Saturday, January 2, 2010

What I'm Thinking About

Good day, campers! Rise and shine (although I'm not sure what time of day it will be when you read this...if you read this)! Better put on your booties, 'cause it's...unseasonably warm in Baku. At this time last year, we were finally rolling out to the rayons on this day. There was a freakin' blizzard in Baku (We were embarrassingly falling all over the sidewalks.) last year, and we were stuck here for an extra night, which wasn't too bad because we got to chill in the Peace Corps lounge, with its D.V.D.'s and Internet. Oh yeah, and our friends were also there, but who needs friends when you have that kind of electronic stimulation? I mean, you should look at us now in my buddy Corey's apartment. We're connected to Dlink's (whoever that is) wireless (which only works in one room of the house. You have to understand the geography of leeching others' Internet.). Two computers are sitting open on the kitchen table, and I'm son a bed next to Mariel, an AZ7, who has a computer sitting on her lap. We aren't talking to one another, and why would we?

So what's it like in old Azerbaijan these days, anyway? One one note my friend Corey, who has the sweet apartment in Baku, was a volunteer in the rayon of Davachi. He eventually decided to give that up and take a job in Baku teaching English at Baku Oxford school. Considering the fact that he makes over a thousand Manat a month now and he's spending time in the classroom with students that speak great English, I wouldn't say his decision was too bad. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that his apartment is simply lovely, with a washing machine. Seriously, a washing machine. Have you heard of these things? They're simply wild. You take your clothes and put them in there with a little soap. The clothes get shaken around for a little while and, voila, they're clean. I've never seen anything like it. They must run on witchcraft or something.

Anyway, what the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah, I guess I can't entirely blame Mr. Corey for putting a halt to the Peace Corps gig and taking up a nice job in the big city. I mean, considering how often I come and stay in his apartment, my feelings can't be too negative. He's a good dude.

Okay, I'm not gonna lie here, people. I don't know what I'm doing at the ol' computer right now. I simply decided, with the quick access to Internet, to just get on the web log and write. I've also been enjoying myself pretty thoroughlly in the Baku for the past couple days, which, as you can imagine, can put one in an interesting place.

So what's it like in January in Azerbaijan? Well, let me tell you this. You see, January is the month after December and before February. It's also the first month of the year. Last year, I don't recall doing anything in January, besides starting to teach and being overwhelmed by the amount of time I'd be in Azerbaijan. When you're unsure of what the heck you're doing but entirely sure of exactly how long you'll...uh...be unsure of what you're doing, your spirit goes into a, to say the least, interesting place, but that's life, eh? Mountains and valleys, strikes and gutters, you know. I can honestly say, at this point, that I'm glad I'm here and most certainly happy I've stayed in this lovely country through the ups and downs.

I'm pretty much planning on not doing much for the next couple months. By "not doing much", I mean I don't think I'll be going anywhere too exotic, unless you count Ismael's market in downtown Qumlaq exotic. Sometimes he has chocolate covered dates in his store. I mean, that's pretty crazy, huh? What's next...uh...tacos stuffed with...eh...peanut butter? Okay, my attempt to be witty has failed, although I must say that, after eating the same three Azerbaijani meals for over a year, I probably wouldn't turn down a peanut butter taco. It's actually not a horrible idea. You're pretty much just taking the best of Mexico and America and putting them together. At last. Okay, that was truly unnecessary.

Alright, now I really don't know what I'm talking about or why I even sat down at the computer to write this stupid thing in the first place. I humbly apaologize to anyone who's actually reading this. I swear, if anyone were to open up my head and peer in, I fear it would be similar to splitting an atom. Sure it looks harmless at first, but just crack that thing open and all kinds of nonsense would burst out. I don't recommend it, which might justify my quitting to write at this very monent, for mine and your sake.

Seriously, you're free to navigate ("Navigate". There's a great word for surfing the Internet. What are we? Sailors?) away from this web log and go check out Wikipedia at any time. I mean, how else are you going to know about major court cases in Madison County Mississippi in September of 1965, or who the governor of Montana is? This knowledge doesn't just teach itself.

Alright, I guess I'd better log off and figure out what I'm going to do today. I'm sorry if you're on the brink of dozing off on your keyboard. I mean, if you do, just make sure your nose doesn't land on one of the keys. It'd be embarrassing if someone were to walk by you at your computer to see ten thousand commas on the address bar. I don't think the Internet would recognize that.

2 comments:

Whitney Kimmel said...

Haha, I <3 this post! Especially the bit about the washing machine. I literally can relate to every word, bro. Every word. Oh, life as a PCV.

xo W

Paula Bean said...

Hah. Let me preface this comment by saying I did NOT stalk you. Kind of. I'm a PCV in the neighboring country of Georgia, and I was browsing PCblogs (because school's on break, and I can't think of anything less productive to do with my time than to commiserate with others similarly going through the motions day-to-day in exotic faraway lands). Needless to say, the reference to the highly sought-after destination "Tbilisi" caught my eye, and I decided to see what someone who wanted to go to Tbilisi for vacation was thinking about.

Now I'm sorry I did, because I have an uncanny craving for peanut butter tacos. Or choco tacos. But the Georgians took the ice cream away in like October!

Hah, whatever. Keep on truckin', sir.