This entry might be relevant for all you teachers out there…or…maybe really for anyone with a steady job. It’s about a change every now and then, and, hey, a little change never hurt anybody.
Anyway, what am I getting at here? Good question. I wanna reflect on something Dad told me years ago when I started working for AC&T, an oil company in Hagerstown. He told me it’s pretty easy to go to work on your first day. What counts, though, is getting up and going the next day, and the next, and so on, even when you don’t want to.
Seeing as Peace Corps is my first job out of college (We’ll leave out any complications and just say that Peace Corps is a job, okay?), this is really my first consistent, year-round commitment. It is my job. I must get up every school day and teach eighth, ninth, and tenth formers with my counterpart, and as I go about each day, my dad’s words reverberate in my head.
Let’s go back to January. The New Year’s holiday was over, and it was my first opportunity to stand in the front of the class in Qumlaq and teach the students. I remember that day so well. I had my snazzy new black coat on, and I gave an enthusiastic, entertaining lesson. It was fun.
Eventually January turned into February. February into March. So on and so forth. I mean, I love the kids, but, every day? Every day I gotta put together a decent lesson and make the kids learn. I gotta sit in the teachers’ room and be sociable. I gotta have patience when the students don’t understand or when they act out. Not only do I have to do this every day, but I gotta do it at the same, tiny school in Oğuz rayon, Azerbaijan.
That’s not a bad thing. Everyone’s got their responsibilities, their places in the world.
But we can flip to the other side and say that change ain’t bad either, right? I mean, c’mon. We’re Americans. We run on change. And by change I don’t necessarily mean dropping everything and seeking something radically different. It can simply mean a different look, flashing your eyes in another direction.
Charlie and I had a teachers’ meeting a couple weeks ago. It was a small group of teachers, mostly from villages, and it was a productive meeting. While there, I met a lovely young woman named Humay. She teaches in a village called Kərimli, just up the road from Qumlaq.
This lady was very nice and motivated, so I offered to visit her school. She enthusiastically said yes, and I got up the following Tuesday and headed to the village.
It’s a bigger community than Qumlaq, with a bigger school. Upon arriving, some students showed me to the teachers’ room, and I sat quietly and waited for Humay to get there. When she arrived, we headed to a sixth form class (ages eleven and twelve), full of bright-eyed students, and we had a great lesson. The kids were pumped to have a newcomer at school, and they tried their best. After class, they swarmed me and asked all kinds of questions. Like me, they were getting a new perspective.
It’s also good to see folks like this in our line of work. As we go about the daily grind, we can fall into labeling ourselves and our counterparts as “unmotivated”. That’s a matter of personal opinion. But it revives the soul to be with folks who are genuinely motivated and want to do well. Humay doesn’t have to try. She can simply come to school, throw some lessons from the text at the kids, and head home. Humay does her best, though, and that says a lot about her. It kept me in check. It kept me on the ball when it’s easy to get off.
What am I talking about? Am I just talking about a nifty visit to another school? Well, yeah, I’m talking about that, but I also wanna encourage anyone to take a different look at things. If you’re a university student, visit a class at another school. If you’re a churchgoer, go to a different one on a Sunday. Go somewhere you’ve never been. Visit someone you barely know. Use new dental floss. Shop at a different grocery store. Whatever you want. Even if you step out, disapprove, and step back in, you weren’t really hurt in the process, right? Give it a shot. It might jar something loose in you.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Pat's Son
3 October 2009
Hmmm…I guess with yesterday being my Dad’s birthday, this entry has more relevance.
First off, I’m sorry to have taken such a long hiatus from my web log. If I had a good excuse, I’d give it, but I don’t, so I’ll just keep typing and hope you forgive me.
I think I might’ve touched on the importance of family around here. Not that it isn’t important where I’m from, but something happened the other day that made me smile. Let me break it down to you.
