tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45684154387298107742023-11-16T18:52:43.143+05:00Dushanbe Days (Рузҳои Душанбе)Cooking & language mishaps, interesting run-ins, and travel in, around and outside of Dushanbe, Tajikistan.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-3775540462860857462014-06-04T11:33:00.001+05:002014-06-04T11:33:35.181+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 6: Moscow Part 2 -- A Place Where You Can Drunkenly Ride Horses at Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You should definitely read <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/05/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-5.html" target="_blank">this</a> first if you haven't, because it's part 1. And this is part 2. So logically you should read part 1 before part 2. So... read it?<br />
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<b>Are You Ready for More Churches? GOOD!</b><br />
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...because apparently that's what the Kremlin is? Maybe I'm the only idiot American who was confused and thought the Kremlin was some government building where there were those crazy guards and if you looked for long enough you might see Jason Bourne do some acrobatic stuff and sneak into the building. I really hope I'm not the only one, because it turns out the Kremlin has a government building but is actually more like a bunch of churches in a really small square together.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG39JN0Ba1nBBc24O2953AjKYijzj2W7awuOk_mLYwWcf44htMPrRgw7LdK8Z5GFxHs7pio4uxmviGFkTSUtblUg_CES-sHbasRm6ZopBgUAUG8dAUXU-rVLBTh1jYiTMyjVdwt-iMfEU/s1600/IMG_3807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG39JN0Ba1nBBc24O2953AjKYijzj2W7awuOk_mLYwWcf44htMPrRgw7LdK8Z5GFxHs7pio4uxmviGFkTSUtblUg_CES-sHbasRm6ZopBgUAUG8dAUXU-rVLBTh1jYiTMyjVdwt-iMfEU/s1600/IMG_3807.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"You shall not pass!"</i></td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>So you walk into the "Kremlin" which of course you need to buy a ticket for and you go through this cool big red gate and you're thinking <i>Oh man, oh man. Jason Bourne. Kremlin. Ahh. </i>And then you're greeted with this grey square building with some escalators and you're like <i>Okay. Where's the building that's the Kremlin? </i>And then you realize... that's it. This is "the building".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo5K0GjzUpvLl-xXMJPtds5Jo2EQ7WzFOJoYgoxcUBdY34vMYGrNYG6wTxrWI2sqPcrvEx6Lm5aXyXdZhikzD9H24vDDpZWA3hk9LBkWTznZT7EJA3aEGX739ltSHtPwXv0I8oXnp-lPU/s1600/IMG_3811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo5K0GjzUpvLl-xXMJPtds5Jo2EQ7WzFOJoYgoxcUBdY34vMYGrNYG6wTxrWI2sqPcrvEx6Lm5aXyXdZhikzD9H24vDDpZWA3hk9LBkWTznZT7EJA3aEGX739ltSHtPwXv0I8oXnp-lPU/s1600/IMG_3811.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turns out that this it the government building in the Kremlin. Not what you expected right?</td></tr>
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So you continue along into the "Kremlin" and you find some churches. And a lot of gold. Always a lot of gold. I don't remember any of the names of the churches, but each one served a particular purpose. I have information pamphlets from each of the churches so I could go through and match them up... but I'm not going to do that. Maybe if you're lucky I can show you the pamphlets and you can learn all about them!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE82XJ2leg0P6Q89g8gYV-p18VhNAgcYYUXmqg3hbzeYCVWrROFw54lLEkYLMJfwzS5sBbmPRet2kYumfth63w4_gyJvZjcrfyCOkEQfeVPN8QZkWces7PSEEBa48HELFuhfZBpdfF8yc/s1600/IMG_3819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE82XJ2leg0P6Q89g8gYV-p18VhNAgcYYUXmqg3hbzeYCVWrROFw54lLEkYLMJfwzS5sBbmPRet2kYumfth63w4_gyJvZjcrfyCOkEQfeVPN8QZkWces7PSEEBa48HELFuhfZBpdfF8yc/s1600/IMG_3819.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A church.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFsDLQKAnsNWlxrm2SJA-0YCHPfWcXrTq0jp089Hf3sTPLgjb6d5kWPZti1GTYpobR6z5KOuGRFOm4ZZIihaY2LVMVobGmpVVbn2lvxEmci87BfAhyphenhyphenQG637orSR8I1jUQLupb7amfFDs/s1600/IMG_3822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFsDLQKAnsNWlxrm2SJA-0YCHPfWcXrTq0jp089Hf3sTPLgjb6d5kWPZti1GTYpobR6z5KOuGRFOm4ZZIihaY2LVMVobGmpVVbn2lvxEmci87BfAhyphenhyphenQG637orSR8I1jUQLupb7amfFDs/s1600/IMG_3822.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More church.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQUGvSQpFYdCiJS8Xj2Fx3BNnCp1i-ADMwj_6oZu3AxJGmSimDi6N3hLO7KnmBiiLF1Pcm05Arc9AHROc5KlocJPjbrAsIGBiEeRZkObv96LI6Fl-xd53YN7DZpu6613sxNEBg8EwLrw/s1600/IMG_3824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQUGvSQpFYdCiJS8Xj2Fx3BNnCp1i-ADMwj_6oZu3AxJGmSimDi6N3hLO7KnmBiiLF1Pcm05Arc9AHROc5KlocJPjbrAsIGBiEeRZkObv96LI6Fl-xd53YN7DZpu6613sxNEBg8EwLrw/s1600/IMG_3824.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look a church!</td></tr>
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One of the churches was particularly cool because it housed all of the sarcophagus's of Russia's past Tsars. So that is actually kind of cool and historical. You can't take pictures of it though :(.<br />
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We went around and entered all of the churches, got some tour guides from some of the curators (kind of?) and then walked around the rest of the gardens. Really the area is quite nicely kept, with some beautiful parks and a whole lot of people. You can tell that this isn't just an international attraction, but it's also a national attraction for many Russians.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_m5X7PUlg68SFf8wA5v3cUNSUty-atwAMWsUG_-1RNYMj9rpzwYvlN7DL44VMaaMGNFFiNpuu3rmumBqX7xAwTJf6s52WlRJ7d2vZfUGinuQOY2ypvFWl-JMkZgkPiAaN9tz40-KFGcI/s1600/IMG_3833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_m5X7PUlg68SFf8wA5v3cUNSUty-atwAMWsUG_-1RNYMj9rpzwYvlN7DL44VMaaMGNFFiNpuu3rmumBqX7xAwTJf6s52WlRJ7d2vZfUGinuQOY2ypvFWl-JMkZgkPiAaN9tz40-KFGcI/s1600/IMG_3833.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ohh what a pretty <strike>church</strike> fountain!</td></tr>
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In the Kremlin is also a treasure vault. They call it the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diamond_Fund" target="_blank">diamond fund</a>. It's apparently really difficult to get tickets to the fund, but we lucked out and got tickets. So we got to tour around the diamond fund, though unfortunately they were really strict about pictures and there was *no* information in English. Thankfully, Dan's mom translated the entire guided tour for me.<br />
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In the vicinity we also saw a small protest of people wanting to return to the Soviet/communist system. Guess they wanted some of the diamonds.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0q5Skt4lmgAI2FMX81Ef2GqX-5UrGwFanmJCBFwOqQxGUX6HqDMJYTREvl9Cgyecn_Nd__KifpKQqB0TwU26vJOE8P9koJHWwXJhbXNmYHeqjkvJlUh5TDRjp0kaXYL8qnn1i1h_mhWY/s1600/IMG_3839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0q5Skt4lmgAI2FMX81Ef2GqX-5UrGwFanmJCBFwOqQxGUX6HqDMJYTREvl9Cgyecn_Nd__KifpKQqB0TwU26vJOE8P9koJHWwXJhbXNmYHeqjkvJlUh5TDRjp0kaXYL8qnn1i1h_mhWY/s1600/IMG_3839.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bring back the good 'ol days! I want my beat rations back!</td></tr>
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<b>The Moscow Party Scene</b><br />
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I almost think the picture speaks for itself, but that night Dan and I found ourselves going 'out on the town'. We went to a few different places, including what seemed to be a pretty happening local spot that had a habit of playing Celtic music with Russian lyrics. We eventually landed at this place quite literally in the middle of the city that reminded me a lot of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_X_(2012_film)" target="_blank">Project X</a>.<br />
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I mean, I saw some pretty ridiculous things. The best part about this bar, though, is that it's mostly outside like a house party. Just inside the door is some keg beer that costs only 60 rubles, but they don't have change so you have to pay exact or pay with 100 (which is probably the most common note) and lose the 40 rubles. Anyways, then you just go chill outside where there is music and tables and lots and lots and lots of drunk people. Doing things like... riding... horses...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oqieyafgDbCW4llQ-N8VmMgFsaNS_OhrnUk1kCxs4Dtqk0EAwkHd71TArxLcYwl8ChBzlN4DiHApYsRNsq7dCCQCT1etWcO3trZlb2buoMhNEutbEV4W_u3_76P_luKgpmI6uztLuiY/s1600/IMG_3836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oqieyafgDbCW4llQ-N8VmMgFsaNS_OhrnUk1kCxs4Dtqk0EAwkHd71TArxLcYwl8ChBzlN4DiHApYsRNsq7dCCQCT1etWcO3trZlb2buoMhNEutbEV4W_u3_76P_luKgpmI6uztLuiY/s1600/IMG_3836.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's exactly what you think. (A drunk girl riding a horse in the middle of Moscow).</td></tr>
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<b>Red Square</b><br />
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The Red Square is less red and more grey/stone-ish with some red buildings around it. I suppose it's really important, but unfortunately we couldn't get inside the square itself because it was closed. You might be surprised (or not) but there were also some churches there! Including <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Basil's_Cathedral" target="_blank">Saint Basil's Cathedral</a>, which is that building that we all think of when we think of Moscow!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TnqEWvadTEiYH_0rNsXgjt1-TrZ9LwRv7oL7_5RTDklj9hMHyEhbivSqNJ1P6Pb0WasqlGgF_LALJ1WkCHeFzOhxHmnvpCORa7XI_OeAAx1_R-BfV9GKTCuoijlwOAr3DF48cIyCIRw/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2TnqEWvadTEiYH_0rNsXgjt1-TrZ9LwRv7oL7_5RTDklj9hMHyEhbivSqNJ1P6Pb0WasqlGgF_LALJ1WkCHeFzOhxHmnvpCORa7XI_OeAAx1_R-BfV9GKTCuoijlwOAr3DF48cIyCIRw/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A church.</td></tr>
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It also has a mall inside of it. It's written "GUM" but pronounced "GOOM" and I found that really funny. But when I walked into this mall I found it really creepy because <i>the mall looked really familiar</i>. And for whatever reason, the familiarity I was feeling felt... creepy. Then it hit me.<br />
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The mall was totally featured in some horrible SciFi film where aliens attack and the main characters are in Moscow. The Darkest Hour. Take a look:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/aq8txgG3t4w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlkB4_Z4j8cBoUyFB3ygQRa7G2oCSQpQr44kMQPErW64L2KOuHiSBzmlj66weF4v8yNajOhmSlXSqiKcO8HiQuNvSSZVB75kx5tE-8lEIQHYEL18Hjn0ksG8QyJmMMXRfo9B5TfSk_QQ/s1600/IMG_3843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlkB4_Z4j8cBoUyFB3ygQRa7G2oCSQpQr44kMQPErW64L2KOuHiSBzmlj66weF4v8yNajOhmSlXSqiKcO8HiQuNvSSZVB75kx5tE-8lEIQHYEL18Hjn0ksG8QyJmMMXRfo9B5TfSk_QQ/s1600/IMG_3843.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The same mall</td></tr>
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I would have shopped, but Moscow is expensiveeee. I looked at some of the prices and didn't want to look anymore. After GUM we went to St. Basil's. It is really quite a cool looking church, and I liked it quite a lot. Apparently each of the spires/domes houses another church. What I was surpised at, however, is how small the place actually is. You have this image in your head of it being gigantic or at least pretty big, and honestly? It's quite small. <div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsIsZITsvlN29Fs7fZimqFPk4kEbisivno4d-iFOQaURkAQ__chZTZNWATkLLN3QP-uzLlrPa1T9HFikzw29UWogyvJ2-rix4Nh3YebHwAz093OM_Ci6PNY0Ckk-hvqR1AnRWC3HBLbI/s1600/IMG_3847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsIsZITsvlN29Fs7fZimqFPk4kEbisivno4d-iFOQaURkAQ__chZTZNWATkLLN3QP-uzLlrPa1T9HFikzw29UWogyvJ2-rix4Nh3YebHwAz093OM_Ci6PNY0Ckk-hvqR1AnRWC3HBLbI/s1600/IMG_3847.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like my St. Basil's with trees.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4V7w2bCzDTl4gJZMskGDH49QRtM0buH4b6g7WUq-GEQ8TVa6bB5u3DKuygQy4FxdoDKELuLbKspsEuzMvIgxXZpwFn7qeiudxWS8xBsrukZi1JYOL93kBQzaQtcAqnSZoRH5S36ZO58/s1600/IMG_3848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4V7w2bCzDTl4gJZMskGDH49QRtM0buH4b6g7WUq-GEQ8TVa6bB5u3DKuygQy4FxdoDKELuLbKspsEuzMvIgxXZpwFn7qeiudxWS8xBsrukZi1JYOL93kBQzaQtcAqnSZoRH5S36ZO58/s1600/IMG_3848.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like my St. Basil's with sun.</td></tr>
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<b>The Moscow River Tour</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
We finished off our epic Moscow whirlwind extravaganza with a scenic two hour tour down the Moscow river. It was a gorgeous day, there was beer to be drank on the boat, and it was nice because Dan and I got to hang out alone and just chat. All in all, the boat tour was my favorite part of Moscow. It was such a nice change of pace from Dushanbe.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCoxfj71NJ2hBqh2ZyV8-gNgleQkwUyhzAdSag9B1MR7l6evHobw-9JfwyODe8lInEe79Cd1clK_ZMKI92wx0GVvB7wkMLm8mHfSZnvztMj8b1hpRc4bSwMQ2mvHsqYOAr5iYqzxz4Gg/s1600/IMG_3858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCoxfj71NJ2hBqh2ZyV8-gNgleQkwUyhzAdSag9B1MR7l6evHobw-9JfwyODe8lInEe79Cd1clK_ZMKI92wx0GVvB7wkMLm8mHfSZnvztMj8b1hpRc4bSwMQ2mvHsqYOAr5iYqzxz4Gg/s1600/IMG_3858.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A church...? No! A government building! I think!</td></tr>
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We saw all sorts of things on the river, including some government building that looked pretty impressive, the business part of town, and some pretty cool statues and parks. One of the statues included a depiction of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_the_Great_Statue" target="_blank">Peter the Great</a>, who founded the Russian navy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5TtqKBcIdRWXNk5XY6Vy_7B69KoofvAGBh459kBbYhewK42j2zIxvhy23k1dmOgaakNyAlWvekteZJ7xffHsrTrHKeOJ9T9vlgPYO5YKqJPLU05VZCbhxO2RkWAu8gLypJNrBN09_zA/s1600/IMG_3867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5TtqKBcIdRWXNk5XY6Vy_7B69KoofvAGBh459kBbYhewK42j2zIxvhy23k1dmOgaakNyAlWvekteZJ7xffHsrTrHKeOJ9T9vlgPYO5YKqJPLU05VZCbhxO2RkWAu8gLypJNrBN09_zA/s1600/IMG_3867.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moscow's Business District</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfODEm7wfjq2Ke8ZifWPZFciFOs2Gw35p8jo3yNeQecVxoWyBNDsb5ew-kyH0Ndz5x3bjadLXpew3t82cK3K-FajSbG5pmteWGXFmY0WPTg9AqShnujt38fL8CHw2i6-DFAXZdqg1PWVw/s1600/IMG_3870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfODEm7wfjq2Ke8ZifWPZFciFOs2Gw35p8jo3yNeQecVxoWyBNDsb5ew-kyH0Ndz5x3bjadLXpew3t82cK3K-FajSbG5pmteWGXFmY0WPTg9AqShnujt38fL8CHw2i6-DFAXZdqg1PWVw/s1600/IMG_3870.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Statue of the Dude Who Founded the Russian Navy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_H2MfjrPo6blVuOKk_cOMlgS6NIFoWhIc0UlV6Lv7FVI7emSXx3im7m6n7x-39gPvHOaH90pzKDjpFmv2yjcoxdMa2fuY51vTnd-Y6c5T3jlFADWTk9Sb5tk9NTww3sDmf-vrna4PJU/s1600/IMG_3876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_H2MfjrPo6blVuOKk_cOMlgS6NIFoWhIc0UlV6Lv7FVI7emSXx3im7m6n7x-39gPvHOaH90pzKDjpFmv2yjcoxdMa2fuY51vTnd-Y6c5T3jlFADWTk9Sb5tk9NTww3sDmf-vrna4PJU/s1600/IMG_3876.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A ministry... I think?</td></tr>
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After the tour, we wandered around the city for a little while to get to Dan's favorite <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piroshki" target="_blank">piroshki</a> place. We had some yummy piroshkis and said our goodbyes.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY29Tv4hucYgicGYBilp71EETR2_wa1CrhWiHgPutiyA2VQ35N9mHFC9mM49tK4JNwJFdH_3g1jX5jhrzpn7UtIJYNOkL2-gdKlKqSW6rPcDQ0xguASVcHqC1wkZW27zhbTSQ9BpzQyQ/s1600/IMG_3886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPY29Tv4hucYgicGYBilp71EETR2_wa1CrhWiHgPutiyA2VQ35N9mHFC9mM49tK4JNwJFdH_3g1jX5jhrzpn7UtIJYNOkL2-gdKlKqSW6rPcDQ0xguASVcHqC1wkZW27zhbTSQ9BpzQyQ/s1600/IMG_3886.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piroshki! </td></tr>
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Before I departed Moscow, I had one last meal. On my own, I broke under the pressure of seeing signs for Sushi restaurants everywhere and bought sushi. It wasn't nearly as good as some of the sushi I've had in the past, and for the price I was a little underwhelmed. But to completely honest? It was just nice to eat fish. Man I really miss fish.<br />
<br />
<b>Conclusion</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
All in all, I really liked Moscow. Some of the people were more friendly than others, but the city itself was pretty vast and I wished I had more time to explore it and spoke a little more Russian. If presented with an opportunity, I would love to return to Moscow someday, to see more and experience the culture a little more.<br />
<br />
If I ever go to Russia again, I will <b>definitely</b> make sure I visit St. Petersburg. I've been told by everyone that it's a sight to see, so I should probably see it when I have the chance next time.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading-- I'll have a post about a funny story that happened in Tajikistan soon!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-47105952081894002842014-05-30T13:53:00.002+05:002014-05-30T13:56:05.756+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 5: Moscow Part 1 -- It Wasn't Me!Okay okay okay. I'm the <b>worst</b>. I really have been inconsistent with this blogging thing. I've just found that life here has gotten pretty... normal. Nothing I do/see anymore seems all that strange/different so it seems silly to blog. But going to Moscow? That's pretty epic. I probably should have been a little more prompt on blogging about that. So without further ado, I present to you the first in a series of two blogs on my travel to Moscow, Russia.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4GbhLub8VJgE5d7MPSaZj4FSYWBDfynjWaGG2_5IiAvA0soBMtHm9bawKHWa3uUmpK07cPXGgiyIXoH-GvpLzIE8npN2xzGlrHyMsn8y7gir13HU5s8RFDS_MnqJJ5AYtEpiW4wSwFA/s1600/IMG_3857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4GbhLub8VJgE5d7MPSaZj4FSYWBDfynjWaGG2_5IiAvA0soBMtHm9bawKHWa3uUmpK07cPXGgiyIXoH-GvpLzIE8npN2xzGlrHyMsn8y7gir13HU5s8RFDS_MnqJJ5AYtEpiW4wSwFA/s1600/IMG_3857.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, look! It's that famous church in Russia that everyone thinks of when they think of Moscow!</td></tr>
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<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<b>The Visa</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Probably the most nervous I've ever been is when I went to pick up my visa after submitted the documents a week earlier, and finally reading the paper slip they gave me that was all in Russian except one phrase: PICKUP: 06/04/14. Remember: my flight out was on the 15th of May- so picking up a visa three weeks post wouldn't quite work.<br />
<br />
So, I realize this waiting outside the Russian Embassy which is essentially the place where Tajiks go and wait for the entire day just to maybe get birth certificates or other such documents (remember, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soviet_Union" target="_blank">this was a thing</a>). As someone applying for a visa (because, really, who does that here?) you get to push through all the Tajiks and wave your passport around like an idiot saying "I am an American, I need a visa" in horrible Russian. Well that's what I did, anyways...<br />
