Business English

The computer room in the English Department of the Institute has not been functioning for some time.  Long before I came, students downloaded things onto these computers, infecting them with viruses.  Fortunately, I have made a connection with someone from the Poly-Technical Institute near-by.  With his help, I believe we have been able to erase the virus-infected computers, re-install and update this time with anti-virus software.  According to our training from PC, it is most important to IRP—identify the right people—and I think I did!  It is also good to have made this connection, since I believe with some years of experience in business as well as education, I will be able to offer some group classes to help technical students and business people hone skills to make them more successful in business dealings with the West.  A command of business English for example  is essential to be competitive.  Azerbaijan is a young country, having won its independence from the Soviet Union in the early 1990’s.  Prior to that, English instruction in schools was very uncommon, and instruction in Western business practices and methods was unheard of.  The younger generation seeks to learn now that which an older generation cannot from their own experiences pass on to them.  Indeed, even the Azerbaijani alphabet, which is now in use, has only been taught the past few decades.  This means that many parents and the grandparents of today’s children learned to read and write with a totally different (Cyrillic) alphabet.  And having been for so long a part of the Soviet Union, a communist country, learning English and independent business practices are not nearly as firmly established as in the West.  Where most European students become quite fluent in conversing in English, Azerbaijani students (and their teachers) do not have the luxury of traveling to English speaking countries to practice their skills.  Azerbaijan’s exposure to the West may have been limited in the past, but a change is about to become quite dramatic.  Baku will be the site of next year’s Eurovision Song Contest, one of the most popular and widely followed shows, and which was already quite a phenomena when Bill and I lived in Munich.  The little country celebrated winning last year’s competition in the streets of Baku, as though it had just won the World Cup.  The pride this has engendered will surely carry forth in the coming months, as Baku prepares, as the winning country, to now host the rest Europe for the 2012 Eurovision Song Contest.  But as excited as Baku is about the influx of Westerners, and the potential prospects this might mean to the Baku economy, regions outside of the capital have much to offer to, if only the right tools are available—good business English skills being one of them—to draw attention to what they can offer.  Hence, making a connection with the Poly-Technical Institute here and its students will hopefully be significant, if even in a small way, to contribute towards broadening the learning experiences of its students in ways that can help the economy of the country as a whole.

I have written before about the cultural differences and hopefully in a way that shows respect and understanding for those differences, as we, too, would like to be perceived in a positive light.  But some things are just too funny:

 

A store banner advertising a new detergent might have a tough time selling this product, and its good cleaning qualities, at home with a brand name like—“Barf!”  But at least they are not foolish enough to try to sell it in America, unlike an American company some years ago, whose marketing department made the faux pas of trying to sell its product in Japan, but had not bothered to research the fact that its brand name was a nasty word in Japanese.

In the photo I am wearing the typical professional teacher’s outfit—dark skirt, black tights—but I realize now, I could go for a fancier coat.  So I think I may bring this one home in July, when I come for Robby’s wedding, and swap it out for the beige leather coat I have, which is also much warmer.  Looking at those tights reminds me of another funny faux pas that I barely escaped.  I am so not used to wearing a skirt, let alone tights, and with the cold classrooms, I would be more comfortable in slacks—but a skirt it must be.  So one day last week, I decided to wear a pair of leggings/long underwear underneath the tights.  By the time I put on some more long-underwear, a sweater, a vest, and a scarf, I felt pretty well-dressed, left my room for the breakfast table, leaving my skirt behind on the bed!  To me it felt like I had so many clothes on, I didn’t notice.  Fortunately, before I left the house for the university, I spotted my skirt next to my book-bag.  Good thing!