It’s become my custom to hitchhike back and forth from Qumlaq to town. That’s proven to be the easiest mode of transportation. Typically if I’m walking down the road, waving at each car that goes by, somebody picks me up pretty quickly. Sometimes I gotta pay them; sometimes I don’t. It just depends on the driver. You may question the safety of hitchhiking, but I can assure you it’s less dangerous than crossing the river on the way to town that, since the rains of last spring, became considerably more “raging”. Besides falling one time and getting my pants wet, I resorted a few times to crossing that damn river by means of a gas pipe. It scared the heck out of me, so much that I decided to figure something else out. Hitchhiking was the answer.
So, anyway, one day I caught a ride on the last leg to Qumlaq with a good friend of mine. We happily greeted each other, and I was curious to see unfamiliar faces in the car. Not that I know everybody in town, but I suspected a full car heading into the village during the end of Ramadan probably meant relatives were visiting from out of town. The man in the front seat next to my friend looked quite “grandpa-ish”, and he was wondering who I was. My friend tried to tell him I was John from the States, but that didn’t register. After trying to explain who I was, my friend finally asked me, “What’s your dad’s name?” I said, “Pat,” and he told the man, “Alright, this is John. He’s Pat’s son.” Eventually, grandpa got the picture…I think…maybe.
Anywho, that’s pretty nifty, eh? Being known by who your dad is. And that’s how it works around here. In a tightly knit community like this, where so much is passed down from parents to children, it’s no surprise people are known that way. You don’t easily escape your family, and with good reason. Most everyone in Qumlaq wakes up in the morning and works the same land their parents worked. There isn’t much moving around, if any. What many have is what’s been given to them, and when that’s the case, who your dad is matters.
And, of course, if you’re off doing your thing, whether you’re American or Azerbaijani, there’s probably something that reminds you of Mom and Dad, something that sticks with you. Yeah, my friend has called me “Pat’s son” since that day, and it works. It suits me fine.
Hmmm…I guess with yesterday being my Dad’s birthday, this entry has more relevance.
First off, I’m sorry to have taken such a long hiatus from my web log. If I had a good excuse, I’d give it, but I don’t, so I’ll just keep typing and hope you forgive me.
I think I might’ve touched on the importance of family around here. Not that it isn’t important where I’m from, but something happened the other day that made me smile. Let me break it down to you.
It’s become my custom to hitchhike back and forth from Qumlaq to town. That’s proven to be the easiest mode of transportation. Typically if I’m walking down the road, waving at each car that goes by, somebody picks me up pretty quickly. Sometimes I gotta pay them; sometimes I don’t. It just depends on the driver. You may question the safety of hitchhiking, but I can assure you it’s less dangerous than crossing the river on the way to town that, since the rains of last spring, became considerably more “raging”. Besides falling one time and getting my pants wet, I resorted a few times to crossing that damn river by means of a gas pipe. It scared the heck out of me, so much that I decided to figure something else out. Hitchhiking was the answer.
So, anyway, one day I caught a ride on the last leg to Qumlaq with a good friend of mine. We happily greeted each other, and I was curious to see unfamiliar faces in the car. Not that I know everybody in town, but I suspected a full car heading into the village during the end of Ramadan probably meant relatives were visiting from out of town. The man in the front seat next to my friend looked quite “grandpa-ish”, and he was wondering who I was. My friend tried to tell him I was John from the States, but that didn’t register. After trying to explain who I was, my friend finally asked me, “What’s your dad’s name?” I said, “Pat,” and he told the man, “Alright, this is John. He’s Pat’s son.” Eventually, grandpa got the picture…I think…maybe.
Anywho, that’s pretty nifty, eh? Being known by who your dad is. And that’s how it works around here. In a tightly knit community like this, where so much is passed down from parents to children, it’s no surprise people are known that way. You don’t easily escape your family, and with good reason. Most everyone in Qumlaq wakes up in the morning and works the same land their parents worked. There isn’t much moving around, if any. What many have is what’s been given to them, and when that’s the case, who your dad is matters.