<br />
Then I got my visa, and it was for the right days. The moral of the story here is that the Russian embassy is scary and you need to be overly prepared with any possible documentation you can think of.<br />
<br />
<b>It Wasn't Me!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
This was probably the strangest part of my experience. On the flight to Istanbul from Dushanbe, I had an entire row to myself, as most people did. After a nice enjoyable nap, I sat up in my seat and started to stretch when I felt the guy behind me hit my right arm (pretty hard, too) a few times.<br />
<br />
I turned around and he started saying something to me in Russian, I asked him to speak in English and he made a fart noise. You know, like Ron Burgundy style..<br />
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To which I promptly said "what the f---?" and turned back around. Then not two seconds later I get a whiff of it. The undeniable smell of someone cutting the cheese. At this point there are only two options:<br />
1) He farted and wanted to warn me that he did it. <b>Weird.</b><br />
2) He thinks I farted. <b>It wasn't me!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Vnukovo Airport Makes You Walk A Really Long Time Without A Bathroom</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Self-explanatory. I really had to go, man!<br />
<br />
<b>Navigating Soviet Metros is a Skill (That I Possess) </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Turns out it isn't really difficult to manage metro systems in general, but I am proudly 2/2 on Soviet-era metro systems and I even got asked by a Russian if he was on the right train. Talk about encouraging! My directional/navigational senses are peaking-- do you think there's a job opportunity somewhere there??<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_z1KGISHqMVlWvaJck3XpPf3-iHldDTNs12lnunDG7H39tD8mMt_DsIbzlR058LMD7cPvYWs9cYDHQeXJgE7rdfZhqKFa-AneaSslIyDIx1t0iDdQQARFtzjWCXhQL6rHFLMb1uQW2I/s1600/IMG_3743.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_z1KGISHqMVlWvaJck3XpPf3-iHldDTNs12lnunDG7H39tD8mMt_DsIbzlR058LMD7cPvYWs9cYDHQeXJgE7rdfZhqKFa-AneaSslIyDIx1t0iDdQQARFtzjWCXhQL6rHFLMb1uQW2I/s1600/IMG_3743.PNG" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Got It!</i></td></tr>
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<br />
One thing: the Moscow Metro has like. 15 lines. I mean it's probably less than that, but there's in fact so many lines that they started to have to repeat colors in slightly different shades. <i>"Now is it the light green or dark green line that takes me to work?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I managed to get form Vnukovo Airport, which is about an hour outside of the city, to my hotel without any hiccups. It wasn't terribly difficult, but I took a train to the metro line and then navigated from there. I was staying at the Hyatt which was right next to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bolshoi_theatre" target="_blank">Bolshoi Theatre</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnix32XVrTHV6narY4Kqu1Z9EZ-TzJu4kqdtKgEGJc56ITRgztjl9YNujFRa3pJGhPAkLTi7p07MgSACZmKgeKiewVClu0DyLUbSTGR2MJsqy_TnEPkklMfaGpVdS4pqQBi2YV4s5F1g/s1600/IMG_3745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMnix32XVrTHV6narY4Kqu1Z9EZ-TzJu4kqdtKgEGJc56ITRgztjl9YNujFRa3pJGhPAkLTi7p07MgSACZmKgeKiewVClu0DyLUbSTGR2MJsqy_TnEPkklMfaGpVdS4pqQBi2YV4s5F1g/s1600/IMG_3745.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look it's a bad angle shot of the Bolshoi! (If you want professional looking photos, Google it!) </td></tr>
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<br />
My friend and roommate from college, Dan, was busy until later in the night, so I spent the afternoon exploring the close proximity around the hotel and finding some dinner. As you can imagine, I was craving borscht (yes, I know, it's technically Ukrainian) so I enjoyed a nice bowl of borscht at a local place.<br />
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Didn't do much that night (super tired), but it was nice to see Dan later and catch up. The next few days were much more action packed as we began our 72-hour whirlwind extravaganza to see Moscow.<br />
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<b>The Golden Ring</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Dan's family was super awesome the whole weekend, they included me in everything (mostly I think because Dan and his mom were there) and wanted me to really see all Moscow had going for it. They really helped make the experience great, and it started with our trip to the golden ring.<br />
<br />
Moscow is kind of like Houston in that they keep building up around it and incorporating more cities on the outskirts into the city proper. So what you have is essentially a growing circle that is Moscow. There are three major highways that circle Moscow, each one bigger than the last. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_ring" target="_blank">The Golden Ring</a> is the third ring, and further away (and therefore, most traffic-y).<br />
<br />
It is called the golden ring because there are a number of older, important Russian Orthodox churches on this ring. And as you may or may not know, Russians love their gold. So we go to go to some of these older churches and we even lucked out and got to go to the top of a bell tower in one of the churches.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XeAi20EIYNFUUWq8GMi1dDch5DjPjpZIPRalLQZdtshaB4fjKy-Z5ey8ABVAdvf_Xfj9BI_1cRSKT1SdeIIsQ0o6LeEnhx3jFJ-s6WyH71XFg_xE1VapffX5iW04xASjOmX5ztZU3k4/s1600/IMG_3757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9XeAi20EIYNFUUWq8GMi1dDch5DjPjpZIPRalLQZdtshaB4fjKy-Z5ey8ABVAdvf_Xfj9BI_1cRSKT1SdeIIsQ0o6LeEnhx3jFJ-s6WyH71XFg_xE1VapffX5iW04xASjOmX5ztZU3k4/s1600/IMG_3757.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A church with some gold stuff!</td></tr>
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These churches were really quite cool looking. Russian Orthodox is heavy in iconography, so there were also a lot of icons inside (lots of Mary and the other patron saints, really just like Catholicism but more... icon-y and gold). I don't want to sound bad here, but as interesting as the churches were, it was a bit like seeing one meant you had seen them all. They were still cool to look at, just... redundant on the inside.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQ8F8BCG0tDo-xDajXog7ymmQLGFO-6FFyEF0dIXQoUlZGuq22iy8LUSfxBjoD7aK3APs1UzajeP1Jljuqkj-L75N_zChOCNbBbE0WXj46WcbfXmbSUABH65owkmOlftK9DgTwXqLLVA/s1600/IMG_3765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQ8F8BCG0tDo-xDajXog7ymmQLGFO-6FFyEF0dIXQoUlZGuq22iy8LUSfxBjoD7aK3APs1UzajeP1Jljuqkj-L75N_zChOCNbBbE0WXj46WcbfXmbSUABH65owkmOlftK9DgTwXqLLVA/s1600/IMG_3765.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the church where we actually got to climb to the top, where the bell tower is. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpqLTm1DJDhYEPvwXz7I8BzJkMV53xp3titLsgsNEL7QWE0ZiQSGb1W0ff1iR-nq3W0fOsU-HjYZE4krwTVDXwmzt9CRngwamTspIQmyDG2ruChfBAMxC0Pyxt8OZ6wJqJHbIlGDIgkE/s1600/IMG_3772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpqLTm1DJDhYEPvwXz7I8BzJkMV53xp3titLsgsNEL7QWE0ZiQSGb1W0ff1iR-nq3W0fOsU-HjYZE4krwTVDXwmzt9CRngwamTspIQmyDG2ruChfBAMxC0Pyxt8OZ6wJqJHbIlGDIgkE/s1600/IMG_3772.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh hai, Jesus! Didn't see you up there!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOwTKcCFglbZZ7gJ0At6WSUrWWWT1pBfmI46hBloRwIdTyVnK3cmY1j1OBWsXwRxOxKDqLYzmvIb01iA_5GtYCwrbm81NKy8LlOK7JFqH2kwRjBbg0jIrSgimNWPL9WB_sja1KQAAcrM/s1600/IMG_3786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOwTKcCFglbZZ7gJ0At6WSUrWWWT1pBfmI46hBloRwIdTyVnK3cmY1j1OBWsXwRxOxKDqLYzmvIb01iA_5GtYCwrbm81NKy8LlOK7JFqH2kwRjBbg0jIrSgimNWPL9WB_sja1KQAAcrM/s1600/IMG_3786.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan, in a bell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWublYfUk4vnJACcLBK1RjjNqVolwgg2EGFRNEnoq7-uQ0vQ9RmxytSSel17RAzEVKOFP-BYYt8t6GYoSzRpVSzrmQFy1YBWR6y7ezWbqcul28olhK-VScVHQjDwYe5QXgA0ap8wZaJg/s1600/IMG_3796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWublYfUk4vnJACcLBK1RjjNqVolwgg2EGFRNEnoq7-uQ0vQ9RmxytSSel17RAzEVKOFP-BYYt8t6GYoSzRpVSzrmQFy1YBWR6y7ezWbqcul28olhK-VScVHQjDwYe5QXgA0ap8wZaJg/s1600/IMG_3796.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the top of the bell tower.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That's all for now. Moscow Part 2 will be up in a bit, which will include (you guessed it!) more churches, more bells, some red stuff, and a boat tour on the Moscow river.<br />
<i><br /></i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-22120857479693852142014-03-25T19:42:00.001+05:002014-03-28T12:11:56.410+05:00Northeast for the holidaysThe irony of the English transliteration of Garm is that <i>garm</i> in Tajik/Farsi means 'warm'. For the record, the actually pronunciation of Garm is more of a guttural <i>gharm</i>-- which does not, in fact, have the same meaning. Garm is actually quite colder, as it is at a higher altitude and further north than Dushanbe.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
Also if you forgot which holiday I'm referring to, I'll remind you of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nowruz" target="_blank">Nowruz/Novruz</a>. The government declared Friday the 21st of March until Thursday the 26th of March a holiday, so I had some time to do some light travelling if I could manage and the stars aligned for me to go to Garm!<br />
<br />
Garm is situated in the Rasht Valley on the bank of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vakhsh_River" target="_blank">Vakhsh River</a>, which is locally referred to as the <i>Surkhob </i>(literally "red water" but a more accurate translation would be "red river"). It's important to note that it's not naturally red, and it's actually <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vakhsh_River#Environmental_problems" target="_blank">rather bad</a> that it is. The river is huge. Unfortunately, it's still not quite spring here so the river isn't in full force-- but I can imagine just how monstrous this river is when the glaciers and streams upstream have finally started to melt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibFFFhlFb2yEyvjxtaIHDzp3OLAGkjuOyWgJ9ZLMHpjv7WQQviArDxPLLJ6EX_7nRhoV0jdmP3m3AZNx6HBHXCCVYRwagjNYSX3gIm_GR_RP6azVVBc6NUR19f-xDfHqfSymeMX9mMKTI/s1600/IMG_3626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibFFFhlFb2yEyvjxtaIHDzp3OLAGkjuOyWgJ9ZLMHpjv7WQQviArDxPLLJ6EX_7nRhoV0jdmP3m3AZNx6HBHXCCVYRwagjNYSX3gIm_GR_RP6azVVBc6NUR19f-xDfHqfSymeMX9mMKTI/s1600/IMG_3626.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with the <i>Surkhob </i>in the background</td></tr>
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So how did I end up deciding to come to Garm anyways? For this I must delve into the Tajik legend that is Janice.<br />
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Janice is an American living in Garm, and she is also a <i>chovondoz</i> (cho-von-doze, translation: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buzkashi" target="_blank">b</a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buzkashi" target="_blank">ushkashi </a>player-- "booze-ka-she"). She has been in the Rasht valley for a number of years, and she is so famous that I was once in fact in the Dushanbe airport flying to Almaty (you remember, <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-3-three.html" target="_blank">yeah</a>?) when a Tajik man noticed I was a foreigner (not so difficult to spot, really... the skin color is a dead give away). He approached me and began speaking spectacular English, and when he found out I was American he began to describe a woman he had met in Garm who played buzkashi and spoke perfect Tajik. He was, of course, referring to Janice.<br />
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So Janice and I had made acquaintance before, but it had been in passing and through a mutual friend. Last weekend however, I was helping another American friend of mine clean out her Tajik house of four years, as she was moving on to a new job and leaving Dushanbe when Janice observed my apparent ability to stay focused on packing. Rightly so, she recruited me to come to Garm during the holiday weekend.<br />
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We spoke on Saturday, and the general plan was to make it to Norobod on Sunday where I would meet Janice (as well as all of her <i>chovondoz</i> friends) and watch my first buzkashi match.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGE3w5pZl1J7yP9XjVw8XywCNZLYZe4UwcXQEVCy83hADCzEc1_cswa9mFftxSvrIViBcAlIPjXWhR_vWdDjI3haGgxRDTByjYtP3l5CuIfaAdnzNhRLAX7mhL-RWIao9vI4DZnd0LsCk/s1600/Garm.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGE3w5pZl1J7yP9XjVw8XywCNZLYZe4UwcXQEVCy83hADCzEc1_cswa9mFftxSvrIViBcAlIPjXWhR_vWdDjI3haGgxRDTByjYtP3l5CuIfaAdnzNhRLAX7mhL-RWIao9vI4DZnd0LsCk/s1600/Garm.PNG" height="132" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because Tajik geography is about as much "your thing" as the Tajik language is<br />
<i>Click to enlarge</i></td></tr>
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So I definitely got thrown into this, but it was really cool seeing buzkashi for the first time. For those of you too lazy to click and the article I linked earlier, the basic concept is that horseback riders fight for the corpse of a goat (can also be a calf, or other such animals, usually beheaded). The idea is to pick up the goat and get it into either a hole or tire (depends on how serious the match is, I suppose). If the goat lands entirely or mostly in the hole/tire it is deemed <i>halal</i> (which is actually Arabic and especially important in Islam, as it means acceptable according to Muslim law) and if it has not landed the appropriate amount in the same tire/hole it is deemed <i>haram</i> (conversely, this means forbidden in Islamic law).<br />
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Once someone gets the goat it isn't as simple as throwing it in the hole, though. The other riders try to grab the goat and steal it from the rider that has picked it up. The goat is actually pulled. Hence the name of the sport, <i>buz </i>(goat) <i>kashi</i> (from the verb to pull, <i>kashidan</i>) or goat-pulling. Interesting right?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1erifSz1bJ-wvRQRIbhJmKkzci80Q7iP2mE6HOtXLW9ZPS5m967XlnwdERPWPgKOx0uX9w8ScIbsrGw4C3FwUKrrs3iC6atldxRWKzz39ic7Kz1wzBaRyGO9mky9pbuz-ohcpTlifw4/s1600/IMG_3602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1erifSz1bJ-wvRQRIbhJmKkzci80Q7iP2mE6HOtXLW9ZPS5m967XlnwdERPWPgKOx0uX9w8ScIbsrGw4C3FwUKrrs3iC6atldxRWKzz39ic7Kz1wzBaRyGO9mky9pbuz-ohcpTlifw4/s1600/IMG_3602.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Buz", as Janice refers to it</td></tr>
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So truly the most exhilarating part of the sport is that the crowd eventually moves down onto the field of play to watch, and this will without fail result in a massive scramble at some point as the forty-some-odd horses change their direction and come charging in the direction of the crowd. The first time this happened I was rather afraid and ran a little too early, a little to fast, and managed to fall flat on my ass in the middle of the muddy field. I would like to say that no one saw, but lest we forget how easily I stand out (especially this far away from Dushanbe)-- everyone saw.<br />
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Janice takes a lot of photos and videos, so she had me on video duty which gave me more of an excuse to stand closer to the action. I have to say, the adrenaline of running/jumping out of the way of horses really made it a cool experience. Buzkashi itself is kind of meh, at least for my first time watching, but the adrenaline will definitely make me come back.<br />
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Afterward we headed another hour into the Rasht Valley to Janice's place in Garm. Monday was spent almost entirely organizing and sorting through her things, dividing stuff into piles to go back to the US or to sell, and so on. It was rather exhausting work, but Janice said that if I worked hard enough she would take me around and show me more of the valley the next day.<br />
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Sure enough, Tuesday rolled around and we went off to see some friends in a place another hour away, called Mirtob. We went to visit her friend, who (as she claims) "makes the best <a href="http://menu.tj/content-media/4153d2525af249a_288x190.png" target="_blank">kurutob</a>". The road on the way there was crazy cool, as it winded up the side of a number of mountains and through some cool passes. The sight was something to behold as you looked down at the humongous riverbed below.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRe7NCqPTdj4QuIOR-pKbwunVfNBHUKlcay0Sttl1r2ZiH2a7183M3Isuq2J-ckcuNOEPHBLNzQodwG21A-AMjuUxg2vTZCQBPcva8i2GU4cFOU_ffdmG7EJV7lC1Ox52258VuK9VYxw/s1600/IMG_3603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhRe7NCqPTdj4QuIOR-pKbwunVfNBHUKlcay0Sttl1r2ZiH2a7183M3Isuq2J-ckcuNOEPHBLNzQodwG21A-AMjuUxg2vTZCQBPcva8i2GU4cFOU_ffdmG7EJV7lC1Ox52258VuK9VYxw/s1600/IMG_3603.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The worst picture of the best view ever</td></tr>
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Her friend made some pretty delicious kurotob, but I'm still partial to my "ladies" in Dushanbe. We met some of his family, and then we took a nice walk up part of the mountain/hill he lived on. I say hill because the part where his family's houses were located were indeed a hill, but they were also the foothills of a giant mountain that loomed in the distance. I wish my phone's camera could better capture just how gorgeous it was-- the mountain was obscured by fog from melting snow and you could make out, just barely, the mountain's peak as it rose in the background.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQRwVdcwlgMzdCAjDqPTrKnO3cHwczNvhFKNG7Ze8pcl1fhtJwQ4AOAzfYdL5rWbXQibHACBFyXLOzMwOjxMEVgV3P3jUxqHqceoYxQw9pDWRQOqyrQVq5-rMSp2o0h8F84xaXo-INbI/s1600/IMG_3615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQRwVdcwlgMzdCAjDqPTrKnO3cHwczNvhFKNG7Ze8pcl1fhtJwQ4AOAzfYdL5rWbXQibHACBFyXLOzMwOjxMEVgV3P3jUxqHqceoYxQw9pDWRQOqyrQVq5-rMSp2o0h8F84xaXo-INbI/s1600/IMG_3615.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Help- my iPhone's camera is junk!</td></tr>
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So after walking around, we headed back towards a village called Jafr, and in Jafr we met another friend of Janice's who runs an orchard and is looking to expand the orchard for future tourism. The area looks pretty neat, but the orchard is probably much spiffier in the summertime when there's actually things growing-- at least it was worth it because the guy running it was also really nice and hilarious. Hope to make another trip up there when it gets warm.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuVIw29nwn3xg75gHZD9XIUYpNnk-al6dYziFKi-ZUUW6KOxJO_2kvgMRRWgmf7K9Q95cR5JHiLlsaD8NbGdwmRaO1ZbFT4f53u5UxuYwxGHesOfoh1qzN8-opXhBXOZTFVrVDudKn_g/s1600/IMG_3638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuVIw29nwn3xg75gHZD9XIUYpNnk-al6dYziFKi-ZUUW6KOxJO_2kvgMRRWgmf7K9Q95cR5JHiLlsaD8NbGdwmRaO1ZbFT4f53u5UxuYwxGHesOfoh1qzN8-opXhBXOZTFVrVDudKn_g/s1600/IMG_3638.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just outside said orchard.</td></tr>