Ever try consuming soup with a fork?  Soup in the winter-time is a staple meal, and delicious, too—broth with herbs, especially cilantro, chicken, onions, and potatoes, and more broth—but no spoon.  Why?  The potato and chicken are eaten with the fork, and the broth sopped up with copious amounts of white bread.  Since the mom in my host family makes her own wonderful bread, it’s actually easy, and tasty, to have a bowl of soup with a fork, but I must admit the first time I thought there had been a mistake—forks instead of spoons.  Tea (chai) is the drink of choice everywhere here, and always served to guests.  But if it is too hot…well, it is common to pour some from the cup (or glass, as it is often served—sometimes in special pear-shaped glasses to allow for the tea to stay hot at the bottom) into the saucer and then just slurp it out of the saucer.  In fact slurping and smacking of lips is common, too—it shows that one thinks the meal is tasty.  Tea is often drunk with a sugar cube in the mouth to suck on while drinking the tea.  This might result in dental problems though, since a lot of adults are missing a few teeth or have sometimes quite a mouthful of shiny gold teeth.  Love the glistening smiles.

I have been working long hours and come home tired.  The mom in my host family tells me that when I am gone all afternoon, she and the children miss me—especially 7 year old Ibrahim.  How sweet.  They make me feel so welcome, and I really enjoy these family connections.  Ibrahim has become my teacher of sorts.  I am rapidly losing some of my language skills, since I speak English now all day in my job.  So in the evenings I review my Azerbaijani language book by reading to him.  He’s a good help, and I think he feels quite proud to be able to help me with my reading and my pronunciation.  I call him my teacher and he smiles broadly.

The Same, and yet Different....

The Same, and yet Different…

In some ways it seems like Christmas is around the corner—and in many ways, not.  In this predominately Muslim country, Christmas is not celebrated, but in the local bazaar you might think otherwise.  Plastic ‘Christmas Trees’ are for sale, tree decorations and lights, as wells as Santa costumes—albeit a bit scrawnier than the American counterparts.  Even before Azerbaijan was one of the republics of the Soviet Union, this region of the world was always under great influence from Russia.  Hence, many winter-time customs are partially borrowed from Russian Christmas customs.  My host family has a lovely little tree in the corner of the living room that the children decorated with typical Christmas ornaments last Sunday—plastic stars, santas, bells, gingerbread houses, globes, and tree lights—but as they explained to me, it is their ‘New Year’s Tree.’  The ‘santa’ here is referred to here as Şaxta Baba (Shakhta or Schachta Baba) and he is accompanied by Qar Qız or ‘snow girl.’  On New Year’s they arrive from the North Pole to bring presents to children, which are placed beneath the tree.  Students in school know the songs of jingle bells and other Christmas songs, but the holiday which they are actually celebrating is New Year’s, as they do not celebrate anything on the 24^th or 25^th, just the 31^st of Dec. and 1^st of January.  At the university I have been asked to help the students organize a presentation of New Year’s customs—songs, skits, etc.—for the English Department holiday celebration on the 22^nd, just before the end of term.  I’m racking my brain a bit, since I’m thinking of all kinds of Christmas presentations, but not so many New Year’s customs—unless, of course, we all play Yatzee, Apples to Apples, and Catch Phrase, which is our family’s way of celebrating New Years, which I certainly will be missing this year; and if anyone scores a Yatzee—well, are you going to give me a call to brag about it, as that is also a family tradition??!! ---- However, thanks to Christina, I might have hit upon a good idea for the school celebration—we’ll see!

The electricity went out today in the university, we lost lights, printer usage and—internet!  Guess it was wishful thinking that it might be different here than in Masazir.  My host family mother from Masazir called me today; that was the first thing I told her—even here in Mingechavir, we lose the electricity, too!  Oh, well, I resorted to the old-fashioned way of researching materials—I used the books in the small shelf-library in my room.  We hope to write a grant to expand and make it a fully useful resource room, complete with many varying media and materials.