And, of course, if you’re off doing your thing, whether you’re American or Azerbaijani, there’s probably something that reminds you of Mom and Dad, something that sticks with you. Yeah, my friend has called me “Pat’s son” since that day, and it works. It suits me fine.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Azerbaijani Boys Leadership Experience
Hello everybody. I'd like to take a minute and share another project with you all with which I'm involved. It's called Azerbaijani Boys Leadership Experience (or A.B.L.E.) camp. It's an amazing project that has touched the lives of many young men all over the country. Volunteers serving in the rayons choose promising boys to participate in this six day camp, where they learn about leadership, democracy, and how to make a difference in their communities. Of course, the campers and counselors also have a lot of fun. And the camp's effectiveness shows in the boys that participate. Some say it's the greatest experience they've had in their entire lives.
Now I'm going to give y'all a couple links. The first one is to an entry in my friend Jeff's web log: http://northwestjeff.wordpress.com/2009/06/29/support-able-camp-2009/
Jeff is leading A.B.L.E. camp this year, and this entry will give more information about the project and how you can help.
And here's a link to our Peace Corps Partnership Program grant page: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=314-055. It will also give some more background information about A.B.L.E. camp, and if you'd like to donate, you may do so on the page.
Thank you for reading about this great project. Any donations would, of course, be much appreciated.
Now I'm going to give y'all a couple links. The first one is to an entry in my friend Jeff's web log: http://northwestjeff.wordpress.com/2009/06/29/support-able-camp-2009/
Jeff is leading A.B.L.E. camp this year, and this entry will give more information about the project and how you can help.
And here's a link to our Peace Corps Partnership Program grant page: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=314-055. It will also give some more background information about A.B.L.E. camp, and if you'd like to donate, you may do so on the page.
Thank you for reading about this great project. Any donations would, of course, be much appreciated.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Azerbaijan Softball
Hey, y'all. I'm going to take a minute here to tell y'all about an ongoing project in Azerbaijan. For years, volunteers have been organizing softball teams all over the country, giving them an opportunity to teach Azerbaijanis about the game and have some fun.
This year, they're working hard to gather the necessary funds to keep the project going. They would love a donation from anyone willing to give five dollars or more. You can visit this website for more information about the project and how to donate: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=314-052
I, for one, am a big fan of this project and hope it can achieve the same success it's experienced in past years. If you're interested, please take a look at the link, and any donations would bbe greatly appreciated. Thanks!
This year, they're working hard to gather the necessary funds to keep the project going. They would love a donation from anyone willing to give five dollars or more. You can visit this website for more information about the project and how to donate: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=314-052
I, for one, am a big fan of this project and hope it can achieve the same success it's experienced in past years. If you're interested, please take a look at the link, and any donations would bbe greatly appreciated. Thanks!
Monday, June 1, 2009
A Curious Little Kid
29 May 2009
Today, I’m going to touch up on a couple topics I’ve mentioned before. I’m going to kind of combine the two, and we’ll see how it works out.
I’ve written to you all about my little host brother, Rustəm, a really good kid. I’ve talked about his creativity and letter writing, and I’ve also said a thing or two about the simplicity of village living.
Well, this village, where generations of Mahmudovs (my host family’s last name) have lived, is the perfect place for a kid like Rustəm. I thought to write about this after hearing him carelessly sing to himself in the hallway and playing badminton with him after lunch. He enjoys my company as a playmate, but he beautifully goes off into his own world as well, and what a setting for such behavior.
I’m pleased as punch to see him nearly every day, wandering about the trees and rivers, running around aimlessly, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. He loves when I ask what he’s up to, so he can show me. An example is when he rigged something up with rocks that would hold a vine back so he could swing farther on it. Like I said, he’s very creative, and all he needs is what’s laid out for him around Qumlaq.
Sure, this is a small village, smaller than any community I’ve lived in, but its simplicity is satisfying. I wrote before about how people just walk around town, and when I ask them what they’re up to, they say, “Nothing.” I wouldn’t say “nothing” implies “We’re being worthless,” though. Rustəm may say “nothing” when I ask what he’s doing, but, in reality, he’s enjoying his childhood, emulating, according to my Azerbaijani teacher, Sevil Müəllimi, how his father, Firuz, acted as a child.
So there may not be a bunch of bells and whistles to entertain us around Qumlaq village, but I can say that people – in partucular, young people – are content with what they have. When I see folks cheerfully greeting their neightbors or Rustəm curiously wandering around, that comes to light, and it inspires me.