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All in all, I've had a great time. It was fun to practice my Tajik outside of the city and it was also exciting to remember just how far my Tajik has come along. I really should get out of the city more-- it can get really repetitive in Dushanbe and I haven't even begun to see the rest of this incredible country.<br />
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P.S. Sorry for forgetting to blog in March. I was doing so good in February, but March got really busy especially with moving into another apartment (more on that later).</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-32120209265711927102014-02-27T22:21:00.003+05:002014-03-28T12:11:31.051+05:00Why You Should Always Have a Snickers on Hand<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know what you're thinking: "Another blog post about soup?!" but wait. Hear me out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tonight I tried to cook soup.</span><br />
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The night began with me, being lazy, and not having any bottled water around (which, unfortunately prevents me from doing most of the cooking I'm capable of). So, after some arguments with my stomach I finally forced myself to walk the ten minutes down the road to go to the store. I had been wanting to make a soup for awhile, I figured it was easy, and should be tasty.<br />
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I got some onions, got some rice (cuz rice goes in everything, duh), some grain that I have no clue what it is, and then made my way home to get started. </div>
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It all started so well.</div>
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I put in the bouillon. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkypV9YEsj5eKlah7TWQgeWdljSVb2iv1jTVzeId3ZfadG8igxZcM5ZOvdE_4mDdxi7tIRgVQ1q37XTrsq_ro3iplXYyTMWF76BrbRav4-BU2azTgmRCl0q68kwtLQsV17LM_9OG6jr_w/s640/blogger-image-154225496.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkypV9YEsj5eKlah7TWQgeWdljSVb2iv1jTVzeId3ZfadG8igxZcM5ZOvdE_4mDdxi7tIRgVQ1q37XTrsq_ro3iplXYyTMWF76BrbRav4-BU2azTgmRCl0q68kwtLQsV17LM_9OG6jr_w/s640/blogger-image-154225496.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bouillon water!</td></tr>
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I chopped onions while the water boiled.</div>
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I pre-soaked my rice and other mysterious grain. (f<b>atal mistake #1?</b>)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrskdRuSKfVHbsGITluxeMeklNTJ9HH_M1ZYAEOqX5yu2aX-mU0LCyjxFnuc5LrdjXSqhp8YDtr-UNCZFUgCDyZYKrvi8hEKL_NlIe0uxLoa-u2nXzJv9jPUN7iwfwcfrDLiDfCf6Yy0Y/s640/blogger-image-1557321155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrskdRuSKfVHbsGITluxeMeklNTJ9HH_M1ZYAEOqX5yu2aX-mU0LCyjxFnuc5LrdjXSqhp8YDtr-UNCZFUgCDyZYKrvi8hEKL_NlIe0uxLoa-u2nXzJv9jPUN7iwfwcfrDLiDfCf6Yy0Y/s640/blogger-image-1557321155.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soaking rice and mystery grain!</td></tr>
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I even caramelized my onions, because someone said that was a good idea.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx04gvVN6svKtC8SALa6lX8FTK8NiUDyVIz34pohZZpagAhBvcCS_4VtqM7VYHHqTVrUW1Ohq7nUID9R_WjEXCuL0FpTBvkfx1oaPUhdQXMbpV0N2Q7eSTitzyLNiDImO5jCSv8uPS7Dg/s640/blogger-image--622237856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx04gvVN6svKtC8SALa6lX8FTK8NiUDyVIz34pohZZpagAhBvcCS_4VtqM7VYHHqTVrUW1Ohq7nUID9R_WjEXCuL0FpTBvkfx1oaPUhdQXMbpV0N2Q7eSTitzyLNiDImO5jCSv8uPS7Dg/s640/blogger-image--622237856.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onions caramelizing on an open range.</td></tr>
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That's when I made my next <b>fatal mistake</b>. I decided to put all of the rice and mysterious grain into the pot of boiling water. That is to say. I put the rice, rice water, mysterious grain, and mysterious grain water all in the pot. </div>
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So then I saw this bag of almost-finished half shell pastas and thought: "ehhh, why not?!" (<b>#3</b>)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0aq8Q-bDJLiW9yRK0NUgNnqokUq_2pQ_Z2GWTdWRXvFpGzeEjXQUBKOIepVw_W9DnchP06h9QmGWD2AyF0pXRHphhf8UXY-UNM_DgVkBv3DLdLb020gicCY46SGkDYxV9xGc4-lr5_0/s640/blogger-image--615440640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0aq8Q-bDJLiW9yRK0NUgNnqokUq_2pQ_Z2GWTdWRXvFpGzeEjXQUBKOIepVw_W9DnchP06h9QmGWD2AyF0pXRHphhf8UXY-UNM_DgVkBv3DLdLb020gicCY46SGkDYxV9xGc4-lr5_0/s640/blogger-image--615440640.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That damn bag of pasta!</td></tr>
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Do you know what happened next? My soup got that weird slime on the side and I knew it was going to go downhill. The color of the soup also went from a nice dark brown to a dirty-water color. I panicked. I threw in spices because that's all I could think to do (<b>#4</b>)!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ-9OtbNRbtvjPrPGKbJjqvyTqfIFInSsdsCdLJwxwZPgrqXSw1xjxJ5kYNTVswltG3wtfD-SOyNXYVx1WU79XvLSaZZvBLGSVN5F_oHQTIfBsJIFIG93Vpmu0G2uMRLw3N-R4knxq7g/s640/blogger-image-451980045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ-9OtbNRbtvjPrPGKbJjqvyTqfIFInSsdsCdLJwxwZPgrqXSw1xjxJ5kYNTVswltG3wtfD-SOyNXYVx1WU79XvLSaZZvBLGSVN5F_oHQTIfBsJIFIG93Vpmu0G2uMRLw3N-R4knxq7g/s640/blogger-image-451980045.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"All the spices!"</td></tr>
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I finally calmed myself down, let the soup finish its boiling time and let it simmer for the next hour. In the back of my mind I knew what was going to happen when it came time to eat this soup, but I nonetheless stirred every five minutes and resisted the urges to add more spices.</div>
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And then, and then slowly the soup went from soup to stew. And then slowly it went from stew to a gumbo-like consistency. And that's when I panicked again and added even more water (<b>#5?</b>). Then, then I continued to stir every five minutes.</div>
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Hesitantly, as the hour of simmering came to an end, I took the lid off so I could face my creation.</div>
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I gulped.</div>
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I've been told that you are supposed to finish a soup with vinegar.</div>
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So in my crazy, panicky, hungry state, I reached down and grabbed the vinegar.</div>
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And boy did I finish that soup with vinegar (<b>#6?</b>).</div>
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Sluggishly I reached for the bowl. I knew what was about to happen. My taste buds were scared but my stomach was roaring. I poured some soup/stew/gumbo into the bowl.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2cZn0BbK1DktVYzqhZdPK9Oziq_iGp0hyphenhyphenOfbcNiNQ2MMt6_MA12DBgUVx3MQOC81asp_JL8lCVrf1u3yXfas6gD8De6_NgLnX_B7C4tuE_sTTBAvTjPoQaxk2XU1mMyYlM3WGnRKGp4/s640/blogger-image-298335611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2cZn0BbK1DktVYzqhZdPK9Oziq_iGp0hyphenhyphenOfbcNiNQ2MMt6_MA12DBgUVx3MQOC81asp_JL8lCVrf1u3yXfas6gD8De6_NgLnX_B7C4tuE_sTTBAvTjPoQaxk2XU1mMyYlM3WGnRKGp4/s640/blogger-image-298335611.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eek.</td></tr>
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I reached for the spoon. I took a bite.</div>
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Pure salt. Pure, starchy salt. </div>
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Don't forget the still kind-of-crunchy rice. </div>
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Yuck.</div>
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I don't even want to think about the cleanup that's about to be involved with this.</div>
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And that, my friends, is why you should always have a snickers on hand: emergency dinner. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgI9q9T9iWGJ2roh_y6py5-H_9d7UZHgignIorw06XG6Sbk5VvSDjO9bf0kqehNb33MUbPmU24QwNiX1yG6bPT2VjDspuePIqCl_y2h84wHh6upyeHrCe9UooKAGcPbvnNc5vdjlrvzE/s640/blogger-image--567410609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgI9q9T9iWGJ2roh_y6py5-H_9d7UZHgignIorw06XG6Sbk5VvSDjO9bf0kqehNb33MUbPmU24QwNiX1yG6bPT2VjDspuePIqCl_y2h84wHh6upyeHrCe9UooKAGcPbvnNc5vdjlrvzE/s640/blogger-image--567410609.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner!</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-21603042568699998192014-02-26T10:59:00.003+05:002014-03-28T12:11:48.987+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 4: Almaty, KazakhstanAfter a short stint, we return to the post-soviet chronicles and review Almaty, Kazakhstan.<br />
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Previous editions can be found <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-1-kyiv.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-2-lviv.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-3-three.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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<b>Pronunciation</b></div>
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Good luck. No, but seriously... the English pronunciation is super easy and it's said exactly as it looks (Al-mot-e). Unfortunately for us, no one seems to understand when you say Almaty in the English pronunciation. They simply look at you oddly and wonder what you could be possibly talking about. So here are the variants on pronunciation I encountered there and in Tajikistan:</div>
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Kazakhs pronouncing it in Kazakh: Almatiye (Al-mot-e-a)</div>
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Russians pronouncing it in Russian: Almat?? (Al-mot-*choke on your tongue*) </div>
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Some Tajiks pronouncing it in Russian: Almato (Al-mot-o)<br />
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Strange how one city's name could be pronounced so many different ways. Or not pronounced. Or whatever.<br />
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<b>So, like, Almaty is... where again?</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QkJe3oyrV41USBC8n6yc9TsmvZgaQ8NzsK0z_F9w16zdMkFo5Ee4ZvJpuBVUx3hLvC1_FLdko3kPN55KPaDBsGxnkESjCIf6uAVK4KyfDDxTvhULDP90w7Ht0YFP0XvEY1zTD9d5dhk/s1600/almaty+map.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4QkJe3oyrV41USBC8n6yc9TsmvZgaQ8NzsK0z_F9w16zdMkFo5Ee4ZvJpuBVUx3hLvC1_FLdko3kPN55KPaDBsGxnkESjCIf6uAVK4KyfDDxTvhULDP90w7Ht0YFP0XvEY1zTD9d5dhk/s1600/almaty+map.png" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's Almaty-- and then some! (Click to enlarge)<br />
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<b>Coolest View In-Flight Ever</b></div>
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Lots of snow tipped mountains. Here's some pics, but honestly they don't do it justice. My phone just can't capture the depth of what it looks like. Pretty freaking breathtaking. You'll just have to trust me on this.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXw7ozg5NhgRpzgY8JcSNn03r9aqW1TivA6wFnR6eWXlfDXV8p1Hehi1xZuV5KZnrHPnTNvi4DS-9t_4Er0teSygF1HbIWhvRWY3NthEMWPq_Ybcn36c2CrjQT-JrZmH05FXjnOzyiSo/s640/blogger-image-1728606186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXw7ozg5NhgRpzgY8JcSNn03r9aqW1TivA6wFnR6eWXlfDXV8p1Hehi1xZuV5KZnrHPnTNvi4DS-9t_4Er0teSygF1HbIWhvRWY3NthEMWPq_Ybcn36c2CrjQT-JrZmH05FXjnOzyiSo/s640/blogger-image-1728606186.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ohhh Mountainy... and jet-enginey...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesKWhu89Fbyi-L0Ke8EKi6D2DcRyz82f268LPYWjYyu-kA-bCYbixF6mtnLpFxAKQL3j07vsonZuD1vXj3jDip-gXX4UVFv6n1AOmMZZ01kjpUCilWxqXZ2nliTj-AZJxD3IeFz9C1bQ/s640/blogger-image--587144974.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesKWhu89Fbyi-L0Ke8EKi6D2DcRyz82f268LPYWjYyu-kA-bCYbixF6mtnLpFxAKQL3j07vsonZuD1vXj3jDip-gXX4UVFv6n1AOmMZZ01kjpUCilWxqXZ2nliTj-AZJxD3IeFz9C1bQ/s640/blogger-image--587144974.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wish that jet engine would move- trying to take a picture here!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72MUeIAxoJccf1aeejvqQDp7isTzGJYIJQ9ZA02eVm7iMQN72N2H5Haf_3p3jYv1Z4EY3X8ZvgcM2Lj3FcrtWzPVEr4D_5x1TRlkk3ajTwKDf2-74PdRgitBwTND_y1yxDhX95GJOs6E/s640/blogger-image-748941360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72MUeIAxoJccf1aeejvqQDp7isTzGJYIJQ9ZA02eVm7iMQN72N2H5Haf_3p3jYv1Z4EY3X8ZvgcM2Lj3FcrtWzPVEr4D_5x1TRlkk3ajTwKDf2-74PdRgitBwTND_y1yxDhX95GJOs6E/s640/blogger-image-748941360.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountains-that-look-really-small-that-are-actually-huge.</td></tr>
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<b>Expensiveeeee</b></div>
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Almaty is like. NYC expensive. Cool city, loved the heck out of it, but woahhhhhhh I did not have the funds for that.<br />
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<b>The Shower Situation</b></div>
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Look honestly maybe I've just had bad luck but something about these showers in these post-Soviet countries has me perplexed. First and foremost, these showers are the kind that have two separate knobs, one for your hot water and one for your cold water. Fine, okay I went to college I get that you have to open the valves to the right amount to mix.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gU3aIJgk3w-IeCQLSmQLXdonT78fxIhyphenhyphenFMNM9W-KqHjM6xXWk0ZOUQfe7u3MYxcBmRVIypOWHS84OW2gwB9rw3CZsTv0LIw_XoeN1FhEyxYzvwa9OC5h6fKlblEj6iLnXtoB5sLEbhQ/s640/blogger-image-1423719255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gU3aIJgk3w-IeCQLSmQLXdonT78fxIhyphenhyphenFMNM9W-KqHjM6xXWk0ZOUQfe7u3MYxcBmRVIypOWHS84OW2gwB9rw3CZsTv0LIw_XoeN1FhEyxYzvwa9OC5h6fKlblEj6iLnXtoB5sLEbhQ/s640/blogger-image-1423719255.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I'm working with, folks.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's where the problems begin:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>1) Incorrectly labeled hot/cold forever messes with your mind. </b>You finally start to figure out that the shower you're in is incorrectly labeled (you know, hot==cold and cold==hot) and then you find a sink somewhere in a restaurant that is the same and you finally start to get it and you start reaching for the cold when you want the hot water. Oh but it's not that simple. Because apparently not everyone wants to be consistently wrong. Every time I confronted a new water contraption (sink/shower/whatever)-- and really still this is true to this day-- I really sit there and think about what my first choice is going to be. Because, you know, the thing is that if you choose hot it's REALLY FREAKING HOT. Like so hot you could make hot tea hot. and I don't like pouring that on my hands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh and I'm sure some of you out there are laughing saying "Oh Nick, just turn on both at the same time so that they mix and you don't burn!"... well before you go and say that consider my next point:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>2) The distance between your water feature and your hot water tank changes your ratio of hot/cold water. </b>Yeah, it's kind of obvious but you really need to think about the ramifications of this. First, if your hot water heater is really far away, you're almost com</span>pletely in the dark about which of the knobs is hot or cold because all they're producing is cold water. This wait can almost feel like hours, especially if you are in Almaty in the winter waiting for the warm stuff to come.<br />
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The truly worst part is the other way around though. When the hot water heater is so close that it's scalding, skin-peeling, destructive water comes so quickly that you barely have enough time to think "oh Sweet baby Jesus it's so hot" before your covered in second degree burns.<br />
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<b>3) And when it's all said and done, I can never seem to get the right mixture. </b>The water is too hot, so I open the cold water valve a tiny fraction of a millimeter and the water goes ice cold. I switch a tiny fraction of a millimeter closed and it's scalding hot again. I close the hot water valve just a tiny fraction of a millimeter and it's ice cold... you get the picture. Tinkering with my shower temperature ends up taking more time than the entire shower itself, and the worst part is that in the end I can't even find a decent temperature.<br />
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Most of my showers eventually happen with my realizing how much time I've wasted, then deciding that hot is better than cold (because seriously, it's cold and taking a cold shower when it's cold is just... cold). But what that really means is I have to stand on the edge of the water and splash water on to me. And then when it's time to wash the shampoo out of my hair (seriously the worst part) I have to psyche myself up for a good three minutes and then breathe a few times rapidly and jump in while frantically trying to get the shampoo out of my hair AS FAST AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.<br />
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<b>4) And then everything is so... steamy. </b>You know what it's like when you pour a pot of boiling/about to boil water into the sink and it erupts in steam? That's pretty much how all my showers go. So, I leave the shower and everything (the floor, the toilet, the toilet paper, the towels, my glasses, etc.) are steamed up. And then you open the door and in comes the coldest, most arctic air, and I'm pretty sure this is how tornadoes happen in nature right? Cold air + hot air? No? Okay whatever.<br />
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<b>But Seriously, Almaty was pretty cool</b></div>
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Overall Almaty was a cool city, and expenses aside I would enjoy going back sometime (when I know more Russian, for sure). It also ended up going well on the visa-front, so that's a major plus. Actually, it went so smoothly I was kind of left in shock.</div>
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After some struggles to find the Tajik Consulate (because, seriously, it's not anywhere of note and it's totally concealed), I greeted the nice man in the consulate who was really impressed I spoke Tajik and looked over my application for maybe two minutes. He then told me to pay (less than I would have paid in the US) and told me to come back tomorrow. I, per rule #1-15 of Tajik Embassies & Visas, wanted to insure that he did in fact say 'tomorrow'. He must have thought I was pretty stupid, because the conversation went something like this:<br />
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Me: "I can get my visa tomorrow?"<br />
Him: "Yes, tomorrow."<br />
Me: "Tomorrow? Meaning Wednesday?"<br />
Him: [in English] "To-mor-row."<br />
Me: "Okay. Tomorrow... right?"<br />
Him: "Have a good day!"<br />
