted with benches, was for me perhaps the most tranquil spot in the entire city.

Pictures from top left going clockwise:
1) Bullet marks from the execution of Azerbaijanis during the Bolshevik rise to power (our tour guide blamed Armenian sympathizers for the killings -- the Qarabagh situation is never far from any facet of modern Azerbaijani life). 2) Where better to carve your thoughts for posterity than on a 500+ year-old UNESCO World Heritage site? 3) Stone carvings recovered from the remains of an old castle on an island (last used as a prison) that was discovered when the Caspian retreated in the mid-20th century (why are the carvings are stored and displayed at the Palace?) 4) Entrance to the palace residence. 5) Hamam (it was excavated not too long ago, notice the modern buildings constructed literally on top of the complex).

non-baku ramblings

I woke up this morning in Baku recalling an outing that Grace and I had in Glenview, Illinois (I guess one never knows what weird mental excursions will result from the subconscious mining of one’s memory, especially when you miss someone). Anyway, the recent trip to Chicago coincided with our one-year anniversary. Sleep deprived and emotionally ragged, I think the date snuck up on both of us. Visions of a Baku celebration – e.g. the famous mugham singer Alim Qazimov inviting us over for mutton shashlik barbecue with plov and homemade kimchee and then feteing us with a private performance -- had to give way to something northwest Chicagoland-inspired. Even though I grew up in and around Chicago and I regularly visit my family there, my knowledge of the local restaurant scene was limited to Kimchee Cabana and a few other restaurants from my childhood that still existed. Grace was craving good sushi and this led us to a new Japanese restaurant in Glenview called RA. Their corporate website assured us that, “there’s never a dull moment in the RA. The music is pumping, the mood is upbeat and the atmosphere is as STMULATING as a big bite of wasabi . . . “ “Why not?” we thought, who couldn’t use some “upbeat” moodiness and stimulating wasabi? Anyway the sushi and rolls, while hardly noteworthy were enough to get us over our sushi fix. What was more interesting was the actual location of RA. The restaurant is part of a huge development in the middle of Glenview, the former site of a major naval airstation. Growing up in the area, I would sometimes see large evergreen-colored cargo planes flying over our backyard on their way to the base. My 6^th grade social studies teacher also explained that we should take the annual air raid drills seriously since our school’s proximity to the airstation made it a priority target for Soviet nukes – the good ol’ Reagan days. Anyway, the base was closed in the early 1990’s and within a few years was transformed by the Village of Glenview into a sort of Pleasantville. I didn’t know anything about this until Grace and I drove up and saw all the new urbanism-inspired mixed-use development: closely packed townhouses with front porches but no driveways, wide sidewalks, street level retail/apartments above, walking distance shopping, reclaimed prairie. And while it still retained a lot of the typical suburban feel: a façade of character created from nothing and chain stores, it was unlike anything else I had seen in the Chicago suburbs or for that matter any suburb. A huge digression from life in Baku but interesting (at least to me). Anyway, here’s a NY Times article about the development.

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9B0DE0DB1638F931A25752C1A9659C8B63&sec=&pagewanted=print

A master plan for the development and history of the site is available on its website:

http://www.glenview.il.us/glen/

random baku scene

Grace has the camera in NYC so I'm recycling some older photographs. And yes, the America-loving waiters would have been more appropriate 2 weeks ago but oh well. They work at the restaurant atop the Apsheron Hotel, an immense Soviet-era brick of a building, that sits along the Caspian coast (a block from our apt) and offers a panoramic view of the city from its outdoor space. When I asked the waiters if they would be photographed, they immediately consented and one rushed to grab the US and Azerbaijan flags. The one on the far right had a serious crush on our friend Linda and by the time we ordered coffees, had declared his love for her in English, Azerbaijani and Russian.

Update & random book recommendation

Just returned from an unexpected trip to the U.S. (hence the recent blog inactivity). Grace is still in NYC visiting our new niece Hyunoo and Hyunoo's mom, dad, sister and grandmother (i.e. Grace's mom).

The reason for the sudden trip . . . my dad had emergency bypass surgery. This after his cardiologist was startled to find three of the arteries leading to his heart severely blocked. Grace and I didn't have much time to make arrangements: we learned he would need surgery on Saturday morning, purchased tickets that afternoon and were on our way to the Baku airport 12 hours later. As someone who typically suffers from indecisiveness, it was exhilirating to decide quickly and without remorse. I'm relieved to report that after some harrowing complications and nearly a week in intensive care, my dad is steadily recovering and expected to be discharged some time this week.

Anyway, back in Baku now. Just completed my first day back at AMF (aka my project). The transition wasn’t so bad. On an aside, the many hours spent at the hospital afforded me time to finish an interesting book: ‘No god but God’ by Reza Aslan

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400062136/104-8984062-3941511?v=glance&n=283155

I recommend it to anyone who like me knows little about Islam but would like to get beyond the usual blatherings of esteemed theologians like William Kristol, Donald Rumsfeld or your local Congressional Representative. Primarily a historical narrative, Aslan traces Islam's development from its pre-Muhammad roots in the Arabian Peninsula to the challenges confronting it today. Because it's a history book, it's sometimes dry and not particularly engaging although I found the sections on Medina (where the Prophet established his community of followers) and Sufism quite interesting. Where the book really won me over though was in the last chapter when he uses history of the personal sort (the mad dash through Tehran airport with his little sister in tow is extremely vivid) to introduce the reader to his hopes for the religion's future. Aslan's thesis, that much of instability and conflict currently unfolding in many of the world’s predominantly Islamic countries is really a manifestation of the “reformation” taking place in Islam really was fascinating and new (at least to a novice like me). OK sorry about that Religions 101 lecture. I just had it on my mind because over lunch today, a colleague at AMF, who has vowed to convert me (mostly in jest . . . I think), mentioned that for him Islam means love, individual choice and rational thought. What H**** has to say about his faith and practice of Islam is so different than what I can piece together about Islam from watching TV news or reading the papers.

Our Trip to Şəki (Sheki)

After a 9 hour overnight train ride from Baku to Sheki, we were met by Gabi (Rakman's family driver). Jim works with Rakman who's one of the deputies at the Azerbaijani Mortage Fund. He is from Sheki and with a quick phone call was able to get us a suite at the famous Karavansaray Hotel after we were already told it was booked for a tour group. Connections connections....anyway, Gabi sped us through the town and made sure that we were taken care of before he left us. This the dramatic entrance to the hotel. The Karavansaray (former lodging for camel travellers along the silk route) was beautifully restored and was all that it was built up to be...