Mingəçevir is a very pleasant town.  The main street, as in almost all Azerbaijani towns, is of course called Heydər Əliyev prospekti and the main park is the Heydər Əliyev Parkı. (Heydər Əliyev—Heder Aliyev--died on Dec. 12th 2003 and is revered as the founding father of the country—the George Washington of Azerbaijan).  On the 12th, in commemoration of his day of death, there was a large ceremony in the middle of town; I accompanied masses of students and others to the large statue of him in his park, where we all in solemn fashion placed red carnations below his statue.  The town is laid out with very broad boulevards, wide streets and very large traffic circles encircling big fountains—like Paris, Rome, and other European cities, albeit here with relatively little vehicular traffic—very pleasant, since pedestrians can cross safely in any direction, there is so little traffic!  The sidewalks are wide and parallel the streets with several paths and park-like strips of green, park benches, and trees between the sidewalk paths.  There are even paths for cars to park on or bicylces to ride, though few people ride them, unlike in Europe.  The housing consists mainly of large apartment blocks which often face each other with strips of open space between them for play areas or other activities, not unlike the housing area in which Bill and I lived in Perlacher Forst in Munich in the ‘60’s and the ‘70’s.  Much of the town was after all German-built--built by the Soviets and German POW’s after WWII.  The town is laid out in a fashion that reminds me of many neighborhoods of German towns—particularly from some decades ago.  Walking the streets and admiring the design of the town, and its near-by hydro-electric plant (also built in part by German POW’s after the War), I cannot help but think of my classmate Roswitha from Johanna-Sebus-Schule in the early ‘60’s.  Her father was one of those German POW’s who was not allowed by the Soviets to return after the war, and indeed, the last the family heard of him, he was being forced to work on rebuilding projects in the republics of the Soviet Union. He never returned home, and by the early ‘60’s the family assumed he had died in captivity, but they never received any official word to confirm that.   I have sometimes a very strange and ironic feeling, that perhaps my classmate’s father was one of those who built this town in which I now live.

Somethings have not changed since the apartment blocks were built in the late 40’s.  Often the stairwells are not lit, because they were never wired for electric lights, concrete walls and steps are crumbling, and many of the side-walks are uneven with pot-holes, tree trunks, even pipes and rebar, poking through.  Some apartments have been modernized since they were first built, and others obviously not, with toilets that are flushed with a water bucket, hot water that is available only when one lights the gas heater and waits about an hour for the water tank above the tub to heat up.  But the lay-out of the town and many of its public places are charming and attractive.  And it is a very clean town—with small German-style garbage baskets dotting the public walk-ways down the boulevard park-strips. Indeed, as a town, it prides itself in being the cleanest and most pleasant town in Azerbaijan.  Every morning there are the sweeping ladies out with their twig-brooms, sweeping up leaves and any other debris.  The town is very well kept.  Near the university are several bazars and in the morning hours it is interesting to see the cars piled with their fresh fruits and vegatables to sell, sometimes right out of the trunks and back-seats of their cars; everything sold is in season somewhere in this country with nine climate zones, but particularly common now are the cabbages, which are the largest I have ever seen—larger than a basketball.  This is a very friendly and hospitable town.

The first day at the university, I met the director of the institute, who gave a me brochure advertising the university, complete with reference to the American Peace Corps supplied computer room, which was funded by a grant written by a former volunteer.  And the dean of the department of languages graciously welcomed me, too—in German—since that is the language he teaches.  I felt right at home!!  The students and teachers are very friendly, warm, and embrasing.  I feel welcomed and happy to be here.