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Every fiber in my body was sure that I was going to show up the next day (Wednesday) and it wasn't going to be ready. But I walked up, the guy instantly recognized me, grabbed my passport, showed me the visa, and told me to have a great time back in Tajikistan. SUCCESSSSSSS!<br />
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Then I sat around a hotel for the next few days until my flight back to Dushanbe on Saturday.<br />
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Yay Almaty!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZ4n-Q0HAuOMGBmQjLw_NuBiuRNbxvJrNOrcIbc8B4IKzu43J72U5xkp2i2FILfiuPeD14se2R0c3tOefNuoEip7d1oRJ91xgkxTNGAN3sIeOAqCewqHC_A0Mxi5B4I82KWqCzBFMPv4/s640/blogger-image-1323403517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZ4n-Q0HAuOMGBmQjLw_NuBiuRNbxvJrNOrcIbc8B4IKzu43J72U5xkp2i2FILfiuPeD14se2R0c3tOefNuoEip7d1oRJ91xgkxTNGAN3sIeOAqCewqHC_A0Mxi5B4I82KWqCzBFMPv4/s640/blogger-image-1323403517.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A random church I found when I was wandering/got lost in Almaty one day. By the way it's all wood. Apparently it's the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ascension_Cathedral,_Almaty" target="_blank">second tallest wooden building in the world??</a></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0Almaty, Kazakhstan43.255058 76.91262800000004142.885051 76.267181000000036 43.625065 77.558075000000045tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-4048565197261440502014-02-24T16:39:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:22:45.411+05:00Is 4 meters enough?My quest of late has been trying to become a real person in life. The list is long, and surprisingly more difficult than you'd imagine, especially when you're living la vida broke. I wanted to share with you the recent things I've accomplished (no small victories, I assure you) and some of those goals still on my list.<br />
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<b>Recent Successes </b></div>
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<b>1) Bought a shower curtain. </b>I guess this is technically a "kind of" success. I should start by saying that there are a number of bazaars in the city and a number of them way the heck outside the city. Well I did not find a shower curtain at the bazaar five minutes from my house, nor at the bazaar five minutes from my work. This meant that I had to go to one of the dreaded bazaars way outside the city. Horrible. So I finally managed to get to one and I found shower curtains. </div>
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I remember arguing with myself beforehand and saying "you should measure, just so you make sure you don't get something too short." But that entailed a whole other issue-- what the heck was I going to measure with?! So I gauged it up and the salesmen at the bazaar proceeded to tell me that this shower curtain bar (you know the thing that holds up the curtain) goes up to 4 meters! Okay. Sure. Sounds like enough to me. </div>
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Except it wasn't. Or rather it was too much. Turns out my shower must be incredibly undersized because I had up beat the bar into place with my fancy tool (the "hand hammer") and even now it's slightly askew and immovable one way or the other. </div>
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At least now I'm not spraying water all over the bathroom when I shower...?<br />
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<b>2) A Pasta Strainer. </b>Easily one of the most overlooked things in life, I'd say. The amount of times I actually burned my hands attempting to figure out a way to strain my pasta is a little inexplicable (and embarassing). After all, you know what they say: "you don't need to reinvent the wheel".</div>
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Anyways imagine trying to explain a strainer at the bazaar/store when you don't know said word. "Yeah it's that thing that I can use to pour pasta into and then the pasta stays but the water leaks out... This thing." Well it worked after multiple attempts but I don't chalk this up to a linguistic win.</div>
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<b>3) A cutting board. </b>Cutting stuff on the counter was beginning to skeeve me out. This was totally a necessary purchase from day one but money matters make you prioritize. </div>
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<b>4) Some Healthier Things. </b>Like bananas. And yogurt. This was more of me being lazy than anything else...</div>
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<b>5) A Real Knife. </b>And what a difference it made. By real knife, I of course am not referring to those ridiculous things my mother has in our kitchen (they can cut anything if you just slightly put any pressure on them), but rather something in between a butter knife and my mother's shiny kitchenware.</div>
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<b>6) "Toilet Bowl Gel". </b>That lemony scent is from my toilet, because every time you flush (yes, it's working again) water travels into this strange conception which houses this strange, scenty gel. There's a hazard warning in Russian with a picture of a face (including the nose) and I'm hoping that this is in fact warning of ingestion and not smelling the stuff. </div>
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<b>Eventual Acquisitions</b></div>
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<b> 1) A Garlic Press. </b>One can only mince so many gloves of garlic before one loses their mind. I'm rapidly approaching that number.</div>
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Obviously life without garlic isn't an answer.</div>
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<b>2) Hot Pads. </b>Or whatever those things are called that let you hold hot handles of pots. Seriously I'm going to have asbestos-hands in a month at this rate. Even typing this blog posts is hurting my burns!! </div>
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<b>3) Dish Drying Towels. </b>Air drying is an option but you still need something to air dry dishes on. Remember my counter is skeeving me out so...</div>
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<b>4) Shower Mat. </b>My bathroom floor is a continuously dangerous hazard as it is constantly wet from me exiting the shower. </div>
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<b>5) A Well-Stocked Fridge. </b>Just kidding. This is a total pipe dream.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-91513859790711820502014-02-18T11:23:00.003+05:002014-04-02T10:22:45.414+05:00The Snickers ShortageMAYHEM! PANIC! HORROR IN THE STREETS OF DUSHANBE!<br />
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It all started last week when I went to get a Snickers. As many of my Dushanbe friends already know, Snickers is part of my insanely healthy diet in Tajikistan. Often times, it provides me my only nutrition for the day (forgetting to eat happens to me more than you'd believe...). Well imagine my surprise when I went to my local store and they had no Snickers. This place usually has a full wall of the stuff-- now; zero! What the heck?!<br />
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So then I go to another store maybe the next day and again; no Snickers. So I confront the store owner (it was a much smaller/family operated store) and he seemed to have mentioned something about one of the suppliers no longer bringing them in. Now, I wasn't so sure I understood so I just chalked it up as inconvenience... well that is until yesterday.<br />
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Yesterday I visited yet another store and found, to my dismay, a lack of Snickers. I again confronted the shop owner and she again confirmed the story. It seems that a local supplier has pulled out of Dushanbe/stopped carrying Snickers. All of the store owners seem to think a new supplier is coming, but I'm in a panic!<br />
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Apparently this supplier was also the *ONLY* guy who had Americans interest in mind, because he was also importing the large waters of water WITHOUT GAS. I AM BEING FORCED TO CONSUME WATER WITH GAS.<br />
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And for the record, man, that stuff is not water. It's got a weird flavor and it's so.... undrinkable. Good news is you can still cook pasta with it, but it's still like. Man. Snickers & water are definitely part of my food trifecta in Dushanbe (Indian food, of course, being the last part of that group).<br />
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I'll update you on the snickers/water situation as soon as I find out more.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-37062525007402170402014-02-14T14:57:00.000+05:002014-03-28T12:12:25.233+05:00Livin' La Vida BrokeI figure I need to get this blog post out before my bank account has something more than $4 in it (thanks mom!) so I wanted to dedicate this post to livin' the broke life in Dushanbe (which has been my last week or so).<br />
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1) <b><i>Mumkin ast?</i> (Is it possible) </b>This is what you will find yourself asking while simultaneously apologizing as you hand your poor marshrutka driver thirty 10-diram (think cents) coins. </div>
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2) <b>Take your bubblegum and put it where... err. </b>Common practice in Tajik stores (and I mean little family shops, medium sized stores, and chain supermarkets) is to give bubblegum sticks or teabags as change. So for example if my bill is 4 somoni and 70 diram, giving a 5 somoni bill will result in a stuck of bubblegum for change. Needless to say, I've had to pester the cashiers at a few stores for my dirams instead of bubblegum.</div>
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3) <b><i>Hey bacha, diram te!</i> (Hey kid, give me my diram!) </b>As previously discussed, all buses in Dushanbe are equipped with a small Tajik boy (<a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2013/07/surviving-in-dushanbe-guide-to.html" target="_blank">#8 in the 'Getting Around...' section</a>). The price for buses is technically 60 diram, but everyone pays 1 somoni usually. You can usually get your 40 diram from the bus-bacha if you tell him to give it you though.<br />
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4) <b>So, bread definitely covers all of the categories in the food pyramid right? </b>One large loaf of bread can last you for two and a half dinners and it is only 4 somoni!</div>
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5) <b>The Russian Cafe is your best friend. </b>Located near the place where I used to study, the Russian cafe offers you two fantastic things. A bazillion Tajiks who do not know how to form a line (I successfully told off a young student who tried to cut me yesterday to be with his friends, by the way) and a plate full of rice, french fries and some mysterious (yet tasty) sauce for only 4 somoni. Lunch = win!</div>
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6) <b>So you have frequent flier discounts, right? "</b>Please Mr. Works-out-too-much-and-has-no-neck bouncer at People's Club, I'm here so often! Let me skip the cover just this one time..." but seriously, nice guy.<br />
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7) <b>So you won't sell me just one roll of the nice stuff? </b>I don't want to have to buy the individual rolls because they look (and feel) like <a href="http://www.blazingentertainment.com/images/streamershot.jpg" target="_blank">this</a>, but if you won't let me take just one roll of the nicer stuff...<br />
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8) <b>Well Mr. Repairman, you see... </b>I would like you to fix my toilet, but right now it's just not in the funds. I'll keep <a href="http://homeguides.sfgate.com/flush-toilet-using-bucket-water-24695.html" target="_blank">old-school flushing</a> it. (But actually check out that link. How absurdly detailed is that? Haha)<br />
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And that's all for now.<br />
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P.S. Go Team USA! </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-22492087355886341352014-02-10T11:54:00.001+05:002014-03-28T12:14:25.506+05:00No water, no problemBelieve it or not, there are benefits to having no water and not being able to shower.<br />
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1) <b>Perfection of the "fix your hair with your spit" method.</b> Sorry ladies, you're SOL on this one. </div>
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2) <b>If you smell bad, don't worry too much.</b> Everyone else is going through the same thing in the city, and it's an unspoken acceptance. Sitting in a marshrutka and you can visibly see people's discomfort from your bodily odor? They just nod; they know what's up.<br />
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3) <b>The "college" shower.</b> While perhaps not as *ahem* hygienic as it's much more common counterpart, the college shower does give one an opportunity to smell like a baby's butt (and who doesn't like that smell?!). For those of you unsure, a college shower involves taking a handful of baby wipes and using them to pat down your body. Pay extra attention to the goods!</div>
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4) <b>Becoming more water-conservative</b>. I can confidently say that I am now capable of brushing my teeth WITHOUT water. You're welcome planet Earth!</div>
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5) <b>Sleeping in later. </b>Duh. If I can't shower I can wait until the ---last--- possible time to wake up and make it to work. This is undoubtedly a win for everyone (except my fellow commuters in my 67 marshrutka, but again number 2).</div>
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6) <b>Becoming more comfortable with your friends.</b> Tasi recently came up with a term that we will now employ as a group of friends; the Dush-a-palooza*. The name is so multifaceted, I really can't contain my excitement. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So anyways we all shower at someone's house who has working water, and it's just a great bonding experience all around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">*Disclaimer: think of Dush here as shower, because that's how it's said in a lot of other languages.</span></div>
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7) <b>Saving on your water bill?</b> Yeah! Oh wait I don't pay that...</div>
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There are certainly a number of disadvantages, number one of course being forced to number two (that was confusing) at work. But, alas. The benefits! </div>
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P.S. New blog about life in Dushanbe has been added to the side bar and I recommend reading it! </div>
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(Over here ------->) </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-60552180097533047582014-02-05T16:01:00.002+05:002014-04-02T10:24:06.260+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 3": Three Inches of Snow in DushanbeRead part 1 <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-1-kyiv.html" target="_blank">here</a> and part 2 <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-2-lviv.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Totally fascinating reads, I promise. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><br />
<br />
Part 3" begins in Dushanbe with the thirteenth chapter of my Tajik visa drama. The details are largely unimportant because, whatever, but this chapter ends with me having to leave the Tajik borders and travel to another Tajik consulate/embassy to get a visa. The easiest/most obvious choice for an American is Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan because, well, no visa... but the Tajik government said that I can't get a visa from there right now, for <a href="http://www.eurasianet.org/node/67953" target="_blank">whatever reason</a>. So, the next few choices were Dubai, Istanbul, or Almaty (Kazakhstan).<br />
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<b>Kazakhstan? Why Not!</b><br />
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Getting a visa to Kazakhstan was the next big hoop I had to jump through. Luckily there is a Kazakh embassy in Dushanbe, and thanks to some knowledgeable friends I found the embassy pretty painlessly.<br />
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Unfortunately, the embassy operates on an apparently very strict schedule. They accept documents only on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays from 9am until 12pm, and then give visas on the same days from 3pm to 5pm. I of course arrived at the Kazakh embassy with all necessary documents on a Tuesday at 3pm where they politely told me I could wait until Thursday morning to submit my documents, and it would then take 3-5 working days to provide the visa if my application was accepted.<br />
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So, keep in mind that if I wanted to not stay in Tajikistan illegally I pretty much had to fly out on the following Monday (six days away). Obviously I was a little concerned about this Kazakh visa process. The following Thursday morning I arrived and luckily there was a consular officer there who spoke some (but not really all that much) English. I explained to him the situation and asked if there was anyway I could get the visa by Friday (the next day). He said he would try his best, and with that told me to return Friday morning.<br />
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On Friday morning, to my pleasant surprise, the same gentlemen let me know that I could get my visa that day so long as I went and paid the visa/consular fee at the Kazakh bank. After some searching, I found the bank, paid it off, and got my visa as soon as I returned to the Kazakh embassy. I was feeling pretty excited, but deep down I knew that it went a little too smoothly...<br />
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<b>3" of Snow and OH DEAR SHUT DOWN THE CITY</b><br />
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Yeah, not really exaggerating on this one. 3", maybe a little more, shut down the city entirely. Taxis stopped running, Rudaki Avenue (the m<span style="font-family: inherit;">ain street of the city) was essentially empty, and of course the airport was closed. This next part is going to sou</span>nd awfully familiar (or identical, haha) to my grandma and mother-- so you guys can glaze over this part if you like...<br />