The courtyard to the Karvansaray. We arrived at 7 or so in the morning and crashed out when we got to our rooms. A few hours later, we were awaken by lovely orchestra music and Italian singing (O Solo Mio...) in the courtyard. After grabbing some lunch in a nearby restaurant where we tried the local specialties, piti (chickpea, lamb, fat chunk stew) and halva (like baklava) we checked out Sheki's old walled city.



Within the walled city were museum for applied crafts, a target shooting stand, and a shebeke workshop. Shebeke is style of stained glass windows done by craftspeople in Sheki. They have made windows for the US Embassy and the restored Xan Saray (pictured above). The Xan Saray (Khan Palace) was closed for renovations from 2002 and just reopended in 2004. It was pretty cozy as far as palaces go. Unfortunately Jim and I had to use an Azerbaijani tour guide (the English speaking one was out) and only caught words here and there like "qonaqliq" (party) aha so this is where the parties were held... so that above is room where qonaqliqs were held...


There were two huge trees in front of the Xan Saray. We were told that they were over 470 years old! Jim and I both agreed that there is almost nothing better than a great big old old tree. Just looking at it and sitting under its canopy was so reassuring and calming, just makes you feel like everything's gonna be alright.



We bought some papaqs from this man. Jim asked him to pose with the hat and you can see how pleased he is to oblige. After buying 2 hats from him, he managed to persuade us to buy a silk scarf from his friend in the next store over. He told us that if we bought the scarf he'd buy us pive (beer). Silk is another industry in Sheki. Needlesstosay, the next thing we know, we're sitting in a pivexana (is that a real Azerbaijani word - beer house?). The novelty though of drinking a beer with the foreigners seemed to fade once the beers landed in front of us and thankfully we had nohut (chickpeas) to munch on while we tried to chat in our meager Azerbaijani. After a few minutes, we learned that he and his friend had been drinking pive since around 9 am (we met them at 4 or 5 pm). FYI chickpeas with a side of dipping salt is real yummy and addictive.


This is the back garden restaurant at the Karavasaray where we ate most of our meals. It was quite peaceful and enjoyable to be surrounded by flowers, moutains, and trees. Jim is strolling through garden after eating a whole lot of meat... I think that night we were asked if we wanted an assortment... "Yaxsı" brought us a plate of mysterious pieces of meat. I could only eat the chunks of familiar pieces which were quite tender... I have become much more able to consume and even enjoy meat. Jim was a little more adventerous and tried what he thought was brain - small, yellow, and wavy - and liver a rich morsel of something deep red brown.



Another day we hired a driver, Ilhan, to take us to some local sites. We first went to Mt. Marxal home of the fresh bulag su (spring water) and resort. It was great, really green and lush there. There was a sad little pond that was the size of a swimming pool where families paddle boated around. We hiked up some with Ilhan (who did pretty well in his pointy dress shoes) and took this panorama view.




Then we went to the town across the bridge Kiş where went to a restored Albanian Church. From there we wanted to go to the remains of a hidden castle. Upon Ilhan's suggestion, we did a driver/car switch. We hopped into a red Niva and quickly understand why the Lada would not have made it. The "roads" were quite rough, especially crossing the rocky river pass to the trail head up to see the remains of a castle called "Gelersen Görasen" which translates to "Come and See." It was great to hike and the view once up there was incredible. Actually the panorama photo above is from the castle not Marxal. This is us at the top of the castle.


Out last night inside our room... Jim got fancy and was able to capture the twilight... the window seat was one of my favorites. The next day we left with a hired car and driver so that we could see more of Azerbaijan's country and get home faster. Faster indeed... 9 hour train v. 4 hour drive (guide books say the drive should take about 6.5 hours). The driver (unfortunately neither Jim nor I can remember his name nor many others...) though was really nice and speedy. Azerbaijan is really beautiful. We passed through spectacular mountain vistas, lush fertile land, small cozy towns, and happy cows and sheep along the way. We hope to travel to other parts of the country. The trip to Sheki was such a welcome respite from the dusty tower-filled city of Baku. Baku is the Las Vegas of the country. It was a little hard to transition back to Baku.

Dun da da da.....

There she is... our new niece - Mabel Hyunoo Namboos- with her big sister Stella. She came into the world on June 14, 2006 at 1:33 p.m. est at a whopping 7lbs. 14 oz. It sounds like this birth went smoothly and Tessie, Jim, Stella, and Mabel are all doing well, especially with the help of Lori, Stella's Gomo (Jim's sister), who came to NYC to help out from Michigan. This is the part where it is hard to be on the other side of the world... photos are just not enough. We hope to meet Mabel Hyunoo soon.

world cup commentary

I've been watching more soccer than i'v ever watched in my life. It may reflect my life here and the absence of things to do or maybe it's that the matches are mostly televised in prime time. The korean satellite channels have really pushed me to the brink with their overzealous cverage of all things world cup. We can't watch a drama or docu-show or the news without some mistimed reference to the red devils or 'highting'. Even as a korean and avid fan, I feel that the whole population (korea's not azerbaijan's) has swallowed some strange pill that makes all else of little or no consequence -- korea has worked itself into a frenzy where to be korean only means to be a supporter of the national football team. This is the problem of a feel good experience crossing into annoying arrogance. Too much, I almost find myself wishing for good spanking by the french tomorrow, if only to tone all this hype down. I also feel like a grouchy 35 yo.

Cim və Hyunoo Adgünü tabrik ədirəm!

My sister Tessie is scheduled to deliver her second daughter today June 14, 2006! Because it's a c-section they can schedule the delivery at 11 am (New York time) like it's a dentist appointment and plan to be done within the hour... Then big sister Stella can come meet her new baby sister, Hyunoo (her middle and Korean name, first name to be decide upon meeting). I wish I could be there with you Namboos family - Tessie, Jim, and Stella- you are in our thoughts today.



So Hyunoo and Jim will share their birthday! Happy birthday to you both!

Jim is turning the big 35, joining me in the prime of our middle adulthood... wahoo! We are heading out on an overnight train to Sheki, a northern region and are excited to see more of the country. Pictured hard at work shining his shoes... Jim has acclimated to the Azerbaijani norms of being judged by the sheen of his shoes. And he is making headway with the guys at the Azerbaijani Mortgage Fund so it must be doing something...

