Something I've noticed about how I've been speaking since I've returned is how often I make observations in reference to Tajikistan. Partially because I now feel like I have stories to tell, and partially because I am still processing all of the trip, it seems that every other sentence begins with: "In Dushanbe/Tajikistan, they would/seemed to think/acted like..." or "Another interesting thing about Dushanbe/Hissor/Varzob/Tajikistan..." or some other such phrasing. I feel bad for poor Katie, who planned out this belated anniversary/birthday trip as a vacation for us (okay, I don't feel that bad; we're still having a great time) and has to listen to me babble on about Tajikistan and the many things I noticed there. Still, I think it is important for me to feel comfortable mentally working through all of what the trip meant and means to me. I find myself thinking about how crazy, or interesting, or just plain cool some of the experiences and cultural standards are, and I think a post-trip reflection is in order.
- No one wears seatbelts in Tajikistan. Besides everyone being a racecar driver, they also seem to genuinely lack a fear of danger in the car. Pedestrians cross the street with oncoming cars flying toward them, and cars just beep at people in the road without slowing down. I don't think I want to be that fearless.
- The standards for feeling shame about staring and asking personal questions are vastly different in Dushanbe. One of the main things I noticed in Dushanbe was how often people openly stared, giggled, pointed, laughed, waved, and followed me and us. Also, probably the most asked question outside of, "How are you?" was "Are you married?" followed by "Do you have a girlfriend?" followed by "Do you plan to get a Tajik wife?" Easily within the first 10 sentences of almost every conversation.
- Nikruz, Bobo and I were walking down the street one day; I don't remember where or why. I think it was to the university for an excursion. Anyway, we passed a kid on the street (couldn't have been more than 12) who said as we walked by, "Che farqe farhangi," in a curious voice. After a few steps, I realized he'd just said, "What a cultural difference," referring to us.
- You can negotiate the price on nearly everything in Tajikistan. I once paid 20C for a set of postcards which were listed at 25C. AT THE POST OFFICE.
- I find myself sitting anxiously in cars here, wondering why the driver isn't cutting off the person ahead of us or taking a dangerous turn that we really shouldn't take.
- I love the American speed of service. Last night Katie and I went to dinner, and not once did we have to ask for more water, or request another drink, or replace anything. The server asked us if we wanted anything.
- Water doesn't cost 2.50C, and I don't have to drink it out of a bottle.
- One of the things we noticed in Tajikistan is how little people rely on the internet. My host family didn't even have a computer (that we could see; to be fair, they did have a room that I never entered. Nikruz, confirmation on the back room?) or internet access in the house. One of the most annoying things about the trip was going into the computer room and not having internet, with no discernible reason other than someone hadn't turned on the connection. However, plenty of cafes and restaurants had WiFi. I think that must cater to the expat/Russian communities in the city. Probably my biggest mistake of the trip was not taking my laptop. Also, one of the greatest parts of being back is having internet at all times, in all places, already paid for.
- Everything is national in Dushanbe. ACT was in the national library; we studied at the national university; we visited the national museum. It seems that Tajikistan is a nation searching for its identity, and in its search has decided everything important must be named the "national" such-and-so.
- There was plenty of what Bobo called "Construction of Stupidity" in the city. From the largest flagpole with the largest flag, to the soon-to-be World's Largest Teahouse, plenty of funding seems to have been spent on things that contribute little to the country's services and people, but lots to its bragging rights.
- Everyone seems older in Tajikistan. Partially because everyone gets married and has children younger (this is especially hard on the women - our host mother was younger than me and has three), and partially because life is generally harder and people die younger, everyone seemed to be older than they really were. Sharif's father was the same age as my father, but I thought the man was at least 65.
- Tajiks don't drink water. I did not once see anyone in our house besides Nick and me drink water, ever. Not even out of the tap. They actually strongly believe that drinking water at all while you are sick will make it worse, and that you should only drink tea or compote as a general rule. It is actually really disturbing.
- People assume all foreigners know Russian, and most of what is spoken on the street is either Russian outright, or Tajik with a healthy helping of Russian words. If you are speaking Tajiki to someone, they will probably start by answering in Russian. If you say you don't speak Russian, they will respond with a sentence that is about half Russian, or a full Tajiki sentence which is mumbled. If you didn't hear correctly and ask them to repeat it, they will assume you don't know Tajiki and go back to full Russian.
- Apparently, after taxes and all other costs, it is about $120K standard to buy a car in Tajikistan. Somehow, every extended family has at least one car.
No comments:
Post a Comment