Today, I’m going to touch up on a couple topics I’ve mentioned before. I’m going to kind of combine the two, and we’ll see how it works out.
I’ve written to you all about my little host brother, Rustəm, a really good kid. I’ve talked about his creativity and letter writing, and I’ve also said a thing or two about the simplicity of village living.
Well, this village, where generations of Mahmudovs (my host family’s last name) have lived, is the perfect place for a kid like Rustəm. I thought to write about this after hearing him carelessly sing to himself in the hallway and playing badminton with him after lunch. He enjoys my company as a playmate, but he beautifully goes off into his own world as well, and what a setting for such behavior.
I’m pleased as punch to see him nearly every day, wandering about the trees and rivers, running around aimlessly, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. He loves when I ask what he’s up to, so he can show me. An example is when he rigged something up with rocks that would hold a vine back so he could swing farther on it. Like I said, he’s very creative, and all he needs is what’s laid out for him around Qumlaq.
Sure, this is a small village, smaller than any community I’ve lived in, but its simplicity is satisfying. I wrote before about how people just walk around town, and when I ask them what they’re up to, they say, “Nothing.” I wouldn’t say “nothing” implies “We’re being worthless,” though. Rustəm may say “nothing” when I ask what he’s doing, but, in reality, he’s enjoying his childhood, emulating, according to my Azerbaijani teacher, Sevil Müəllimi, how his father, Firuz, acted as a child.
So there may not be a bunch of bells and whistles to entertain us around Qumlaq village, but I can say that people – in partucular, young people – are content with what they have. When I see folks cheerfully greeting their neightbors or Rustəm curiously wandering around, that comes to light, and it inspires me.
28 May
27 May 2009
It’s interesting to look at the next couple days’ progression of events. As all teachers and English education Peace Corps volunteers in Azerbaijan know, this is the last week of school. After Friday, the summer and, basically, whatever we feel like doing ‘till September, will be ahead of us, which is a nice thought, unless you’re like Charlie and me and are afraid you might get a little bored. We’ll see how it goes. Anyway, I’m kinna getting off the topic (already).
With that said, Thursday is a holiday. Wow, what a convenient time for one. What’s it celebrating anyway, that we’d be off from work and school on the day before the last day of school?
Well, it’s celebrating the day Azerbaijan became an independent republic in 1918. Now, hold on. Isn’t there a lot of other stuff that happened between then and now? Yeah, plenty happened, but let’s take a look at Azerbaijani history around this time.
We’ll start over a hundred years before 1918. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Azerbaijan was ruled by several independent Persian khanates, or small regions under the control of a khan, or ruler. In fact, the diverse culture of Azerbaijan’s present rayons can be attributed to this era, as several of these khanates corresponded with present day rayons, such as: Shirvan, Ganja, Quba, and Shaki.
At the turn of the nineteenth century, Russia became a big threat in the region. By this time, the area of present day Azerbaijan had been conquered by Agha Muhammed Khan Qajar. This khanate declared war on Russia but was eventually defeated, and, in 1813, Russia controlled the territory. The Persian Qajars submitted to a final settlement, the Treaty of Turkmenchay, in 1828, which established the present day Azerbaijan-Iran border.
During this period of Russian rule (not to be confused with the Soviet era, which came along a century later), petroleum was discovered and exploited, and Azerbaijan experienced great prosperity (for the rich, at least) and growth. This was extremely important, not just in terms Azerbaijan’s economy, but also its society.
But why? The great disparity between rich and poor as a result of this exploitative economy brought on the emergence of an Azeri nationalist intelligencia that sparked quite a discourse in the region. It took a stand against poverty, ignorance, and extremism, and called for reforms in education and the rights of dispossessed classes, including women. These may have been unprecedented values, as present day Azerbaijan, throughout its history, had been ruled largely by oppressive outside forces.
These values clearly stuck as Russia lost its grasp on the area as a result of its involvement in World War I and the Russian Revolution of 1917. And on May 28th, 1918, Azerbaijan became an independent democratic republic. It was the first democratic republic in the Islamic world.