Chirax Castle

Yesterday, I went on a staff retreat to Chirag Castle, about 2 hours north of Baku. Yes, staff retreat... I am now gainfully employed teaching English, the very thing I thought I didn't want to do. With the ngo's not being so responsive and/or engaging to my free labor, sudden increase of free time (intensive language training finished), looking for an opportunity to meet more Azerbaijanis, I responded to an ad in the English speaking paper. The students are mostly oil workers (whose foreign companies are paying for their English language training). Nice guys but unfortunately no women. I am learning about random parts of the oil industry - mud logging, sample catching, 28 days on 28 days off the platform, up/down stream, etc -which has been interesting.

Anyway, back to the trip... it was great to get out of Baku and see some green! We took 3 SUV's out there and passed some surreal oil fields. We had a picnic under some shady trees on top of a mountain and then hiked up to the remnants of the Chirax Castle (1200 meters). Chirax means 'lamp' and the castle was built in the 5th century by Persians. While in desperate need of repair, there seems to be little interest from the government, so it seems that this already crumbling historic landmark will someday soon be nothing but crumbs. Someone in our group remarked that the stone footbridge which we found collapsed in the middle was usable just a week ago.

How long does it take to schedule a mtg?

Apparently 2 wks is not enough time at the AZ Mortgage Fund. In an attempt to kick start the strategic planning process (one of my initial work plan items), I've very unsuccessfully tried to organize a meeting of 5 people (the director, his two deputies and someone from the strategic planning unit). Perhaps I could be more aggressive (more on that later) but I think not for lack of trying has this meeting failed to happen. I have gotten the various persons to agree to various times, before lunch, after lunch, in the morning, late in the afternoon. I've tried starting with the director, with one or more of the deputies, with the HR Manager who also strangely is the scheduler and serves tea . Meeting frustrations aside, this experience is shaping up to be very interesting (professionally at least). Impressions seem very important here, I might even say more so than substance or knowledge (maybe someone reading this would disagree if so I'd be interested in hearing your take on the whole first impression thing in AZ). To state something with bluster, or better yet calm knowing arrogance commands more respect than to ask questions that may lead to some insight. Either way, the folks at the Fund, especially the director doesn't seem to have much respect for my abilities or experience. He refers to me as an intern, which in reality is not terribly far off. Grace and others have pointed out that I need to present myself with more confidence (or even aggressiveness). I concur. I should state things that I know or have strong opinions about in a direct and assertive way. Is that a consulting thing? I have a difficult time telling the Fund leadership what to do and how to do it (even if they were to listen) since the task of establishing a mortgage market seems so daunting -- where do you start? what should be a priority? I just don't know most of this stuff. I suppose at the end of 12 months, if nothing else, I'll have learned to be a better consultant. Meanwhile, my two wk anniversary at the fund (located atop the central bank's sleek building - see picture) has come and gone with still no phone, no desk and no computer. To put that in context, it seems that many of the Fund staff are sharing computers; I see much desk swapping depending on who needs to use the computer or needs access to the internet (only 3 computers come with this luxury). I'll let you all know when the meeting happens.

on a good note, i played soccer for the first time in Baku this morning. We played on a worn down, sandy astro turf field -- the surface was perfect for my knee, soft and so broken down that it lost the usual astro turf stickiness. Anyway, my knee feels fine and i'll be back next wk if the guys will have me since i injured someone today and annoyed another guy with my supopsed 'aggressive' play. maybe i need to transfer my soccer tactics to the Fund.

Jim finally started work

Last week was my first official week at the Azerbaijan Mortgage Fund, the very reason why Grace and I moved from Brooklyn to Baku. I have to admit it was a less than glorious entrance. No introductions to other staff, just a conspicuous seat in the National Bank's (that's where the Fund is housed since it just started operations in 2006) library, no phone, no computer. I sit in a room that resembles highschool study hall -- there's even a library monitor whose job seems to be to organize the journals and reports that are housed there. The two deputy directors for the Fund also seat in this room (albeit w/ phones and computers). I need to pass through a large room where nearly all other Fund staff is situated in order to get to the library. This room I've learned is the dining hall for the National Bank of Azerbaijan's President and Board of Directors hence all staff must leave the room by 1:00 when he has his lunch there. I have communicated my desire to seat in the large room with the others (along w/ my desire to have a computer, telephone, security card) . . .we'll see. The project before me is totally fascinating though -- one that I couldn't have imagined working on even a year ago.

Anyway here are some more photos of YoYo Ma and his Silk Road Ensemble and Alim Qasimov, his daughter Ferqana and their group (all members of the ensemble). We, thanks to Sevda muellim's dogged persistence, were able to view and listen in on a captivating rehearsal session before the big Silk Road concert. It was amazing to watch and listen as these musicians figured out how to play together. It turns out that several members of the Silk Road Ensemble live in Brooklyn not too far from where Grace and I lived. The pipa was a revelation, such a full and rich sound from such a simple instrument (unfortunately no good photos). YoYo Ma was great with the children, Grace's assessment that he was like a big child himself was right on the mark. His intensity on the cello delighted the children. The music sprung naturally and easily from these musicians who learned to play their various instruments in different traditions. The silk road concepts of dynamic multiculturalism, idea exchange, hybrid creation was compellingly apparent. Best of all it was great to see that so much of the tour was about giving access to Azerbaijani children and the public at large -- no clear channel ticketron with these concerts. Check out the 'Postcards from Baku 2006' section on http://www.silkroadproject.org/

Qreys məşhur dir

I guess being a curiosity (english speaking Korean American) can naturally lead to these situations but Grace has found herself in the spotlight quite a few times. Here's a photo of Grace addressing a large room full of high achieving english language majors at Tefukkur Universitet (notice the gaze of Pres Alieyev on Grace). She was invited to get up and 'just say something' at a conference sponsored by the english language and grammar department at the university; we attended because our Azerbaijani teacher invited us -- she is a professor in the department. The University Dean doesn't seem to moved by Grace's talk however (he's the gentleman in the foreground).

Yo Yo Ma and the Silk Road Project

Yesterday, we got to see YoYo Ma's Silk Road Project play with Alim Qasimov and other mugam musicians. It was a free concert at the Baku Music Academy. When we (Sevda, Linda, Jim and I) came in the auditorium was packed with Azerbaijani students and teachers and they were in the middle of a Q&A session. Jim and I walked up towards the front. Jim gave YoYo the "Asian brother" nod, and YoYo looked at us and smiled back.