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<b>The Airport Fiasco</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Stressful does not begin to describe Monday morning. As you might suspect, the internet was pretty miserable at updating the status flights in Dushanbe. The flight status literally said the flight would be on-time for the entire day, and in the morning after watching the Super Bowl I decided to head to the airport. I was 99.99% sure we weren't flying out, but I called Somon Air and they said the flight was on although though the airport wasn't opening until 10am. *roll eyes*</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I made it to the airport after some surprising difficulty-- usually one of the major marshrutka routes runs there, but the snow came down in Dushanbe and I guess no one wanted to drive the entire route. There was literally two hundred Tajiks all crammed into the super small pre-security area of the airport and there was no official staff anywhere-- just police. They made an announcement about the Moscow and Almaty flights still being on while canceling a bunch. So I was freezing my butt off thinking "how long am I going to end up waiting here?" when not five minutes later they make another announcement, in which they literally list every flight scheduled for the day (10-12?) and delay them all until 1:00pm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At this point it's maybe 9:30 in the morning and I'm pretty positive my toes are frostbitten because my socks got wet on the journey to the airport. I decided to head home. Current/former roommate who I took the apartment from had a scheduled flight that morning that obviously didn't leave, so we went for breakfast. I probably called Somon Air 20 or so times asking for updates and they literally kept telling me that it was on time and departing at 10:40am. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Eventually a friend of ours came and I asked her to call them for me, and she got all super-in-your-face Russian with them and it turns out my flight was rescheduled for 2:15pm and check-in was happening at the moment. So I ran back to the apartment, grabbed my stuff and commandeered a taxi to the airport, only to find the same two hundred wet smelly Tajiks crowding the ONLY entry point into the maybe five check-in counters. Obviously they are only letting people on certain flights through but that wasn't stopping everyone from crowding this teeny entry point and preventing the rest of us from entering.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After some legitimate elbow throwing on my part, I made it close enough to yell to the security guard and ask him if the Almaty flight was allowed through. It was kind of epic because all these Tajiks that were super talkative and completely surrounding me kind of shut up and were like "white guy speaks Tajik?!". Then I got a 'da' from the security guard and parted those Tajiks like I was Moses and they were the Red Sea.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We then sat on the runway for another two hours and that kind of sucked but whatever at least we took off. Flight was actually smooth too! I made it to Almaty much later than I had hoped, and unfortunately the Tajik consulate in Almaty had closed already. My initial plan was to head over as soon as I landed to get the ball rolling (again, Tajik visa drama lesson #1-10) but it would have to wait until the next morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next stop in the post-soviet chronicles: Almaty! </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-85728420559159802052014-02-05T15:35:00.003+05:002014-04-02T10:25:14.995+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 2: Lviv, Ukraine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKOXHm9HQt-9noIEqXUutmMNmMQGhgiqut9khS16rDzO1iql_yWdTc8jGarEdXGkl6iEj-3GJsX8RKt7iC0VXJP1UFg8BT47qhr2An3FDpf2YFP5ocA9doDsiuYLzQw0mHKX2d-zNb3Bo/s1600/sauron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKOXHm9HQt-9noIEqXUutmMNmMQGhgiqut9khS16rDzO1iql_yWdTc8jGarEdXGkl6iEj-3GJsX8RKt7iC0VXJP1UFg8BT47qhr2An3FDpf2YFP5ocA9doDsiuYLzQw0mHKX2d-zNb3Bo/s1600/sauron.jpg" height="206" width="320" /></a></div>
Check out <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-post-soviet-chronicles-part-1-kyiv.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a> here!<br />
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<b>Pronouncing Lviv</b></div>
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Look, I know what you're thinking. L and v are two consonants, and there must be a vowel in between them. Otherwise what the heck is that sound?! Slavic language 101: they will make the strangest and most impossible combinations of consonants ALL THE TIME. What I find so strange is that the way they pronounce Lv sounds as if you're saying the word "live" (as in "live, damn you! live!") but as short as you possible can. So remind me again why there's no vowel there? <i>Liv</i> is really how we should transliterate that but whatever....</div>
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Now the most confusing part is that Lviv is not pronounced "Liv-eve", but it is actually pronounced "Liv-ohv". Now take a second to wrap your head around that one. Whatttttt?</div>
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So now that we know how to pronounce Livohv, let's talk about getting there.<br />
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<b>A Train Ticket Please</b></div>
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Oh boy. Your first step in getting to this magical Lviv/Livohv place is getting a train ticket. So, your mission is to use hand gestures and horrible broken Russian to determine the following:</div>
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1) When the trains depart to Lviv/Livohv;</div>
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2) When the trains arrive in Lviv/Livohv;</div>
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3) How much the train tickets cost;</div>
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4) Which class you would like to ride in.</div>
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Now you have somehow managed to struggle your way through purchasing a train ticket (which are actually pretty cheap, maybe ~14 USD) and you're probably pretty excited. You've never gone on an overnight train before; this could be awesome fun! Except when I say "overnight" I mean that you leave at around 3pm one day and arrive around 1am the next day. Because those are certainly the best times for a train to operate, right?</div>
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And then you find yourself on this train. And you discover that each 'cabin' has four bunks. Two at knee-height and two more above. And you discover that you are on the top bunk. And then you discover that no, there is no ladder or reasonable way to climb up to this top bunk. You instantly regret not taking advantage of those <a href="http://students.sras.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/1002410_668177429875277_40524500_n-1.jpg" target="_blank">soviet-era neighborhood pull-up bars</a> as you attempt to ascend to the top bunk. You manage to spill all of your chips (your only meal for the next 13 hours) on the floor while simultaneously being unable to apologize or explain yourself to anyone in your cabin. </div>
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This is of course hypothetical, and it certainly <b>did not</b> happen to me. Just an example of what could happen.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7XRI0sDC04C7CTlqSK1DhjsTbSR9ZKB8hUlxQ_TUwnvK4RCcpUyzfmHOT_ImMI-O_dPwD7OOlYgnjNMpMu1-LQqENTLD_vacqbwf-oVJNHy9xY2VoSPdh0pLTWv7ma28k7FGT46G4NQ/s1600/trains+dho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7XRI0sDC04C7CTlqSK1DhjsTbSR9ZKB8hUlxQ_TUwnvK4RCcpUyzfmHOT_ImMI-O_dPwD7OOlYgnjNMpMu1-LQqENTLD_vacqbwf-oVJNHy9xY2VoSPdh0pLTWv7ma28k7FGT46G4NQ/s1600/trains+dho.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The train on the way back to Kyiv had SIX beds in a cabin!</td></tr>
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The best part about the train ride is either the size of the bunk bed or the general stability emanating from the train. No matter how you lay in the bunk, your feet manage to somehow dangle out in the most awkward way while someone walks by and bumps into them. Talk about an unpleasant experience if your <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=podophobia" target="_blank">podophobic</a>. Now the worst part is, if you can finally find a position in which you are comfortable you finally realize just how much the train is swaying back in forth. </div>
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Look, I drive a lot of long distances, and I've flown a fair amount, but I have never ever ever thought I was going to motion sick until that moment. Holyyyyy crappppp. Even when you're finally off the train you feel like you're still on it for the next day or so. I'll admit that a lack of sleep and substantial food probably contributed to this, but nonetheless </div>
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Now finally, the journey ends when a lady comes and screams at you in Russian (or Ukrainian) about it being your stop. You, of course, understand nothing but for some reason decide to ask the question "shto?" (which means what?) as if somehow her repeating herself is going to make you understand better. Nope. Just as clueless the second time. </div>
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<b>The Origin of Sauron from The Lord of the Rings</b></div>
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I don't know, you tell me...<br />
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Sauron:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKOXHm9HQt-9noIEqXUutmMNmMQGhgiqut9khS16rDzO1iql_yWdTc8jGarEdXGkl6iEj-3GJsX8RKt7iC0VXJP1UFg8BT47qhr2An3FDpf2YFP5ocA9doDsiuYLzQw0mHKX2d-zNb3Bo/s1600/sauron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKOXHm9HQt-9noIEqXUutmMNmMQGhgiqut9khS16rDzO1iql_yWdTc8jGarEdXGkl6iEj-3GJsX8RKt7iC0VXJP1UFg8BT47qhr2An3FDpf2YFP5ocA9doDsiuYLzQw0mHKX2d-zNb3Bo/s1600/sauron.jpg" height="206" width="320" /></a></div>
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The arsenal in Lviv:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBi1bKOmH2vjKa84GXz_6eSETR1VWVRhz7YzSIH8dyhny0D9bVWwLaFaRhEmAuKZcxWpumXoGuDjdgGcwjDtnbbhDdWw_ldwUqJCSVmOy2g5oNL7IdeCXOYyYH02Vpz1QnwGXtGij5evc/s1600/arsenal+gloves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBi1bKOmH2vjKa84GXz_6eSETR1VWVRhz7YzSIH8dyhny0D9bVWwLaFaRhEmAuKZcxWpumXoGuDjdgGcwjDtnbbhDdWw_ldwUqJCSVmOy2g5oNL7IdeCXOYyYH02Vpz1QnwGXtGij5evc/s1600/arsenal+gloves.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Okay maybe not, but I am not convinced one way or the other.</div>
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<b>Germany or Ukraine?</b></div>
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I guess it is common knowledge that Lviv had some major architectual influences from Germans, and it is super obvious too. A lot of the streets and the buildings look very European to begin with, but they look especially German. I remember walking through certain parts of the city and being very certain I was back in Frankfurt or something.</div>
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Anyways Lviv had a lot of cool old churches and stuff, but ultimately I found the city kind of boring. I am sure it is much better in the summer, and we also didn't do all that much. We did manage to find a confederate biker's club in an alley somewhere, though regretfully we didn't decide to enter...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Da. Let's go!</td></tr>
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<b>More Random Pictures of Borscht</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I must have been shaking from excitement when I took this picture</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmm. Borscht.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Didn't actually order this one, but it looks so good I had to include it!</td></tr>
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Part 3 is up next, and it will mostly cover my short time in Dushanbe and fun trying to get out of the city!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-48093728817605757852014-02-05T14:49:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:26:06.438+05:00The Post-Soviet Chronicles Part 1: Kyiv, UkraineI have been atrociously bad at blogging these last few months, and so I made a late New Year's Revolution (read: I'm bored in my hotel room in Almaty) to blog more for you all. I decided to start with a series on my recent Post-Soviet travels to Ukraine and Kazakhstan, with some fun Tajikistan adventures in the middle. And so, without further adieu, part one...<br />
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<b>Kyiv, not Kiev-- if you've got some free time, <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/kiev-or-kyiv-2014-1" target="_blank">this</a> is a great read</b><br />
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Ukraine is cold. The temperature says one thing (4-5 degrees farenheiht maybe) but your body tells you something completely different. BITING cold. Wow it was chilly. Super icey and snowy too. It's no wonder Ukrainian people were not very nice-- how could they be when they have to *live* in that cold.</div>
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But seriously Ukraine was interesting. My non-existing Russian moved slightly closer to being existent and I navigated the metro system all on my own once (yay for metros being pretty much the same worldwide!). "Hryvnia" is the currency in Ukraine, and before you even try to pronounce it let me tell you it's pronounced completely differently. Ready? "Greev-na". What?! Anyways the exchange rate was about 1 USD to 8.5 Greevna and prices were generally pretty low. The stuff also looked/felt like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:UkrainePNew-50Hryven-2004-donatedoy_f.jpg" target="_blank">monopoly money</a>. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the world's deepest metro's at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arsenalna_(Kiev_Metro)" target="_blank">Arsenalna Station</a> in Kyiv<br />
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Overall I ate a lot of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borscht" target="_blank">borscht</a> because it's probably the best food ever. If you're not sure, it's basically a beet and chicken-broth based pot-luck soup. And it's delicious. Traditionally it's served with a dallop of sour-cream like stuff (smetana). Totally gonna learn to cook this stuff (or that's my intent anyways) so that I can eat it all the time.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Borscht in a Kyiv bar, served in a dark rye bread bowl, because why not?</td></tr>
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The protest square in Kyiv was really cool to see. Many of you have probably seen the pictures I've put up on Facebook, but basically when I arrived the movement was really "occupy Wall Street"esque. Lots of makeshift tents, people just chilling, music conferences and occasionally random marches. Obviously things have gotten much more intense since then. The first day I arrived we want and stayed until about 10pm, then that night the first deaths occurred and it got a whole lot more real after that.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey tents in the middle of a square!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What was supposed to be a festive "holiday tree" turned into an iconic symbol of the protests. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No idea, but note the life-size chess on the left side. COOL.</td></tr>
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So there's Kyiv in a nutshell. Tune in for the next edition of the post-soviet chronicles; Lviv, Ukraine! </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-69558570422329564242013-10-05T21:20:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:28:30.643+05:00Have you ever actually seen/eaten a pomegranate?Didn't think so.<br />
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The whole conversation started when I was at Baha's house for his birthday on Wednesday. On the table was a fruit I hadn't seen before. It almost looked like a red onion. I asked what it was, and as usual, the only word they could muster up was the Russian word.</div>
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Which of course was a Russianized pronounciation of grenade.</div>
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Grenade. Well I can't use a translator for that!</div>
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So eventually I got Baha to cut one open and it turns out it's the strangest fruit I've ever seen in my life. Super tasty, yes. But weird.</div>
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Take a look:</div>
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The inside walls of the fruit are lined with squishy red kernels (yes, like corn kernel). You pick them out and eat them. I wasn't sure if there were seeds, because the inside was a little hard but it would literally dissolve in your mouth relatively fast.</div>
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Anyways. First experience with a pomegranate. Maybe I'm the only person who didn't know they were like this- you can mock me if this is the case.</div>
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Otherwise I'm sure you're dying to know the Persian word for pomegranate, so I'll stop torturing you. </div>
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It's <i>anar</i>.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-76791013278731522102013-09-27T14:15:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:27:37.099+05:00This Assembly is Boring<div>
*First things first, sorry for the delay in posting. </div>
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You know what's funny? Realizing how boring assemblies are for teachers. HOLY CRAP! Especially assemblies at 2pm on Friday... an hour before the school day ends... bad idea much?<br />
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Anyways I just listened to the deputy director yell at all the students for cell phone usage, and then as he steps off stage makes a phone call... oops!</div>
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(To be fair I'm sitting here blogging... My excuse is that the announcement was made in Tajik)</div>
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I've had to take a stricter approach with my students this last week. They kind of never like to pay attention. So I instituted new rules, taught them about baseball (three strikes and you're out!) and it's going a little better.<br />
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Work culture is also super different here. Maybe I was a bit spoiled working for a family business for so long, but the relationship that coworkers have here is very different. That's going to take some getting used to.</div>
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The good news is that I don't think my students hate me (yet). We'll see how my baseball rules go over the next few weeks though, lol.</div>
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Tomorrow I'm laying my first trail for the Hash, so I'm really excited/nervous for that. Speaking of the hash, here's an awesome pic from last weeks trail:</div>
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The iPhone really doesn't capture the depth of the mountains very well, or of the valley, but it really was quite an awesome sight.</div>
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Also this assembly just turned into poetry reciting competition. Awesome.</div>
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So unfortunately this weekend is my friend Anna's last weekend. Kind of bummer. But that means it'll be a fun weekend!</div>