Of course, this was short lived, as Azerbaijan became a Soviet republic in 1920. Nonetheless, May 28th deserves great recognition. It doesn’t merely celebrate the brief Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan established in 1918, but the triumph of freethinking. While being passed from one ruling power to another, a movement emerged that recognized the solidarity of the Azerbaijani people. When I look at Azerbaijanis today, I see very nationalistic people, people that are proud of their heritage, and that may have a lot to do with this independent thinking that prevailed in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, giving great relevance to May 28th 1918, when Azerbaijan first became it’s own republic.
It’s interesting to look at the next couple days’ progression of events. As all teachers and English education Peace Corps volunteers in Azerbaijan know, this is the last week of school. After Friday, the summer and, basically, whatever we feel like doing ‘till September, will be ahead of us, which is a nice thought, unless you’re like Charlie and me and are afraid you might get a little bored. We’ll see how it goes. Anyway, I’m kinna getting off the topic (already).
With that said, Thursday is a holiday. Wow, what a convenient time for one. What’s it celebrating anyway, that we’d be off from work and school on the day before the last day of school?
Well, it’s celebrating the day Azerbaijan became an independent republic in 1918. Now, hold on. Isn’t there a lot of other stuff that happened between then and now? Yeah, plenty happened, but let’s take a look at Azerbaijani history around this time.
We’ll start over a hundred years before 1918. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Azerbaijan was ruled by several independent Persian khanates, or small regions under the control of a khan, or ruler. In fact, the diverse culture of Azerbaijan’s present rayons can be attributed to this era, as several of these khanates corresponded with present day rayons, such as: Shirvan, Ganja, Quba, and Shaki.
At the turn of the nineteenth century, Russia became a big threat in the region. By this time, the area of present day Azerbaijan had been conquered by Agha Muhammed Khan Qajar. This khanate declared war on Russia but was eventually defeated, and, in 1813, Russia controlled the territory. The Persian Qajars submitted to a final settlement, the Treaty of Turkmenchay, in 1828, which established the present day Azerbaijan-Iran border.
During this period of Russian rule (not to be confused with the Soviet era, which came along a century later), petroleum was discovered and exploited, and Azerbaijan experienced great prosperity (for the rich, at least) and growth. This was extremely important, not just in terms Azerbaijan’s economy, but also its society.
But why? The great disparity between rich and poor as a result of this exploitative economy brought on the emergence of an Azeri nationalist intelligencia that sparked quite a discourse in the region. It took a stand against poverty, ignorance, and extremism, and called for reforms in education and the rights of dispossessed classes, including women. These may have been unprecedented values, as present day Azerbaijan, throughout its history, had been ruled largely by oppressive outside forces.
These values clearly stuck as Russia lost its grasp on the area as a result of its involvement in World War I and the Russian Revolution of 1917. And on May 28th, 1918, Azerbaijan became an independent democratic republic. It was the first democratic republic in the Islamic world.
Of course, this was short lived, as Azerbaijan became a Soviet republic in 1920. Nonetheless, May 28th deserves great recognition. It doesn’t merely celebrate the brief Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan established in 1918, but the triumph of freethinking. While being passed from one ruling power to another, a movement emerged that recognized the solidarity of the Azerbaijani people. When I look at Azerbaijanis today, I see very nationalistic people, people that are proud of their heritage, and that may have a lot to do with this independent thinking that prevailed in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, giving great relevance to May 28th 1918, when Azerbaijan first became it’s own republic.
Go. Come. Sit. Stand. Eat. Drink.
26 May 2009
I admit that’s kind of a weird title for an entry, but it’ll hopefully make more sense in a moment.
I’m fascinated by the Azerbaijani language. It’s different than any language I’ve ever heard, and with good reason. It’s part of a family of languages with which I wasn’t the least bit familiar until coming to Azerbaijan. It’s interesting what goes through your head before coming to another country whose language you don’t know. I can remember running around the neighborhood in Driftwood, Texas the weeks before coming to Azerbaijan, thinking, “Yep, I’m going there for two years. I’m going to learn the language, although I have no idea what it sounds like.” Then, I remember learning my first Azerbaijani sentence: “Mənim adım Condur (My name is John (Remember that “Con” is pronounced like “John” in Azerbaijani.).)”. Wait. Where’s the verb? What’s with the upside down ‘e’? What’s with this crazy language?