Meeting Alim Qasimov

Sevda was hilarious, "Qreys gel! Come! Bring the nağara, meet Alim, you must. You didn't meet Yo Yo but you can at least meet Alim." And so she pushes her way in and says a big shpeel about me playing the nağara and the korean drum. Alim seems not so interested and perhaps more put off by Sevda's assertiveness as she seems nonplussed by the fact that he is considered to be one of her country's treasures. She claims that Alim offered his nağara player's teaching talents to me and all the way out insists on looking for the nağara player. The greatest thing though as I was standing there nagara in hand, next to the world famous Alim Qasimov, students from the Baku Music Academy approach me with pen and paper asking for my autograph. I laugh and try to tell them in Azerbaijani that I am not a musician. You can see Linda smiling in amusement on the other side of Alim. The students look at me puzzled, hurt, and dejected.

My Moment of Fame

Oh alright... it seemed easier than looking at their dejection. I'm sure that that piece of paper will be worth thousands on ebay. Linda said something like, "To those students it's all the same -Yo yo Ma, Alim Qasimov, Grace Nam."

Day trip to Gobustan and the Mud Volcanoes

Gobustan was nice...a tourist spot. There were a lot of youth and school groups there although the children seemed to be more intrigued with us - a eclectic group of pilipino, korean, african, indian, austrian, egyptian, european faces. And while we questioned the authenticity of some of the petrogyphs, just hiking around the rocks and the geckos was worth the trip.

View from the mud volcanoes

It was a welcome relief from honking congested traffic and dusty construction sites to see the simple scene of three boys shepherding their flock of goats and sheep.

Farting Mud

After much talk in Brooklyn, we finally made it out to see the farting mud volcanoes! This was our first venture out of Baku and it was a much needed respite from the city. With folks from DC, NYC, Kazakstan, Krygystan, we hired a van and a driver to take us to mud volcanoes and Gobustan to see petrogyphs. The mud volcanoes were my favorite. There was not a building nor car in sight and all we could hear was the endearing gurgles of the mud bubbles...it felt serene out there. We left with souvenirs of mud encased shoes, fingers, pants...

Taeguki Troubles

My Korean pride caused a minor incident with the Azerbaijani officials. The S. Korean President Roh was in town on May 10-12 meeting with Aliyev and as a welcoming gesture the streets of Baku were lined with Korean and Azerbaijani flags. Jim and I tried hard to offer our volunteer services to a Uzbeki Korean women Yulia who was organizing activities surrounding Roh's visit and even were so bold as to call a local Chae Eun Sook to invite ourselves to the Korean residents luncheon. With the "We don't need help. We are already prepared for the President as he is coming tomorrow." Good poitn. We were a little disappointed as we came to terms with the fact that perhaps we were not high on Roh's priorities here in Baku. So I had to at least mark the historic occasion and personal good vibes with a few photos of the waving Taeguki in Baku. On my way to the children's palace (which is next to the president's office), I started to take photos. The guards looked at me and gestured to stop and then seemed to wave me off like it was okay. Doot doot doot doot doot on my way to class, I snap more photos and once I get to the palace I see a military guard there (who is normally not there). After a few minutes of arriving, Azad (my nagara teacher) asks me if I was taking photos and then tells me that the guard wants to talk to me. A little nervous but kind of thinking it's a joke, I talk to the guard in my basic Azerbaijani and show him my photos. After repeated explanations with the assorted men hanging around the palace and the guard talking into his walkie talkie, I am told to wait until the President's official come to talk to me. Azad seems too nervous and tells me he's going inside but I should wait there with guard. While waiting the guard looks at my photos and tells me to delete one. He then gets the one guy lingering around who speaks some English to tell me not to tell anyone I was asked to delete the photo. Uh huh okay. 30 minutes later, a very serious looking official drives up with a plain clothed man. I am asked basic questions, who I am, why am I here, where do I live, why am I at the children's palace. The official talks to Azad and another palace worker. Azad nods yes yes and anxiously adds that I also play the Korean drums and am a good student. The official does not look impressed. Walkie talkie walkie talkie. He hands me back my ID offers what I take to be an apology and then poof it's over-45 minutes later. You'd think that maybe someone would have told us... DO NOT TAKE PICTURES AROUND THE PRESIDENT'S OFFICE. Sevda's explanation was terrorist prevention. And then to top it off, on my way home, I take this shot of the taeguki which is much better.

Gül Bayramı

Gül Bayramı (flower holiday) was on May 10 which was also Əliyəv's birthday (which one though I can't seem to remember). The boulevard was filled with flower sculptures, portraits (see İlham Əliyəv), and crafts. Children's work was exhibited through their schools and many children performed. It got too crowded though and it was a welcome relief to find an empty table at a çayxana for some tea and company with Sevda, her daughter, and her sister in law.

Azerbaijani Cooking Lesson

Through our language school, we learned how to cook Toyuq Levengi (Chicken stuffed with walnuts and onions). Jim's favorite part was when the soğan (onion) was put through the ət maşın (meat grinder). This is the one we didn't cook as Nargiz our teacher for the night like the pros had some already prepared... Nuş Olsun it was yummy! And no bird flu resulted as far as we know...

Uşaglar oynayır!

One of my favorite things is to sit on our balcony that overlooks this courtyard. We usually see boys playing futbol and occasionally children with their caregiver playing on the playground equipment. On this day I see a group of young children from the neighboring school. It makes me remember how much I love watching children play. It was a joy hearing the familiar sounds of children playing. Unfortunately, I have seen very few other play spaces for children in Baku so this courtyard feels like a rare luxury in the city.

Nağara Dərsi - Drum lessons

The drum lessons have begun! Linda and I found a nağara müəllimi, Azad, at the uşaq sarayı (children's palace of creative work). It's always fun to see the children's surprised and curious expressions when they see the big foreign students at their palace of creative work. I have to say that drumming makes all the difference for me. I have missed playing with Daderaegi (my Korean drumming group) back in NYC and drumming here feels like a cathartic and energizing way to connect to Baku. I find myself walking home from class, chanting and beating the rhythyms on my legs... dum dum du ba dam dum da ba dap da ba.

If you're flying to baku in the near future . . .