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I think I'll stop rambling now... Go Bears and Go Hawks! </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-71228896392487992662013-09-18T18:04:00.002+05:002014-04-02T10:28:17.146+05:00Worse Stove: Dushanbe or College?Aaaaaanddddd let the debate begin!<br />
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When I was living with my roommates in college, I often complained about how bad our stove was (seriously, 15 minutes to boil a pot of water NOT EXAGGERATING). But now I may have met an even worse enemy: an electric stove in Tajikistan.<br />
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Now, many of problems may just because it's electric (seriously, how you make an incompetent cook more incompetent reason #2: give him an electric stove when he's used to a gas stove) but oh boy.<br />
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Here was the plan: roast some garlic/oil in a pan, throw in pasta sauce after roasting and heat the sauce up a little.<br />
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Here is how it went down: throw some garlic in a pan. Wait FOREVER while it was on low setting. Garlic doesn't roast. Turn up to the medium setting. BOOM GARLIC IS ROASTING AND BURNING. Okay. So then it's like. I know I can't add the sauce to the pan while it's this hot... so I turned off the burner and moved the pot off it for a few minutes. Finally think it's cool enough to add the sauce, and I do, and then it's like. Instantly burned sauce. Awesome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgI2v7jnDE19TWsWtdqdSDQuxIvutxh8SP8NUfIbxSirwhOMryLDZ5ctduSt-b5CwF5dG328Ck34d42tNcScEa7gazGC5R31CRK3cKgbpD9SPlrb0cAkP89H7ha9W2DN0kWCacNY2w50/s1600/Sep+18,+2013+5:59:48+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgI2v7jnDE19TWsWtdqdSDQuxIvutxh8SP8NUfIbxSirwhOMryLDZ5ctduSt-b5CwF5dG328Ck34d42tNcScEa7gazGC5R31CRK3cKgbpD9SPlrb0cAkP89H7ha9W2DN0kWCacNY2w50/s320/Sep+18,+2013+5:59:48+PM.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's that electric-tea-pot-kettle-thing!<br />
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Then the pasta. The pasta actually didn't go so bad (woo!) but it did take quite awhile for the water to boil. I have one of those electric-tea-kettle-things, so in the future I might do half electric tea pot water and half straight from my water cooler.<br />
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At the end of the day I end up with this pretty perfectly done pasta and miserable sauce. Actually I'm still not convinced it's sauce, but I took one of my Russian speaking friends to the store and they assure me it's pasta sauce... not buying it. It also has a bit of a burnt flavor. Weird.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1U1FgVJQbMlpwXbL8V4jVwv9uPTfHVxbSEeAEUdDVTW_e-65gHYxgq5Uie9mMui4C2srTlhGjZp0f7CMs1HPDZiqf58d3AGMHcIL8JkAGivQFZ0ZespEWMw0A-qChyphenhyphen7X3Mkq9hoSC5aI/s1600/Sep+18,+2013+5:57:58+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1U1FgVJQbMlpwXbL8V4jVwv9uPTfHVxbSEeAEUdDVTW_e-65gHYxgq5Uie9mMui4C2srTlhGjZp0f7CMs1HPDZiqf58d3AGMHcIL8JkAGivQFZ0ZespEWMw0A-qChyphenhyphen7X3Mkq9hoSC5aI/s320/Sep+18,+2013+5:57:58+PM.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Tomatnaya Pasta" doesn't in fact appear to be Tomato Pasta </td></tr>
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I think the MOTS (<b>m</b>oral <b>o</b>f <b>t</b>he <b>s</b>tory*) here is that I should find a new Russian speaking friend and maybe learn how to make cold things. Using the stove is scary. And the oven also concerns me... There's actually no temperature or setting indicator. I have three options: what appears to be the top half of the oven, the bottom half of the oven, and the entire over. Hmm...<br />
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Anyone have any good recipes for homemade Italian dressing?<br />
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On a positive note I did manage to find cheddar cheese (which ACTUALLY tastes pretty good)-- now the issue is finding bread that is good for grilled cheese (shout out to FeelGood!). I also successfully made iced (okay not iced... cold) tea. I know you're thinking "But, really how do you mess that up?" A victory is a victory, my friends. However small.<br />
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*MOTS is an internet acronym that I would like to popularize. I know it's awesome. So you're welcome.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh804twMyU-Zl2ehxIn0xR5-vYfIDSevMYAu0iK-rGBsAAijypr5VpPq06IhHkWkRQmF_PGZrWdcUiDaw4oYmaYLK22TNdOBankf5qoWz6CLkNcFYAB0hQM2SV4cJlEbBVf50wvEhyKNSw/s1600/Sep+18,+2013+6:04:07+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh804twMyU-Zl2ehxIn0xR5-vYfIDSevMYAu0iK-rGBsAAijypr5VpPq06IhHkWkRQmF_PGZrWdcUiDaw4oYmaYLK22TNdOBankf5qoWz6CLkNcFYAB0hQM2SV4cJlEbBVf50wvEhyKNSw/s320/Sep+18,+2013+6:04:07+PM.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I only knew it was cheddar because it said so in English. So what!?</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-52013650070933632942013-09-17T14:12:00.000+05:002013-09-17T14:12:00.321+05:00A blog to read!Check out the new blog on the right --><br />
<br />
Emily (who I have taken Persian at Pitt with for the last three years) is a pretty funny blogger and you should enjoy it.<br />
<br />
If you're too lazy to click the link on the right, click <a href="http://daytodayindushanbe.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">this one</a>!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-288182312945079012013-09-16T11:43:00.000+05:002014-04-02T10:28:52.197+05:00Social Life Update #1Well it was off to a bit of a slow start (I slept A LOT when I first got here), but I've finally started going out and meeting up with friends in the city.<br />
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Unfortunately I'm a little bit out of the city, and so sometimes late at night it can be expensive (okay... Tajik expensive) to get back to my place. And by late I mean Tajik late, which is like 9pm.<br />
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Last night one of the employees who works in the international relations office (Qosimjon) invited me to try 'kebab Khujandi' with him. Khujand is the northern province in the country (where he is from) and apparently they have their own unique food. So after a bit of a commute to the completely opposite side of the city, we found ourselves at a nice little restaurant and ordered up some Khujand Kebabs.<br />
<br />
I would say they weren't horrible... but I'm not ever sure I'm going to like fatty meat as much as the Tajiks. The kebab was basically a ground beef + onion shish kebab (for my readers who know Iranian food think kebab khoobideh-esque) and a lot of chunks of fat. It had a good taste but, seriously, I was pulling that stuff out of my mouth every bite. Qosimjon said next time I can ask them to put less fat in...<br />
<br />
Anyways, it's actually a lot of fun to hang out with him (and some other people here) because their English is pretty good. Our conversations are really interesting (and useful?) because we pretty regularly switch between English and Tajik. It's like one second we're explaining something in Tajik and then the next we're saying the other half in English.<br />
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Saturday I met a bunch of Brits (among others) and had a really fantastic time hanging out with them. They're all learning Persian here for a month and it will be fun to hang out with them and help them practice their language.<br />
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I'm kind of just rambling now so I'll stop there. Nothing too funny to report today (sorrrrrrry). Also did you all notice how many parenthesis I used in this post? No idea why, lol.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-50518191564448115642013-09-16T11:32:00.003+05:002014-04-02T10:29:14.582+05:00Finally working!Well, it took some time but I finally got a schedule! My schedule is kind of all over the place, but for the most part I teach 'business studies' in the morning and lead a discussion class in the afternoons. My students are all 9th, 10th, and 11th graders, which is nice because I'm not so sure I could handle little kids and 'business studies'.<br />
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Each grade is divided into 3-4 groups based on ability. So for example 9A is the best group of English speakers in 9th grade, 9B is second best, and so on. What I found surprising was I only see each group one "academic hour" (that's 45 minutes) a week for discussion and one hour a week for 'business studies'. For discussion that's not a huge deal, but teaching kids econ/business studies once a week for 45 minutes?! Haha. I'll do my best!<br />
<br />
I'm really excited to finally get started, and I do think my discussion classes will be a lot of fun. Everyone here has been really nice and accommodating (still) so that's also a major plus. The students are also visibly excited to have a native English speaker for a teacher, so that also makes me feel good.<br />
<br />
Number one step for me is to focus on talking slower... we all know that is NOT my specialty.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-36675912639879376012013-09-12T17:42:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:29:49.411+05:00I Might Be Eating Russian Ramen for the Foreseeable FutureYeah so we know I'm not the best cook in the world. Couple that with being in this country and I may be in more trouble than I thought!<br />
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I went shopping today. The major plus was that the people at the checkout line really loved my reusable Chicago Cubs' bags (thanks mom!). The major minus was... well a lot!</div>
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You know what makes a bad chef worse? Having to read names of things or instructions in a language you don't understand (by the way that's Russian, in case you haven't read any of my other blogs).</div>
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So this should be fun. I managed to purchase a lot of pasta only to realize I have no idea what I'm going to put on top of it. Is tomato paste the same as pasta sauce? Because the pasta sauce I found was OUT OF THIS WORLD expensive. </div>
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So the good news is I can buy a bunch of Russian knock-off Ramen-ish noodles for like under a dollar each. I'll let you know how those taste when I manage to figure out how to make them.</div>
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I know I've been a bad blogger, as this is my first post since arriving Monday, but I can assure you the only thing I've done is sleep and run around the city in an attempt to get my in-country registration complete.</div>
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Hopefully I can figure this food thing out soon. Maybe I'll ask one of the Iranians I know here to teach me how to cook Iranian food! </div>
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(I don't think I'll be asking my Tajik friends, no offense!)</div>
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Anyways. Aside from my inability to cook, everything is going really well. The people in the international office who I have been working with are fantastic, and I can't wait to finally get started!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com3Dushanbe Dushanbe38.572167 68.788918tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-52800411204149915842013-08-06T19:31:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:31:05.111+05:00Going home? Here's the 'to-do' list<div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Appropriate blog posts when you're T-48 hours Stateside? Talk about the things I'm most excited for back in the US. It also takes extra special meaning when I only have a month to enjoy! This post is far from complaints- I really do like it here in Tajikistan- but there are some things you just can't get here!</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Food</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Food deserves a separate heading because, well, I'm a fat kid. If you're uninterested in reading about what I'll be dining on when I get home, you can also conveniently skip over this section.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">1) Portillo's</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I'm sure this comes as no surprise. And really there's not much to be said here.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">2) Pizza </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Duh.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">3) Deep Dish </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Duh.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">4) Spicy giardinaira</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Hordes of it. I will put it on everything. Seriously. Everything. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">5) Chipotle</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Extra carnitas, please. Can I get bacon with that too?</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">6) BACON!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Tajikistan is a majority Muslim country. 'Nuff said! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">7) Taco Bell</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I'm not really why but I've been really craving TBell. It seems awfully strange, especially because you might think I've had all the 'mystery meat' I could handle in the past two months... but, alas. I'll take the taco box.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">8) McDonald's Sweet Tea and Apple Pie</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Say what you want, but it's genetically engineered to taste perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">9) Starbuck's cake pops (and a dirty iced vanilla chai tea latte)</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Because coffee is 'instant' and all cakes are dry in Tajikistan (<a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2012/07/all-cake-in-tajikistan-is-dry.html?m=0" target="_blank">remember?</a>).</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">10) This:</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Beer</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-The local beer isn't cutting it anymore. (Was it ever?)</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Inside the House</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">1) Drink from the faucet</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I don't even do this usually but the chance to drink water that <i>doesn't</i> make me sick sounds too good to be true.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">2) Water pressure</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Do you want to know how to make showers less enjoyable? Make the water pressure super low.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">3) Water that doesn't smell like Tajikistan</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-It's really not a negative that the water here smells like Tajikistan. It's just how it works. But seriously? I'd like to get out of the shower and not smell like TJ. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">4) Eat a meal in peace</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I'm not trying to banish all conversation at the dinner table... but if I could just have ONE MEAL where no one asks me if I want more, questions why I didn't eat three servings worth, etc. I really wouldn't be upset about it. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">5) Air conditioning</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Not much to say here. Not sweating ALL DAY EVERYDAY is a nice concept. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">6) A dog I can pet</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-See: rabies, fleas. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">7) US Outlets</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Sockets that actually hold the plugs in tightly? It's really rather brilliant. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">8) A toilet seat</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-My host family possess not a seat toilet, but rather a seat cushion. Wrapped in a carpet. I'd like that good 'ol plastic please. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">9) CHARMIN OR WHATEVER</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-As long as it's not left over party streamers for toilet paper, I'll be happy. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">10) Consistent, stable Internet access</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Not much to explain here.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">11) Computers That Work</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Sometimes it feels like the 90s here...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFIFzAQODdAcsi5mz2YZIxY4R6LzETOLcbjaYOqAhP98TLmE5dC0XiRQGPA7BERKmg20n0msRzMyoymY2sS9Ru4_mVVcgbj7U6J9puH9dwePaH7Nk3RIDQfTjaWDv5Yc8B4iGVcXm79M/s640/blogger-image--1465875909.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFIFzAQODdAcsi5mz2YZIxY4R6LzETOLcbjaYOqAhP98TLmE5dC0XiRQGPA7BERKmg20n0msRzMyoymY2sS9Ru4_mVVcgbj7U6J9puH9dwePaH7Nk3RIDQfTjaWDv5Yc8B4iGVcXm79M/s640/blogger-image--1465875909.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">12) Paper Towels</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-"But Nick they're wasstefulllllllll... and the enviromentttttt". No. <i>No</i>. <b>No</b>. Paper towels are convenient and everything you want them to be. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">13) Not being asked why I'm not married at the age of 22</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Because hey, I'd like to wait until I'm older? </span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Outside the House</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">1) The ability to drive</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I'm lazy. I want my car.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">2) Safer drivers</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-I'm lazy, and I don't want to fear for my life every time I see another driver.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">3) Roads that look like... roads</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Say what you want about Illinois' roads. Seriously. I'll take the Pepsi challenge.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">4) Clear and known traffic laws</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-This is definitely related to number two above and a billion other things I've ever said in this blog. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">5) Sewer systems that are underground</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-It's just better this way, trust me.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">6) Dogs</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Dogs I can pet (see above). Also, dogs I know have homes and are well fed! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">7) Less Justin Bieber and Pitbull</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-It's hard to believe but Tajiks listen to these two goons more than Americans. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">8) Consistent, stable Internet access</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-See above. </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">9) Not being asked why I'm not married at the age of 22</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-Sound familiar?