Well, like other volunteers, I got the hang of it. I can pronounce the words okay and tag the verbs onto the ends of the sentences. As you start to get it better and better, you notice certain trends in how people talk. The command form of the verb is used a lot. Let me give you some examples:
Example 1:
John: Hey, first host mom, I’m going running.
First Host Mom: Run!
Example 2:
First Host Mom: Eat!
Example 3:
First Host Mom: Drink!
Example 4:
Random Group of Dudes at the Çayxana: Come. Drink tea!
Example 5:
Second Host Mom: Come. Eat bread!
Example 6:
Second Host Dad: Come. Eat Bread. Afterwards, sit. Write.
Do you get the picture? This is how folks talk a lot of the time. It’s funny when you think about it, kind of a style of talking that’s, in a sense, encouragement through bossiness. I mean, it sounds bossy, but it’s really just their way of getting the message across in a short-and-sweet fashion. When you tell the passerby, “Come. Drink tea!” that doesn’t mean he has to sit down and have a glass with you. That’s just your way of inviting him. When my host mom would tell me, “Run!” it was to send me on my way. She could’ve cared less if I run. The same goes for lots of scenarios.
Languages are funny, and the more you learn about a foreign language, the more you understand the people’s difficulties with English. For example, an Azerbaijani may tell you, in English, “Give me book,” which sounds rude to us, but, well, that’s what they would say in their own language. Similar trends occur in other languages, as well. I tell ya. It’s interesting stuff.
I admit that’s kind of a weird title for an entry, but it’ll hopefully make more sense in a moment.
I’m fascinated by the Azerbaijani language. It’s different than any language I’ve ever heard, and with good reason. It’s part of a family of languages with which I wasn’t the least bit familiar until coming to Azerbaijan. It’s interesting what goes through your head before coming to another country whose language you don’t know. I can remember running around the neighborhood in Driftwood, Texas the weeks before coming to Azerbaijan, thinking, “Yep, I’m going there for two years. I’m going to learn the language, although I have no idea what it sounds like.” Then, I remember learning my first Azerbaijani sentence: “Mənim adım Condur (My name is John (Remember that “Con” is pronounced like “John” in Azerbaijani.).)”. Wait. Where’s the verb? What’s with the upside down ‘e’? What’s with this crazy language?
Well, like other volunteers, I got the hang of it. I can pronounce the words okay and tag the verbs onto the ends of the sentences. As you start to get it better and better, you notice certain trends in how people talk. The command form of the verb is used a lot. Let me give you some examples:
Example 1:
John: Hey, first host mom, I’m going running.
First Host Mom: Run!
Example 2:
First Host Mom: Eat!
Example 3:
First Host Mom: Drink!
Example 4:
Random Group of Dudes at the Çayxana: Come. Drink tea!
Example 5:
Second Host Mom: Come. Eat bread!
Example 6:
Second Host Dad: Come. Eat Bread. Afterwards, sit. Write.
Do you get the picture? This is how folks talk a lot of the time. It’s funny when you think about it, kind of a style of talking that’s, in a sense, encouragement through bossiness. I mean, it sounds bossy, but it’s really just their way of getting the message across in a short-and-sweet fashion. When you tell the passerby, “Come. Drink tea!” that doesn’t mean he has to sit down and have a glass with you. That’s just your way of inviting him. When my host mom would tell me, “Run!” it was to send me on my way. She could’ve cared less if I run. The same goes for lots of scenarios.
Languages are funny, and the more you learn about a foreign language, the more you understand the people’s difficulties with English. For example, an Azerbaijani may tell you, in English, “Give me book,” which sounds rude to us, but, well, that’s what they would say in their own language. Similar trends occur in other languages, as well. I tell ya. It’s interesting stuff.
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