In the runup to our recent trip back to the states, we researched a torturous number of itinerary combinations. We considered an aeroflot flight that would strand us in moscow for nearly 11 hours with the potential for an additional 12 hours if the baku leg was cancelled at the last minute. Various itineraries that would take us through Istanbul or Paris tempted us. We even thought about biting the bullet and going w/ a 'safe' convenient (i.e. more frequent than 2x connections per week) airline like lufthansa or british air. Ultimately we went with AERO SVIT or as they prefer: Aero Svit, The Ukrainian Airline. With a surprisingly short layover in kiev (just 1.5 hrs), a low price (a little over 800USD) and none (that we could find anyway) of aeroflot's scary reputation, we thought we'd found the proverbial diamond in the rough, teh underdog. After our recent experiences, I can't say I wouldn't do it again -- I am a cheapskate after all: On the baku-kiev-nyc leg, we were required to check baggage b/c we exceeded 5kg max for carry on and in the confusion (customers yelling at aerosvit employees, angry aerosvit reps intermittently ignoring then screaming back), we forgot to take out our new digital camera and cell phone. . . you can guess what what we didn't find at jfk. I filed a stolen/lost item inquiry w/ jfk and was instructed to followup w/ the airline. When I did, the aerosvit rep accused me of trying to take advantage of The Ukranian Airline and told me to write a letter to customer service (to his attention) even though he assured me that "nothing can be done". On the return leg to baku, we locked up all our checked baggage except for one that was filled w/ clothes and other things w/ little value. In baku we found this bag had been thoroughly rummaged (Grace's makeup/toiletry bag was left zipped open).

On a side note, we had lunch w/ an expat here a few days who recounted a strange experience of her own on The Ukrainian Airline. At Baku's Aliyev Airport, she was approached by a man w/ a pair of large iron shears, wrapped in saran wrap. He asked her to carry this on for him since he was over his weight limit. When she told him no, he congratulated her on her excellent common sense and indicated that she had 'passed' the aerosvit test. We were never given w/ such a exam.

So I don't know if I have a recommendation. We probably saved 300-400usd per ticket vs. a larger airline (Turkish Air). We made all our connections. I'd say go w/ aerosvit if you're a cheapskate like me, don't expect to carryon much, lock up your checked bag and bring food on board (the food was stale, mooshy and creamy).

Capian Pipeline Series on NPR/ Aliyev visits Bush

NPR reporter Ivan Watson has been reporting on the infamous Caspian pipeline that runs a circuitous route linking Azerbaijan to Europe. We found both the pipeline series and the reporter''s notebook to be interesting and worth listening to if you want more information about the region. He also reports on the current Nagorno-Karabagh conflict although admittedly has not yet visited Armenia for a complete perspective.


Check out the NPR series: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5348075

The US backs the pipeline and with the concerns regarding Iran, the momentous visit by President Ilham Aliyev to the US this week should be interesting to follow as well.

http://www.today.az/news/politics/25548.html
http://www.today.az/news/politics/25571.html

In LA... always fun to see old roommate and pal Chuan Chen.

Larry in our Brooklyn home on his first day of the master cleanse. Lemons, syrup, and pepper oh my! We look forward to the photos of what is cleansed out... 

Prospect Park Brooklyn in full spring bloom 

Nam clan gathered for their last supper at Ron and Clara's in Maryland... check out the backdrop. Where are the Jims?

Namboos of three soon to be four (sorry... four soon to be five right daphne?) 

Walking through the Muddy Creek Park aka Ron and Clara's backyard. 

Sarah's dad worries - will the rain let up? And thankfully good wedding omens prevail and the rain and umbrellas soon go away.

Baek parents and just married Sarah and Dan 

Before the ceremony, the Baek clan gathers for a photo. 

Visit to the states - part 2

After the excitement of NYC, we traveled to LA to see family and help celebrate my brother, Dan’s wedding. He and his fiancée (now wife), Sarah, got married at the Pasadena Ritz-Carlton, a grand historic hotel with spectacular grounds. It alternately drizzled and hazed all morning but in a wonderful omen ceased shortly after 11AM clearing the way for a beautiful ceremony. It was great to see my family – my aunt and her husband came from Korea and an uncle from Canada whom I hadn’t seen in 30 years also attended. I was particularly happy for my cousin, Ja-Young, who has been living with my parents in Illinois for the last several years and hadn’t seen her parents (the aunt and uncle who came from Korea) during that time. Grace and I were also able to squeeze in fun but too brief visits with friends: Chuan, Clement and Angelica.

From LA, we caught a flight to DC to relax with Grace’s family who had gathered at her sister and husband's, Clara and Ron, new home in Gaithersburg, MD. Their beautiful spacious house which sits on a lovely lot adjacent to a county park was just the respite that we needed. How great to be able to walk in their backyard to miles of trees, wildflowers, running creek, and deer. Our niece, Stella, provided most of the entertainment but sitting on the deck reading and watching the avian visitors to Clara and Ron’s extensive collection of feeders (without worrying about the flu btw) offered pure bliss. I even went to the driving range where, despite guidance and advice from Grace’s dad and Jim Boos (aka puppykitty), I managed to do more whiffing than driving.

Then we had our final fews days back in NYC. We love NYC (our most recent home prior to Baku), and with its environs in full green growth and lush bloom, its restaurants/cafes and parks at capacity with children giddy to be in shorts and adults giddy to be free from their winter captivity - we especially love it in springtime. We were able to stay in our old Bklyn apartment; very nice to able to wake up in familiar surroundings – thanks Hyojung & Larry. All this was great but it was actually hanging with many of our wonderful friends that reminded us of why we love NYC and why it feels like home. Unfortunately we weren’t able to see everyone we’d hope to see on this trip but hey you guys can always visit us Baku! (We may actually have visitors as Songbae and Ted have decided to quit their jobs and put their chicago mbas to use by spending the summer wildcatting in the Caspian)

Visit to the states - part 1

In case anyone missed us during the last few weeks of radio silence, we were back in the States for 12 days of visits with family and friends. We were more than happy to indulge in a hectic schedule that took us from Baku to NYC to LA to the DC area and back to NYC before our return to Baku.