</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-30482878631850681002013-08-05T19:40:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:31:53.244+05:00Worst Blogger Ever? Birthday Special<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Hey everyone. Horribly sorry that I'm apparently the worst blogger ever. I haven't had any great ideas for posts and I keep postponing posts for the next day... BUT today I'll actually grace you alI with some of my writing/rambling.</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Anyways. As some of you may know, I turned 22 last Wednesday (July 31st). So far I'd have to say that the age of 22 is pretty unexciting... I can't do anything that I couldn't do last year!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The morning was the best morning I've had here- mostly thanks to a card shaped like a toilet from my mom and orange juice. yes. orange juice. I scoured the city the day before to find orange juice, because I really just wanted to wake up on my birthday and drink OJ. Let me tell you, it was the best decision I've made here! </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhoLTGk1RknW6xknwCE3zktZPX2_N2fKBHaQENquCFiETXHj9lc5cp0V7qMT1sI45kOzYdaQ7WmZ7QTzjVybWaDgdlUHOkCiiD5b358gDzBFybB2obweGbmf-2qC2pIAZzpijF-vfiQ0/s640/blogger-image-1374436249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhoLTGk1RknW6xknwCE3zktZPX2_N2fKBHaQENquCFiETXHj9lc5cp0V7qMT1sI45kOzYdaQ7WmZ7QTzjVybWaDgdlUHOkCiiD5b358gDzBFybB2obweGbmf-2qC2pIAZzpijF-vfiQ0/s640/blogger-image-1374436249.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">The day was pretty dull and miserably hot (more on that later). The class I teach English to sang happy birthday for me, so that was cool. And I got to tell everyone that we were doing what I wanted because it was my birthday. That was cool too.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">For dinner, my host family let me invite over a few of my friends and cooked me a special birthday dinner (with my favorite* food of course).</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> The</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> party at my house was really nice. Bibijon let me bring a bottle of vodka to the party and the rest of the orange juice helped with the vodka- didn't I tell you the orange juice was the best decision I've made here? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Funny background story here. My host family a few days before had agreed to the party. When they were discussing the party with me, they abruptly switched to Russian and were obviously planning something that they didn't want me to know about. You know what's funny about Russian though? Cognates. You know why Russian-English cognates are funny? Surprise. Yes. In Russian, surprise is "supreez". So I'm listening to this Russian conversation not understanding a thing when suddenly I hear supreez. I immediately alerted my host family and we all had a good laugh...</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">...but I digress. They surprised me with presents (a tea set, a hat, and some really cool traditional wooden spoons) and a tasty ice cream cake.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">After dinner we headed to a bar called Monroe. This particular bar is named after Marilyn Monroe and is, of course, a karaoke bar. We met up with a few other friends there and celebrated my birthday the best way possible- Russian karaoke.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Now you might be asking, "Nick, did you learn Russian?" or, even, "Nick, shouldn't Monroe be an ENGLISH karaoke bar?". And while these may seem like reasonable questions, they are of course silly questions. I still have not learned Russian and it's Tajikistan so everything is in Russian- even karaoke bars named Monroe!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So you can imagine what this scene was like, I'm sure. It becomes even more exciting when another cake arrived (thanks Eric, Joe and Nick!). The most exciting part was the power going out though. That was fun!</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnWZ6S4iewlnXuN6h9-VgckbfgNM7qWp4GTgCmHHfDUM4RSHKTAul5nHsrfXWAqmKo4fow3hOGCyIgYLtKLaVcuGohnnRfLlHmI3sDx-wlBEowIgJpKypdGWm0yZ1S8Kzy1J_4LA5uN8/s640/blogger-image--846184944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXnWZ6S4iewlnXuN6h9-VgckbfgNM7qWp4GTgCmHHfDUM4RSHKTAul5nHsrfXWAqmKo4fow3hOGCyIgYLtKLaVcuGohnnRfLlHmI3sDx-wlBEowIgJpKypdGWm0yZ1S8Kzy1J_4LA5uN8/s640/blogger-image--846184944.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">So all in all it was a pretty fun birthday. I actually had a great time and that was only possible because of all the great people that came out to celebrate with me.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">*I'm of course referring to my favorite <i>Tajik</i> food, here.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-52043219822289264222013-07-21T21:26:00.001+05:002014-04-02T10:33:32.494+05:00To Salt City!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Sorry for the long delay in posts. Last week was a series of midterms (4 to be exact) and I really just didn't have time to post. Or for that matter, anything really interesting to post.</div>
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But it's all worth it! Because this weekend me and two friends (Nick and Eric) went south to a city called Shahrtus. It was super hot but totally worth it...</div>
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*Interesting note on the name of the city. Apparently Shahrtus has a big salt mine, and so it's name comes from this. 'Shahr' means city and 'tus' is one way to say salt. So. Salt City. Cool huh?</div>
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We had initially hoped to go to Takte Sangin, which is on the border of Afghanistan and Tajikistan. It is a well known location and apparently really cool, but unfortunately we couldn't secure permission to travel there from the local military. One of the program's local contacts (who is AWESOME) recommended Shahrtus if we still wanted to go south. He also offered to negotiate our way down there.</div>
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Luckily for us, he has a friend who lives in Shartus. For a nominal fee, his friend drove 3-4 hours to pick us up to Dushanbe, drive back, let us stay at his house, provide us dinner and breakfast, then give us a guided tour of a number of sites in Shartus, and finally drive us back to the city. Worth. Every. Penny.</div>
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Here's a map of where we went- (the blue dot is me in Dushanbe and the red marker is where we went. Shahrtus is about 50km (30mi) north of the Afghan border. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdSxQwnbH9DxbDxbxgCHWnND0Vh9LId9MsvXWZOiK4sYYhmwsw5NbN0EFyLLILUqOssWClslG1M15RJxvIqzowzseRhGqDqb1x-POiZSMRrBV09Z61GLGGER2yqoPSp4vpbGPDu8Tjqs/s640/blogger-image-903956583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdSxQwnbH9DxbDxbxgCHWnND0Vh9LId9MsvXWZOiK4sYYhmwsw5NbN0EFyLLILUqOssWClslG1M15RJxvIqzowzseRhGqDqb1x-POiZSMRrBV09Z61GLGGER2yqoPSp4vpbGPDu8Tjqs/s640/blogger-image-903956583.jpg" /></a></div>
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The drive to our final destination was around 170km (~105mi) but this is of course through the mountains and the desert. With no air conditioning. It wasn't as bad as it sounds but needless to say the ride back was a lot less captivating than the drive there.<br />
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Rahmat (not his actually name, but I did not ask for permission to use his) was a very great tour guide and host. He spoke Tajik, Dari, and Pashtu. Because of his Dari roots, we had a much easier time understand him (Dari is much closer in pronounciation to Iranian Persian than Tajik is) and his family/house was super nice. </div>
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Anyways. After dinner, some cards, and a VERY SHORT sleep we woke up to go check out some places. Waking up early is definitely not my forte but it was totally worth it. It was already nearly 38C (100F)... at 7am. Yikes!</div>
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We first headed to Khojamaskhad. Initially we were pretty confused because we ended up in the middle of a neighborhood, and Rahmat told us to get out. As we got out of the car we could make out some Justin Bieber playing in the background and we were definitely curious as to where we were going. Little did we know that in the middle of this neighborhood was a 9th-10th century school and mosque.</div>
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The coolest part about this particular location was that it had been left almost untouched- some minor restoration work has been done to ensure structural integrity but that was it. This is a big contrast to some of the other historical sites in Tajikistan. Not only that but we were basically alone for about twenty minutes and were able to explore the site. </div>
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One of the domes had an oculus in it that operated as both a solar calendar and clock. This is 9th century technology- isn't that kind of impressive?! </div>
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As we walked back to the car we all enjoyed noting the crazy contrast that we were experiencing. Just behind us was a twelve-hundred year old structure, and just in front of us our Tajik friends playing Justin Bieber. Weird, right?</div>
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Onward we went the to Khojadurbod. Essentially this site is a relatively small tomb in the middle of the desert. There wasn't all that much to see, aside from a lot of bees and some scattered graves in Arabic/Cyrillic. </div>
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We were completely alone out here, and although our tour guide laughed at us, we went out a bit into the desert around the tomb. He didn't join us for good reason... IT WAS HOT!<br />
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Finally our journey concluded at Chelochor Cheshm ("Forty-Four Springs"). Not sure if I've ever seen something quite as amazing or in contrast with its surroundings. After about a half-hour drive through desert mountains, we finally ended up at this relatively unmarked location. </div>
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We got out of the car and headed down into a small valley. While the pictures I took really do not do this place justice, here's a bit of what we found.</div>
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I've never seen water so clear (and remember, I worked for a pool store). You could make out every detail of every fish, plant, and rock at the bottom of every spring. Eventually all the springs merge into a small river (the second picture) and people are allowed to swim there.</div>
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Despite the attention our very pale skin attracted, we opted to go for a swim in the river with the locals. Brr! The water was super cold but it felt really good after walking around. By this time is was probably close to 46-47C (115F) so the cold water was welcome. Did I mention every single Tajik stopped and stared at us while we got in? It was like the entire population at Chelochor Cheshm hadn't seen people so pale before! After ten minutes or so they lost interest, but we definitely had the limelight for that time.</div>
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After swimming for a bit we decided we should get out so that we didn't completely fry in the sun. I have to say after getting out we experienced probably the most comfortable 15 minutes we've had in Tajikistan- we were still pretty cold from the water so the hot wind felt pretty good. After 15 minutes, it was miserable again. But that's 15 minutes! </div>
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(On another note, we didn't bring towels. As one might conclude, air drying in the desert is pretty effective). </div>
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Once dry and dressed we headed up to the restaurant on premise. Despite the hundred flies (not exaggerating, there was easily 100) the food was tasty and cheap. </div>
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Even though it was only 12:30 or so, we had accomplished a lot. It was also starting to get even hotter, so we called it 'a day' and headed back. </div>
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Overall one of the coolest parts of the trip was how unique it was. A lot of travelers go North or West, and this particular city is not frequented by many Westerners. People were definitely curious to see us (read: we were constantly stared at) and it certainly added to the allure. </div>
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I'm honestly dying to go back to Chelochor Cheshm already, so this is definitely on my to-do list when I come back in September. </div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0Dushanbe Dushanbe38.602219 68.786323tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-71735714240238946782013-07-10T20:22:00.000+05:002014-04-02T10:34:25.283+05:00'Live Tweeting' a Day in the Dush<span style="font-family: inherit;">After discussing with some friends (Joe and Eric- whose blogs are conveniently located on the right), I came up with an idea to "live tweet" a day in the life in Dushanbe. Accordingly I went through my day and recorded a few things that happen (and that happen regularly). For those of my readers who aren't familiar with twitter (grandma, I'm talking about you) I recommend reading up on the <a href="http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/understanding-twitter-basics0.html" target="_blank">basics.</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyways, the live tweeting includes time stamps and all tweets are within the 140 character limit. Those of you that follow me on twitter as well may recognize a few of these tweets. Enjoy! :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh yeah also you should know what <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candy_Crush_Saga" target="_blank">Candy Crush</a> is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">6:50am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Nothing like waking up to the sound's of your family's pet prehistoric-bird. Seriously; pterodactyl + chicken = this thing </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:00am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bathroom time in the US: >5 minutes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bathroom time in Tajikistan: <5 minutes</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">#OneOfThoseDays #JKEveryday</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:05am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">WATER PRESSURE WOULD BE GREAT. #ItsLikeALightDrizzle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:34am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rapid succession police sirens down Rudaki Ave. No worries, just the taxi driving gang with their after-market [legal] sirens #GoodMorning</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:40am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Twenty minutes for breakfast AKA twenty minutes spent waiting for my tea to cool down #Sweatin</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:00am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All I can think while brushing my teeth is "don't swallow the water, don't swallow the water" #SickForDays</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:10am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why does this one stretch of my daily walk ALWAYS smell like feces? #HoldinMyNose</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:11am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The crosswalk which gives me a green light to cross for 10 seconds and no one stops #DeadmanWalkin</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:23am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The daily struggle to ask for water WITHOUT gas continues </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:30am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The hottest classroom (with air conditioning) award goes to... #Drumroll</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:30am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">MY CLASSROOM. I get to sit in this stagnant room for the next four hours and SWEAT</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:35am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Already soaked. #SexyAndIKnowIt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:20am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Break! Candy Crush time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:23am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have a ten minute break and my teacher keeps talking to me <<<<<<<</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">#LeaveMeBe #BrainBreakRequired</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:30am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now that the "break" has concluded... on to some story I absolutely do not understand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10:00am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Legitimately think that story is in a language other than Persian #TryAgainProfessor </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10:19am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Breakkkkkkkk. Going to the "Wild Dragon Shack" for a bag of chips and a snickers... All for a dollar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10:31am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sorry prof, don't mind while I just sit here and chomp on my chips super loudly #NomNom</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:04am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tajik is seriously like another language. It is NOT Iranian Farsi lol #CyrillicBeLikeHuh</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:21am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So hungry. Need food. One more hour.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:28am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">FINALLY BEAT THIS LEVEL ON CANDY CRUSH #CandyCrushinForDays</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:49am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When you're sitting in class talking about how to say all kinds of fruits in Tajik AND YOU'RE STARVING #ThatStuffIDontLike</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:20pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lunchhhhhhh nowwwwww.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:21pm </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And so commences the daily debate: sketchy (and cheap) Russian cafe or the Iranian restaurant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:27pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Justice prevails! Onward to the tasty Iranian food (Paniz).