Mary Branom, Peace Corps Volunteer

Azerbaycan Müəllimlər İnstitutunun

Another adventure:  after rising early, and saying fond farewells to my Masazir family, Christine and Rachel—my new sitemates--and I piled into the not-all-that-large taxi, filled to the gills (and more strapped on the roof) with all our stuff—clothes and supplies for the next two years, plus the now obligatory stacks of books and manuals, water-filters, mosquito nets (parts of Azerbaijan are in malaria areas), Brown Monsters (Peace Corps-issued sleeping bags)—and we headed off to Mingeçəvir, our permanent service site. It was a trick for the driver and my host father to re-arrange all the luggage, etc. in the trunk and on the roof of the car in the dark—thank goodness my family was able to supply some twine to get some of the bags strapped onto the car.  On the way, we soon hit solid fog along the desolate stretch of plains which makes up part of central Azerbaijan—reminded me of central California in the winter months.  This did not stop the drivers, though, from pulling out to pass the ubiquitous slow-moving trucks and farm vehicles.  The fog was freezing and chunks of ice froze to my duffel bag and sleeping bag, which were strapped onto the roof.  Fortunately our driver did not take too many chances passing in the fog like so many of the other drivers were doing, which might have resulted in hitting the on-coming traffic head-on; instead our driver passed on the right, on the dirt and gravel shoulder.  This still brought many close calls, like almost hitting some people waiting in the fog by the side of the road for a marshrutka, or almost sliding into the ditch when the shoulder abruptly ended, because in the fog it was not easy to judge.  These were just a few excitements—the big one came when the taxi broke down in the town of Ucar!  The driver pulled into the rest-stop auto-repair shop near the bus station.  While we waited in the bus station, the car was worked on and eventually fixed.  An hour later, we were back on the road, but the driver missed the first entrance into Mingeçəvir.  No worries, he stopped to ask three different people, admitted he’d never been to Ming before, but he finally found the right way to Rachel and Christine’s waiting host families, where their bags and belongings were transferred into their respective waiting cars.  A little later, we were in the center of town by the bazaar, where we picked up Karim, who escorted us to my new host family, a couple in their thirties with two children, Farida, a studious little nine-year-old girl, and Ibrahim, a charming 7-year-old boy.  They have a very large, beautiful home, with a large garden full of many fruit trees (and chickens); the lower level has the living room and what could be a small apartment—a large bedroom, a small kitchen (but the gas is not hooked up) and a multipurpose room.  The large bedroom is mine; it has two beds and a couch, but no dresser or closet, so I decided to use one of the beds as a ward-robe of sorts, and now my clothes are spread out over it.  Tomorrow I will see about getting a table to hold all my books and other things.  The home is very comfortable, AND it has central heating—my room is warm and cozy.  The family is darling and very hospitable—it’s going to be great here!

Still basking over the thrill of the official Swearing-In Ceremony, which took place Thursday at the Europa Hotel in Baku.  What an elegant event, with comments by the U.S. Ambassador, government officials from the Ministries of Education, Business, and Youth and Sport, and a wonderful speech in both English and Azerbaijani by my friend Leah, one of the 5 others from my language class. Finally we all rose, raised our right hands, and with the Ambassador leading us we swore to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States, and protect it from all enemies, both foreign and domestic.  The last time I took the same oath (decades ago), I was embarking on my teaching career at Munich American High School, but this time it was so emotionally moving for me, that I could have teared up.  What a proud moment to have come so far after many months of applying for, planning for, training for, and now, more than a year later, finally becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer—what an honor! 

Monday I start at the University.  Some students already called and messaged me several weeks ago, welcoming me and letting me know how happy they are that I am coming.  It’s a good feeling to be so welcomed, knowing that one’s efforts are so greatly appreciated.  It makes everything that it took to get this far seem so worth-while.  I know what it is like to work long and hard and have the efforts unappreciated, even rejected, despised and betrayed, so this endeavor is for me personally just that much more rewarding.  But like the Kiwanis principals of giving primacy to spiritual and human values above material values, so it is that the best part of this undertaking is that it is greater than anything I could personally accomplish—being in the Peace Corps contributes to the betterment of so many things, to help others in a technical manner, to build bridges of understanding between the citizens of our nation and other nations, to contribute truly as the name implies—to peace.  Hopefully, inshallah—God willing, I will do this noble cause some justice. 