The ‘official purpose’ of our visit was to attend my brother’s wedding in CA. But before that, we joined friends for an immigrant rights march in NYC that proved to be the perfect homecoming for us. The demonstration was part of a nationwide set of rallies to show support for progressive immigration reform and denounce efforts to further criminalize immigrants. The LA Times has been providing some of the best coverage of the recent immigrant rights rallies:

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-immig11apr11,0,3783.story?coll=la-home-headlines

Grace even donned a minbok, strapped on her buk and joined Dadaraegi, her Korean poongmul drumming troupe, and several other NYC-area poongmul groups, one of which was comprised entirely of seniors, for the occasion. At one point, Seung Jin, who was playing the geng-gari and leading the poongmul drummers engaged in a jazzy back and forth with a South American brass band. Folks who had come from all over the world to America to work hard and forge a better future for themselves and their families were represented. YKASEC – Empowering the Korean American Community, a NYC based advocacy and service organization which has played a prominent regional role in pushing for progressive reform led a large contingent of Korean Americans. In addition to many seniors, I saw teenagers, college students, children, whole families. It felt so hopeful. I’ve never been one for patriotism but marching down Broadway, I never felt more excited and inspired to be in America – not sure if that qualifies as patriotism? After 6 weeks of being stared at in Baku with its relative lack of diversity, multicultural NYC felt like I don’t know . . . a bite of crisp, pungent kimchee, a comforting embrace. It was hard to guess how many folks participated but it seemed like the march stretched from City Hall all the way to Canal Street – we never made it past Leonard Street in Tribeca. Apparently some 500,000 marched in D.C. and Dallas as part of the April 10 activities.

I have to echo Jim... the immigrant rights march was incredibly moving. Many unforgettable images remain planted in my memories. . . playing poongmul with Daderaegi and halmoni's and haraboji's (Korean grandmas and pas) along side Latino drummers and a bugler playing "America the Beautiful" . . . the delighted surprised looks of many Latino faces upon seeing the Korean drummers chanting with them, "Si se puede!" . . . and the petite haraboji getting down with a young large African American woman, who after 30 minutes of hands in the air and shaking all her good stuff walks away from the jubilant crowd and says to her friends,"We should really get back to class..." Really one of the rare moments where shouting "We are America" feels just right. I only wish the press filmed/documented the amazing hopeful and united energy on Broadway and Leonard!

We'll upload another post on our trip later but meanwhile, we're back in Baku now and need to get ready for class tomorrow. Our triumphant return didn't quite turn out as we got into a shouting match with the cab driver at the airport. He insisted that despite what the official looking signs displayed the normal price for a ride to central Baku was 70,000 manat and that for the 60,000 manat price that he, a minute earlier, agreed to, he would have to pick up another passenger. After threatening to leave the cab, he acquiesced and took us home . . . Bakiya xos gelmissiniz (welcome to Baku)!

Tanis olun?

We thought we should do a proper introduction to names we often mention... Tanis olun? Bu Sevdadir - bizim azerbaycanja muellimimiz. Bu Lindadir. For the last month and for the next week, we spend every day together, 25 hours a week. Fortunately we get into random and interesting conversations with Sevda about Azerbaijan and America - cox maragli! And we all like to laugh and eat snacks. Here Sevda has taken on us on a field trip to Martyrs Alley and the National Cemetary (we'll try to post that trip later).

Novrus bayraminiz mubayrek!

Last week (March 20 & 21)we celebrated the spring holiday. The literal translation is New Day holiday happy! (The verb goes at the end in Azerbaijani.) Norm, a summer mba corp member, kindly had his former host family invite us (me, jim and linda) to their house for the Novrus bayram. For the holiday, people do a big spring cleaning and children get new clothes or presents. People also put out samani, which looks like wheat grass to symbolize spring. My favorite part of the holiday starts the four Tuesdays before Novrus. On each of the Tuesday nights, people make bonfires that symbolize each of the four elements (water, wind, fire and earth). People (usually boys) jump over the fires and in the act leave their problems in the fire. To our delight, we were able to jump over the fire and leave all our problems behind (see photo). The firebuilders, two local boys, were just as entertaining to watch as they scavanged for random doors, planks, poles to break with a cement block or their jumping weight.

Another novrus custom is similar to Halloween. The door bell rang several times throughtout the evening. Upon opening the door, there sat abandoned random caps and hats. Kamilla and Elton would fill the hats with nuts, candies, money, fruit and placed them back on the door mat. I was curious to see the caps' owners and was told that hide and wait until the door closes to retrieve their caps and goods. Kamilla and Elton indulged me and watched through the peep and... opened the door for me to see and inadvertantly scare the children away (though really looked to be about 14 years old). They were too fast to get a decent photo...

The sisters Aygun and Kamilla (the two blond women - see photo above) cooked yummy plov toyugsuz (traditional rice dish without chicken). It did have the traditional dried fruit and circled fried patties that had been on the bottom of the pan (to prevent rice from burning I think). It was nice and crunchy (see photo below). Of course, there was some lamb cooked with some apricots and vegetables which were very good. It was really nice to experience the novrus bayram with an Azerbaijani family and they were incredibly welcoming. Aygun and Kamilla both are English teachers and their children are or have studied in the States. Abbas who went to high school in Texas spoke English very well. Fortunately, we get to practice our very basic Azerbaijani with Abbas' dad, Shaklar who did not speak English.

Novrus Bayram is one of the biggest holiday in Azerbaijan and accordingly the city was decked out in festive red, green, and white lights! Novrus bayraminiz mubayrek!

Alim and Fergane Gasimov- Mugam Singers

We finally have internet connection again... we have moved into our yeni eminiz (new home) and I can tell you about Alim and Fergane...

We saw the world famous much beloved Alim Gasimov and his daughter Fergane. They are Azerbaijani mugam singers and musicians. Mugam is an Azerbaijani traditional folk style of music. It reminded us of Korean pansori music. Their voices were incredibly powerful and haunting. Their voices carried vibrations that reverberated in our bodies. As they sang they played hand drums and danced as they sat on cushions. They were backed up by four musicians who played string, percussion, and brass instruments. It was such a "Yeah! We're in Baku" moment. It was really exciting to see and hear them live especially as we were told that Alim doesn't perform very often as he travels and performs all over the world.

The concert was held in a beautiful concert hall named after of course, Heyder Eliyev and though we thought about dressing up a little, we ended up in jeans - me. Jim, and Linda. Of course, as we walk into the packed auditorium, all eyes were on us scanning and frowning us up and down and we walk up and down the stairs looking for our seats. We still have yet to figure out the Azerbaijani word for foreigner... in Thai it is "farang" which always seemed the perfect word, sounding like it conveyed all the loadedness of being a "farang." And so it was truly a farang moment here in Baku.