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:37pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Waiting for the bus means telling 27 mashrutkas that you're waiting for the bus #TheHustle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:43pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We're on the bus with the air freshener! If only there was more than one and it wasn't 110 out... #StinkSession</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:50pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Paniz! Paniz! Paniz! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:51pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tajik waitresses that don't speak Iranian Farsi at the Iranian restaurant #RiddleMeThat </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:10pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Stuffed. God I love Iranian food.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:12pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We always say we want to "do something" but then we walk outside and we're like... Lets go to the place with air conditioning #TajikProblems</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:15pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">REVISION: we have decided to go to the bazaar.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:17pm </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We put our hand out on the side of the road and every single car pulled over and tried to pick us up. #MashrutkaTime</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:36pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">How many people do you think the driver is going to pick up?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:45pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Answer: 19. 19 people. In a van. No air conditioning. Where do I even go?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1:57pm </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bazaar!!!! :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2:20pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bazaar!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2:42pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bazaar...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:03pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bazaar :( let's go. I'm as wet as the ocean and I'm in the middle of a desert. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:10pm </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mashrutka number two of the day. Lets play #GuessHowManyPeopleCanWeFit!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:19pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This bridge looks like it's under construction... Traffic narrowed down to one lane each way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:19pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">UPDATE: Traffic limited to one lane ONE way... And guess what?? It's not the way we're going </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:20pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whelp. Crossed the bridge. That was my #LifeFlashedBeforeMyEyes moment of the day... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:34pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">No I don't speak Russian, but thanks for assuming I do #EveryoneInThisCountry</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:35pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ahhhh the daily lecture from random Tajiks about the greatness of the Russian language, how useful, important it is, etc.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:37pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">No, I still don't speak Russian. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:45pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Safely out of the car! I would kiss the ground right now if it wasn't full of trash #TajikProblems</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">3:57pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bahahah @JoeCalder fell in the joo!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4:03pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two words: air conditioning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4:44pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The need to go to the squatty potty can sneak up on one very fast #TajikProblems</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">4:46pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Good thing someone left their homework here; I forgot my toilet paper.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">5:30pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Home! Predinner nap!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">6:30pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyone awake? I need some help on #CandyCrush</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:00pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Doing Persian homework after doing Persian class and Persian speaking all day is frustrating. #BrokenBrain</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:40pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tajik TV, tho.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">7:45pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Bibijon just asked me why I wasn't married (again). Oh Bibijon... #IfOnlyYouKnew</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:00pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That time of day when the city is breaking fast. In other words, DEAD SILENT all across the city. #NomNom</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:20pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The silence only broken by my host brother and father arguing. Daily occurrence, nothing to worry about here folks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:40pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dinner wrapping up...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">8:42pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">...false alarm more food has just arrived!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:04pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Host family is really concerned that I don't eat enough. They are easily the only people that think that. #FatKid</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:10pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My daily argument with my host mom. She refuses to let me even take my dishes into the kitchen. It's no big deal- I have hands! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:23pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Teaching my host brother and the neighbor how to play Rummy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:25pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This isn't going well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:30pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay... Rummy unsuccessful. Guess we'll play that Russian card game that they love so much. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:31pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's called like Kaldrogo or something. Never really sure what's happening in it. #IDontSpeakRussian</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:40pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I won?! I think the kids I'm playing with are just as surprised as me! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">9:50pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Fruit plate! Wahoooooooo</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10:30pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Goodnight Twitter, I'm going to bed! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">10:50pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cantttttt sleeeeeppppp</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:04pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So hot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:30pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Haha this is amazing [RandomLinkHere]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:45pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Seriously I need to go to sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">11:46pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looks like it's supposed to cool down tomorrow- only 105! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:00am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love that there's a hot water heater right next to the toilet! #SaidNoOneEver</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:06am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Immodium: my best friend in Tajikistan #TajikLife</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:15am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Either I'm hallucinating or there's a small earthquake occurring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">12:35am</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why am I still awake?</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-59900864191661979692013-07-07T15:37:00.000+05:002013-07-07T15:37:53.836+05:00New blogs! Take a look on the right for more Tajik bloggers!<br />
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-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4568415438729810774.post-86272626832358918872013-07-04T18:26:00.000+05:002014-04-02T10:35:05.089+05:00Surviving in Dushanbe [A Guide to Surviving Everday Tajik Life] Part 2With another month under my belt in Dushanbe, I thought it only appropriate to expand on my <a href="http://dushanbedays.blogspot.com/2012/08/surviving-in-dushanbe-guide-to-everyday.html">initial tips for survival in Dushanbe.</a> Hopefully someday these guides will properly prepare you for your trip to Tajikistan (because you definitely plan on coming here, right?!).<br />
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<b>Phrases*: </b><br />
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1) Negah darid (neg-ah dar-eed): <i>stop here</i><br />
-This mostly comes in handy when you are on a bus and you've just cruised passed your stop (hey it happens!) or you're in a shared bus-taxi and you need to get out immediately. Or if you're just completely sure your driver is going to get you killed.<br />
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2) Quiamat ast! (ghee-a-mat ast): <i>That's expensive!</i><br />
-If you've been paying attention, by now you should know how to ask how much something in and determine prices. Now the next step is playing the haggling game. What better way to start then expressing your concern at the overpriced knock-off Adidas gear?!<br />
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3) Takfif darid? (tak-feef dar-eed): <i>Do you have a discount?</i><br />
-Always a great follow-up to claiming something is expensive, merchants will always be willing to give you a discount to bring down the price.<br />
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4) Ob-e Be Gaz (aw-bee bay gaz): <i>water without gas</i><br />
-It's 100-110 degrees every day. You're going to need to buy water (because trust me, you're not drinking the tap water). I don't know about you all, but that water with gas is basically not even water. Hence, the usefulness of this phrase.<br />
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5) Shahar (sha-har) and ruz (rooz): <i>city and day</i><br />
-So you're thinking how could the words city and day possible be 1) useful and 2) related? Well remember, Dushanbe literally translates to Monday... so you have to be ready to distinguish between what Dushanbe you're referring to. You'd hate to tell someone you'll meet them in Dushanbe at the library and be stuck waiting there until Monday.<br />
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6) Ob Bazi Konam (aw-b baw-zee co-nom):<i> I want to play with water</i><br />
-This phrase is obviously multipurpose. Dirty? In need of a shower? Done. Hot? Want to cool off in a glacier-water pool? Check. Nostalgic? Want to hop in the hose and relive those childhood memories? No problem. This phrase is for you. Not sure how to differentiate between uses? Join the club.<br />
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7) Piva (pee-va): <i>beer</i><br />
-Do I really even need to say anything?<br />
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*For my non-Persian speaking readers, read the words in parenthesis as if it were English for proper pronunciation. <br />
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<b>Bathroom Tips:</b><br />
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1) All previous bathroom tips are worth re-reading, but this one particular point deserves a re-posting:<br />
NEVER EVER EVER expect ANY location to have toilet paper/last week's homework. Thus, you should always carry baby wipes.<br />
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<b>Getting Around Dushanbe:</b><br />
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1) Walking? Remember to "Mind the Joo". <br />
-This catchy little phrase is very important, and while it may seem anti-Semitic from the onset I can assure you it's not. Dushanbe has something that vaguely resembles a sewer system, however it is not concealed like the systems in the US. So essentially, along the side of EVERY road (on both sides of the road) is a small trench that is two feet deep. In Persian, the word for stream is "joo" and so the logic follows quickly: "mind the joo" else you'll end up with a sprained ankle (or worse, a sprained ankle covered in sewage).<br />
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2) Cross with a Tajik<br />
-If you're afraid to cross the street you have good reason. There's no shame in waiting for a local to come and crossing the street with them. Just follow them closely and you *should* be safe.<br />
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3) Cross like a Tajik<br />
-When crossing the street, even at stoplights, be advised that a clear time to walk may never exist. In times like this you may be required to walk like a Tajik. That is, cross one lane of traffic at a time. As one might imagine, you may be doing this more often than not if you are taking the above advice into consideration.<br />
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4) The daily routine<br />
-A fact of Tajik life is that once a day your life will flash before your eyes. 99 times out of 100, this comes as part of your daily commute in some bus-taxi or taxi. I've seen a surprisingly little amount of accidents here in the city, but it doesn't make what's happening in the car any less scary!<br />
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5) The Mysterious Mashrutka Numbers<br />
-So there's busses and bus-taxis (mashrutkas). The mashrutkas follow the same route as the busses and, while they are a little more pricey, they're usually faster and more comfortable. Common bus/mashrutkas routes are the 1, 2, 3, and 8. There's a few less common ones, and then there's a few that I'm pretty sure just don't have a bus counterpart. The million dollar question: where do these mysterious mashrutkas go? As 67s, 16s,12s, and others pass you by, you'll certainly ask yourself (and even Tajiks) this question. But the real answer is, no one really knows where they go.<br />
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6) On the topic of Mashrutkas...<br />
-This also applies to your regular taxis, but car drivers are particularly sensitive about only one part of their car: the doors. When getting in and out of cars, be sure to be ultra-careful while shutting the door. Really, the art of Tajik Door Shutting is kind of impossible; one must shut the door in such a way that it actually, well, closes... but with literally no more force than that. If the door makes too loud of a shutting sound, you're going to get an earful from your driver about shutting the door slowly and respecting his car!<br />
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7) On the topic of entering/exiting vehicles...<br />
-Bus or car, it's worthwhile to mention that the appropriate time to enter/exit a vehicle may not be readily apparent. Most of us are probably used to a car or bus coming to a complete stop before entering or exiting occurs. In Tajikistan, the appropriate time is of course any speed below 20km/hr.<br />
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8) Flag 'em down!<br />
-Here in Dushanbe, each bus is equipped with a small Tajik boy (sometimes a teenager) who collects fairs. If you are down the road and the bus is departing, you can wave down the fair-collector or bus driver and they will usually wait for you. This is pretty awesome! If you're a straggler catching up to a departing bus, tip number seven is particularly relevant information for you. Also if you're cool enough, busses will stop at non-bus stops to pick you up.<br />
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General Tips<br />
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1) Street Vendors are hit-or-miss<br />
-This is pretty self-explanatory but it's worth mentioning. Some street vendor food is going to ruin your life for the next few days, while others won't give you the slightest issue. Moral of the story: eating street vendor food is like playing Russian Roulette with diarrhea.<br />
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2) Giant Asian Hornets<br />
-Despite what locals say, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asian_giant_hornet">these things</a> definitely sting. And they're probably the scariest insect I've ever come face to face with. Mind your P's and Q's when these things are around.<br />
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3) Hate flys? Bring your own swatter<br />
-Fly swatters, despite the high population of flies, are in low demand in Tajikistan. I've been hard pressed to find one here, so my advice is that if you despise flies you should bring your own swatter on the plane over.<br />
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4) Do all internet-related activities prior to coming here<br />
-Seriously, do them in a country that actually has functioning internet.<br />
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5) The Hyatt Business Lunch<br />
-One, two, or three course meal. Unlimited drinks (lemonade, iced tea, coffee, etc.). Amazing food (I had duck curry today). Reasonable price (for the US). One course meal is going to run you 55 som (==$11.32), two course meal is 65 som (==$13.37), three course meal is 75 som (==$15.43). Go for the two course, get the dessert. You'll be happy.<br />
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6) Small bills. Small bills. Small bills.<br />
-Tajik Somoni can be broken down into 1, 3, 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 200, and 500 dollar bills. The game you will be constantly playing in Tajikistan is "Where can I break this bill?". You always want to have a 1 or 3 on hand (remember, busses are 1 som & mashrutkas are 3) because they probably won't be able/willing to break a 10 or anything larger. Smaller scale stores usually won't be able to break larger bills either, so always try to use your largest bill and save the precious small ones until you have to use it!<br />
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7) Chicago? Chicago Bulls? Michael Jordan?!<br />
-All Tajiks know Michael Jordan. In fact, it's the only consistent knowledge any Tajiks have in regards to Chicago.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05823419217353958493noreply@blogger.com0Dushanbe Dushanbe38.602829 68.788185