As a final farewell, my home in Masazir once again lost its electricity and heat during the last couple of days I was there, as well as water, too—again, no shower.  My Masazir host family sure knows how to roll with the punches, though, and kiddingly told me that only in Masazir would I have these ‘troubles’:  since one of the largest hydro-electric dams in this part of the world is in Ming, I should need not worry about running out of either water or electricity, they told me.  Actually, much can be learned about the important, and not-so-important, things in life from my Masazir host family.  Naturally it is unpleasant for them, too, when these conveniences, which we in America take so much for granted, are lost; but my Masazir host family has a method for coping with each of them—they are ready with the candles and kerosene lamps, so we can keep on studying; there’s the wood for the little stove for some warmth; there are neighbors, from whom you can borrow a bucket of water; there’s always food that can be eaten without cooking; and there are games to be played and songs to be sung and traditional dances to be practiced in the little hall-way, while waiting for these amenities to return.  Some of my favorite memories now are how I learned to do without, and came to admire and have fun with the family for whom this is just another minor fact of life.  People who are resilient like this are models for resourcefulness, skill, practicality, and most of all for being examples of how families stick together, help each other, for the betterment of all.  For a farewell meal, the mom in my host family asked to borrow my hand-held can-opener, which is part of the supplies Peace Corps recommends you bring from America; this reminded me, that absolutely everything we eat here is fresh; not a single canned or packaged food is in her house.  The only canned things we eat are the canned fruits, vegetables, and pickles, which she herself preserves.  Even her noodles are always home-made.  No foods loaded with preservatives here!  If you don’t grow it yourself, or buy it in the bazaar (market) fresh from the farmer, it just doesn’t show up on the average Azerbaijani table.  Even the chickens, like our Thanksgiving turkey, are often bought live, then slaughtered, plucked and cooked—can’t get much fresher!

Homework By Candle-light

Even with power outages, loss of gas, water, electricity--the show must go on!  And it does!  Or in this case, at least, the homework doesn't stop!  Learning to be super resourceful is one of the advantages of being in the Peace Corps!  I'm learning a lot.

Laundry Day...with and without electricity

Laundry Day…with and without electricity 

Moving soon to my permanent site and assignment; new address to follow.  For now, preparing for the swearing-in ceremony, an official celebration of the end of the jam-packed training sessions and the beginning of the new job, new responsibilities, new friends, new experiences,  Yay!

After all the snow, power outages, and cold weather, I thought I’d take advantage of a bright day to do some laundry.  Since clothes must be hung outdoors to dry, paying attention to the weather is necessary—and you do the laundry when you get a good chance, weather-wise, lest you run out of clothes to wear during bad weather/more power outages.

The mom in my host family is the proud owner of an electric agitator.  It sits in the corner of our bathroom, which is a multipurpose room, about 8’ by 10’ with plain concrete walls, a small window about 10’ above the floor.  The floor is the only part of the room that is tiled—in a pretty, bright orange.  In one corner sits the toilet, another corner the stainless-steel sink, attached to the concrete wall is a shower hose, and in the middle of the room in the tile floor is the floor drain, which functions as the drain for the shower and the clothes washing.  On one wall is an instant gas hot water heater, which is only turned on when clothes are going to be washed, or someone is going to take a shower.  It also only works when the electricity is on, because the water flow into the house is dependent upon an outside auxiliary electric pump.  The small agitator for washing clothes is also electric.  The process is to plug it into a wall socket outside of the bathroom door in the hallway of the house.  Then 3 buckets of hot water from the sink are filled and poured into the agitator together with some detergent and a fairly small amount of clothes.  Then the agitator is turned on, and it runs for 5 minutes.  Once it is stopped, you fish out the clothes by hand from the agitator, put them into a bucket, and take them to the sink to rinse by hand and wring dry.  When my host “mom” first showed me this process, she asked if I had an automatic washing machine in America. When I said, yes, I did, she sort of shrugged as if to say, “Well, this works, too,” and it does!