Anyway we got over it and thoroughly enjoyed the music and left the concert feeling inspired. Jim even was touched on the arm and thanked, "Cox sagol" for coming to hear their much treasured Alim and Fergane. DaDeRaeGi (my Korean poongmul group) in NYC was in my thoughts, wishing that I could share Alim and Fergane's mugam with them. And then I realized I could...if you would like a sample of mugam and particularly Alim Gasimov check out the link below. It's in Azerbaijani but you can easily find Alim (maybe Fergane too). Insallah,

http://www.azerimusic.net/

Jim's new pastime

As we've mentionned we live on a busy corner with a lot of traffic. Jim is fascinated, enraged, and generally occupied by the cars, traffic, and in particular the late night racing. The other night, at around 2 or 3 in the morning, I hear him dart out of bed and open the window shades. I hear him mutter, "What are they doing!" He stands by the window, watching, and shaking his head for at least 10-15 minutes.

In Azeri class, Sevda taught us the word surucu which means driver and Jim jumped at the chance to ask, "What do you know about the racing that happens late at night?" After a few more exchanges, Sevda was able to understand that Jim was not asking about professional racing drivers, and confirmed that yes late at night young men like to race because they are bored but the police will stop them if they catch them. Sevda referred to the young men as something that sounded like the Azeri version of "hooligan." Jim seemed satisfied and nodded his head in agreement that indeed they were hooligans. And then impressed Sevda by saying, "Bakida cox masinlar var!" (In Baku there are so many cars!)

Another late night, I didn't hear his fast dart to the window. I imagine he probably scrowled and wagged his finger at the cars in a Mr.- Wilson -Dennis-the-Menace sort of way. And then upon seeing the "hooligans" receive their just desserts, I can imagine his nodding head thinking and muttering, "That'll teach 'em..." And with that, Jim snapped the photos of the racing crashing hooligans in the act... Gotcha!

Qu Qolu

Last weekend, Grace and I attended a production of Tchaikovsky's Qu Qolu "Swan Lake" at the Baku Opera & Ballett Theatre.

The story goes that the theatre was built by a love smitten early 20th century oil baron in an attempt (successful) to convince the object of his affection, an Italian opera singer, to perform in Baku by promising a glamorous venue. Perhaps this is similar to purchasing a midlife crisis-fueled Porsche (or launching an expensive overseas war if you happen to be a Texas oil baron).

Anyway, several things about the experience struck me. First, the entire Asian population of Baku must have received the Qu Qolu memo because we saw more Asians at the theater than we had during our first week in Baku combined. A significant chunk of our section was comprised of Mandarin speakers who seemed to all know one another -- we felt left out. Second, audience members felt no compunction about snapping photos or answering calls during the actual performance. Seeing some huge flashes go off, I sheepishly joined in (see above). We're finding that mobile phones are never turned off in Baku. The other strange thing for us was to see performers curtsie and bow for audience applause in the middle of an act. Kind of like a jazz drummer getting kudos after a solo riff, dancers would receive (wait for?) applause after completing a movement series. Back to impressions of the theater: the interior was beautiful with ornate designs encircling the main overhead chandelier and along the side boxes. The chamber's excellent acoustics highlighted the orchestra's impressive musicianship. Outside, the building really stood out with its lavish detailing and minaret-like flourishes. I'm ballet-ignorant so I won't opine on the performance but it along with the interesting surrounds kept us relatively engaged for the 3 hours.

For more info: http://www.azer.com/aiweb/categories/magazine/64_folder/64_articles/OilBarons/64.operaballet.html

Dental work in Baku . . .

Amidst the craziness of packing and saying goodbyes two weekends ago, I broke a filling in my mouth. With their assortment of metal picks and scythes, dentists always scared me. In the waiting room, I could always hear the awful whirl of drills and other excavating tools mining away. My NY dentists also seemed to house themselves in dingy spaces: a storefront with smelly carpet, cramped musty walkups and inevitably there was the spiddle encrusted examination light. "How much worse could it get? I'll take care of it in Baku". Our language teacher, Sevda, gave me a reference to her dentist, apparently a former english student. Sevda was enthusiastic about me going to her former student since she had apparently studied under a Korean dental professor and knew the location of the Korean Cultural Center. Following Sevda's directions, I found myself exiting the taxi on a busy 3-lane street, outside Baku's city center. There it was, Stomotolog (dentist in russian), at the base of an old apt block, adjacent to an even more grisly building and not too far from an abandoned factory. Two security guards (why guards at a dental office?) were smoking at the entrance as I approached. The waiting area was orderly and a bemused receptionist gestured for me to sit on the leather couch. She quickly ducked into one of the exam rooms and then just as quickly reappeared. Sunlight blazed in through the tall windows, making the white walls even more intense. On a wall hung helpful posters from Colgate demonstrating what healthy and unhealthy teeth look like. As my eyes wandered around the office, a door opened and a dentist peeked out. "Sevda?", she asked. I nodded my head unsure. The exam room was cleaner than those I'd frequented in Bklyn or New York. The tools looked clean. I was pleasantly surprised. I was even more pleased when she numbed me up -- I have to admit, excerpts from the movie Marathon Man had been flashing through my head so confirmation that anesthetics were used in Baku was a RELIEF. As she ground off my old metal filling, Ayurna noted that Baku dentists consider enamel to be outmoded and ugly. She communicated that she would be using another (tooth colored) material for the filling. I should mention that my old dental insurance didn't cover tooth colored fillings. Ayurna and her two assistants had some difficulty making the filling stick and they were distracted when a brace that had been taken out for the next patient was dropped (five minutes of searching the floor ensued) but otherwise the whole visit was a breeze (I've been indiscriminantly eating away since the filling repair with no problems). I paid about $23. On a side note Ayurna did study under a Dr. Kim in Tashkent -- two large certificates on the wall proclaimed this. And while she appreciated the Korean's orthodontic skills, she was not so fond of Korean cuisine or at least its Uzbek version. On a further tangent Ayurna confirmed, no korean food in Baku . . . I sure do miss kimchee.

Happy International Women's Day! Today we celebrate womenhood and have a day off from our vacation of Azeri language school and wandering the city. . . we'll fest on curry fried rice and watch TransAmerica.

Forest of Towers

Everywhere we walk, we see highrises in construction. Baku seems to be in the midst of massive development. The smaller buildings are dwarfed by the ominous presence of the towers that are closing in on them. Many of the construction sites seem to be abandoned and left half done. From what we've gathered, buildings are going up way too fast and not within seismic codes. We were told by an Azeri that Azeris do not want to live on high floors as they know the buildings have not been built safely. Because there is little access to tims timber or other building materials, cement (or cheap mixes) are typically used and then are rarely seasoned properly and are rushed to finish. Pretty scary as Baku sits on a seismic fault line. I guess we should feel safe in our Soviet building on the 6th floor . . . We are learning that people with money have little access to investment other than real estate (and cars!). So regardless of need or any real city planning these towers are being developed. There are more than 500 towers (15-25 stories) that have been put up or are in construction since 2000 and there doesn't seem to be a real need for that much housing, especially ones that are going for $2000-3000/sq meter, with no parking facilities! Well we are certainly getting a feel for a developing economy. It'll be interesting to see how Jim's work with the mortgage lending fits into all of this . . .

Salam

Salam. Menim adim Qreysdir. O Cimdir. Bu axsam Tblisis restorana yediq. O yaxsidi! Sonra eve getiq. (minus many of the accents)
Hello. My name is Grace. He is Jim. Tonight we ate at a Tlibisis restaurant. It was good! Then we went home.

We started Azeri language classes and as you can see we are fully conversational. Today we had 7 hours of class and I got a little giddy and started to convulse with silent laughter as Cim said, "Xehr, mandarin bes kilo yediq?" (No, you ate 5 kilos of oranges.) I'm sure it's only funny in you-had-to-be-there-land. Classes though are going well and they are pretty informal and effective. We like our teacher Sevda and Linda who is the other MBA Corp member, which make class enjoyable. Cim is pretty endearing to watch as he is called on and seems startled and his eyes dart around the room, he thumps his fingers on his forehead and cheek before beginning to answer Sevda's questions.

Mom, you were right, Azeri is similar to Korean. The sentence structure is the same where you end the sentence with the verb. It's a phonetic language where all the sounds are pronounced and they remain consistent. The sounds are pure and full. As Sevda says, "Fully use your mouth, your lips, enjoy the movements. . ." Learning Azeri also rejevenated what little Korean I know . . . last night I started to yell for Jim in my random Korean for about 10 minutes (Jung Hyeon, come here. I'm cold. Stop using the computer. Come here. Let's sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow morning. I'm so cold. Rockhead come here. I love you. . .)

Ah, but back to the restoran . . . it was our first try at the much praised Georgian food. And it was quite good. The server was also really sweet and one of the smilest people we've meant so far save Zaur, the IT guy at ACDI-VOCA. And to make it truly an occasion, the lights went out at the end of our meal - which is why it's dark inside - look closely at the photo. I think Tbilis will be one of our favorites. And lucky for us it's right around the corner from our ev (home). Sagol, Qreys (Bye, Grace)

This view from our kitchen terrace shows the mad traffic on Rashid Bebhudov St. The honking reaches a peak around 6pm but it remains congested well into the evening. The copper toned glass building on the right is the conveniently located (well to me anyway) National Bank of Azerbaijan (aka NBA) where my project will be located. I hope to be able to awake a few minutes before 9am still make it to work on time. Thanks to Nargiz and Turkan @ acdi-voca for finding the apt for us. Across Rashid Bebhudov from the NBA building is a plaza (Fuzuli park) that seems dedicated to Heydar Aliyev, the former president and father of the current president. His pictures are everywhere. . .

Jim ponders deep thoughts as he looks over at the oil drills . . . 

Popcorn, everywhere popcorn, one of my favorite things about Baki 

march 1, 2006 - caspian sea

Yesterday we found the Caspian Sea, the Coney Island of Baki. We dodged the merciless traffic and made it safely to the boardwalk. It was windy and somewhat sunny and felt much like being in the Bay Area. I felt the wind blow through my brain and chill my bones. Jim, happy with the camera, took many photos of the hodgepodge of carnival rides along the boardwalk. The bumper cars were being repaired and there were very few people riding any of them. Carnivals anywhere feel depressing to me. And then you add the backdrop of oil drills, crumbling piers, sallowed trees and scrubs that have been displaced and were longing for home . . . But then I catch the sweet smell of something good and the frequent sightings of plastic bags half filled with yum yum popcorn and I am smiling. Soon enough we find the vendor and like McDonald's, different place same great taste! Then as if the popcorn created an aura of serendipity, we see young men playing soccer/futbol. They are playing with a giant tennis ball in their socks! Then we hear the rhythmic sounds of a horn and drum that compel us to find the source - two older men chatting and playing on bench . . . we sit and listen, as I munch on my popcorn.

Musicians we enjoyed along our Caspian Sea stroll 

The Coney Island of Baki (as the Azeris write it) 

This brooklyn view is familiar to all those who have gotten keys thrown down at them b/c we're too lazy to walk down and answer the door. 

first home cooked meal in baku 

not a pretty nor fragrant sight 

february 27, 2006

So we are here in the blustery honking city of Baku. We are living in a Soviet era building - the outside is boxy and drab, but once you step into the apartment, it is quite nice for a so called hardship placement. The one hardship that may drive me to drink the Baku vodka is the neverending honking that serves as the audio backdrop. We are told that locals say that the honking is a form of team spirit, drivers cheering each other on through the light. That's an incredibly pleasant spin to the grating horns. As I write, the landlord and his colleague work on our bidet. They have pulled the porcelain off the floor exposing a brownish gray sludge... the smell wafts into the living room. And then 2 hours later, 2 trips later to the "magazin," the landlord and his colleague have fixed the bidet! I am impressed - that's pretty efficient and timely service.

Yesterday, we walked around one part of the city. There are sections where car traffic is cut off and it is safe for pedestrians to ramble and roam. Cell shops galore and many theatres -opera, children's theatre. A street child came and pulled on Jim's leg as we walked. Paul, the contact from ACDI VOCA told us that there are some street children/adults who may pickpocket. This boy looked aged beyond his years (a 4 year old in a 2 year old body). His pleading seemed automatic and there was a older man following - his caretaker or minder (depending on how you want to look at it). Sad.

As we walked, the smell of popcorn caught my nose. It seemed to be everywhere. Then Jim spotted a street vendor selling some and got me a bag for 22 cents. Yum yum. We were tired so we decided to grocery shop and cook. Jim was excited to make cheese sandwiches but alas, the "cheese" was a big hunk of butter and so we dipped into our prized limited treasure of ramen noodles. Unable to find silverware, we ate ramen noodles with large pitchfork type serving utensils. We had some bread as well which is delicious (like naan) super ma-shee-suh.