After the clothes are wrung out by hand, they are carried in the bucket to hang up on the clothes-lines outside in the garden.  Most Azerbaijanis, who have any yard space at all, have a garden in which they grow some of their own food.  We have a small garden with several small fruit trees, grape vines (for the leaves, used to make one of the national dishes—“dolma”—stuffed grape leaves), also different kinds of herbs, onions, tomatoes, and some other vegetables, which I don’t quite recognize.  There are some well-observed “rules” about how to hang up clothes, and I certainly showed what a fool I am for doing it all wrong.  First of all, all items hung up to dry have their proper place on the lines…towels go in one spot, shirts in another, pants still another, and so on.  I figured this out, after my host mom went outside and re-arranged everything I had hung up—and they must be pinned with the clothes-pins in a certain fashion as well.  But the most important thing to pay attention to is where women’s underclothing is hung—and how they are hung up to dry, too.  These items can only be hung over in the corner on lines that are behind and hidden by clothes hung on the larger lines.  This is so that any male (even male a family member) who might enter the garden will not immediately see them.  (This points out once again the importance of modesty which is exemplified in many facets of Azerbaijani life.)  There are even little hankies that are sometimes clothes-pinned over the underwear, to further disguise them from view.  All homes are behind brick/concrete block walls, so the only way anyone would see our laundry hanging up, would be if they were coming to visit and entered through the metal door leading into the garden behind the wall.  In the months I have been here, only neighbor women have come by to visit—no men.  So the only conceivable male who might possibly cast his eyes unintentionally upon this underwear hanging over in the corner, behind all the other clothes, would be the father of the family, consisting also of his wife and two daughters.  How to observe the proper way to hang up clothes is actually also covered in one of our manuals on culture, so it is important to take note of this, as I personally also experienced.

Masazir has been plagued with lots of power outages.  And when the electricity goes out, so does the heat in my home, which has several small electric space heaters.  When this happens—and it can last for several days at a time—about the only sensible thing to do is stay covered up inside the wonderful sleeping bag furnished to us by Peace Corps, and affectionately called the “Brown Monster.”  The power outages are so common that things just keep on running as usually though, too.  For example, school is still held, even if there is no electricity in the building.  The infrastructure in Masazir has not kept up with the influx of people.  Ten years ago Masazir didn’t really exist; it was just a bunch of empty fields.  Now there are a lot of homes here (this is not really a town or a village—it is considered a “settlement”).  Many of the homes are in the process of being built, which it seems most people do for themselves—they build them out of concrete blocks, and work on them as they have the time and the money.  So plenty of homes are in some stage of construction.  Masazir has one main road, several side roads, and plenty of mud roads/paths that lead to peoples’ homes.  There is no major bazaar or shopping place, just the main road, which is lined with small shops selling construction materials for building or remodeling; also some small supermarkets and butcher shops to serve the people who live here, many of whom work during the day in Baku.  There is a municipal-type office which issues the permits to build these homes, but it seems like the homes are built first, and any kind of infrastructure perhaps follows.  Hence, the roads flood all the time, the mud never gets a chance to drain and dry out, and it remains sloppy even after days of no rain.  Walking to school—indeed anywhere—is a mud-puddle challenge.  The power grid is often taxed too greatly, and without adequate construction inspection, homes are sometimes not properly wired.  Some people have generators, because of the frequent loss of electricity.  But I understand that this is primarily a problem of Masazir, because the rapid growth it has had—other towns and regions do not lose power quite so readily.  Only a few people on my road have cars, so maybe the muddy, flooded roads/dirt paths are not that big of any issue.  But everyone minds the loss of electricity:  in my family, moans and groans are expressed, when the lights and heat go out, and shouts of joy and applause, when the electricity comes back on.  I can’t help but think that Tim and his urban/environmental planning team from the county would have a field day here…and plenty of work cut out for them.