Back in the smoke

8 November 2010

Felt, a little, just a little, like coming home, returning to Dushanbe – I got a lift with Paul, Umed, N and Joe who were coming to the city to see the Zoo. It felt relaxing travelling with them, knowing that you would be taken to where you wanted to go, that you could communicate with them and maybe even have a laugh! First though before anything else, was lunch which was a mountain of pizza and mixed grill eaten at Merve Restaurant. I just had a pizza and my favourite Ayran – some of the others, who will remain nameless, had my size pizza for starter, and a huge mixed grill for main. Eating this amount of food is a military operation, but it was not taken too seriously!

Last night was dancing round the living room to Lady Gaga with a one year old having drunk (me not her) two shots of Arak with her grandfather! He raised a glass to people everywhere being the same, wherever they came from. The little Amina loves dancing and cries my name when she sees me, dragging me to sit down next to her. Watching her move her little body, spinning like a dervish, made the whole family laugh.

We were talking about Christmas, in English unfortunately, N relaxed her strict rules for once that we only speak Tajik because we were both into the conversation, and it was crystal clear to us both that I would never be able to follow in Tajik. It  was interesting that in Soviet times, they celebrated New Year on 31^t  December/ 1^st January with a tree and presents for the children. Basically tacking on the traditional Christmas celebrations to a secular day of fun. The pagan celebration comes full circle. However since independence the government no longer celebrates this day, no more Christmas trees in schools. Noruz is the main holiday instead. For N it is too late to change her traditions like that, although it might work for her younger countrymen and women. She misses the end of New Year.

The family lives as is normal in Tajikistan with three generations together, the parents with the youngest, or only son and his wife and children. The father (or grandfather, rather) is a bit of a joker and we laugh together, even though we can’t understand eachother, maybe even because we can’t understand eachother. He is a kindly grandfather who sits feeding his grandchildren (the girl of one and her older brother who is three), dandling them on his knee. He helps in the kitchen more than I have seen many men here. The mother is a silent ghost, with a sweet smile, who just seems to follow round her children, sorting them out with their many ups and downs.

What is not so normal is the house where they live, a beautiful house in the centre, (not an apartment) in a desirable location behind the Ped (or Pedagogical) Institute. The father is in construction, and has obviously done well. N, his wife works for the American Council as Academic Coordinator. She often has American students studying Persian staying in this room. The house is a traditional one, round a courtyard, with beautiful wooden doors and beams. So my room is in a separate building from the rest. Great when I want to play my music loud, not so great when I want to go to the toilet in the middle of the night and have to skip past the dog.

Yes the dog, Filia, whose name belies his guard dog build and his capacity for semi-violent play, not to mention his sex. His mouth fits comfortably (for him, rather than me) round my arm. And when he jumps up, his paws are almost on my shoulders. I am not scared of big dogs, but him… at least until he got used to me, I was not over keen. I had to learn the word for sit pretty quickly, as I realised that “down” was not going to work, as he had never been taught English (!). Now I just say “Beshin” or sit! However it is better not to catch his eye at all. Definitely no playing. At least though, he seems to be good with the kids.

I will be staying here until the end, being a “Centre Girl” as H called me, thinking I won’t go visiting to anyone out of the centre any more. I was staying with H who used to work for the Institute, also on the website, for a few days before here. She is about to give birth any moment, and I am so thinking about her and wishing her all the best.

It has been a busy couple of weeks, meeting academics and art professionals, trying to gather as much information to work on in the next few weeks before I come back out here. I also visited the Ismaili Centre which is the most wonderful building, they do tours on Sundays open to anyone, and I strongly recommend anyone who comes to Dushanbe to go there. It has been so beautifully thought out, such a meaningful mix of ancient forms and modern functions, a really exciting building. It has just dawned on me I have four days left in Dushanbe!

I also visited Hissar fort, an easy day (or half day) trip from the capital, with a group of economics students and their lecturer, looking at the tourism provisions in this important historical site. These as we all agreed left much to be desired, so I was able to give both a tourist and museum professional take on how these could be improved, so I was brought in to speak to the students the next day, and even am taking part in some kind of university challenge event, between three universities in Dushanbe, on Saturday on the same subject. I am just waiting to be thoroughly confounded by Mr Paxman himself!

 This week of course was Eid, which was highly amusing first meeting up with G and going round with her and her youngest sister to various classmates’ homes. The younger sister, who was a sweet twelve year old, everyone we visited assumed she was my daughter, rather than G’s sister, and indeed in colouring we were much more similar – and perhaps even in looks. Eid is hilarious, as you move around the city visiting friends, and so the whole city is on the move, dressed up and carrying sweets in the case of the children. In the evening I met with my Iranian friend J and with her and her friend went to the Professor’s home in Circ, near where I used to live. The spread was amazing, I have never seen such a tablecloth of food laid out. Nuts, sweets, fruit as well as plates of chicken, onion and chips. There I met a lovely German woman who spoke great Tajik. The others decided, laughing, we shouldn’t have been put together as we were chatting too intently!

Last week, I went to a nightclub again with J and her friends. J loves dancing too, so that was really fun. Dancing the night away on cups of tea! The dancing was great, the guys looking like they were taking part in an ancient ritual, having slaughtered a sheep! The clubs here are in some ways pretty good, in that you sit down have some food, see a variety of acts, from belly dancing (hmm) to traditional music, fused with dance beats and dance. The stage of this one was shaped like the prow of a ship and various ladies in various little costumes draped themselves over the wheel. The name of the place was Nine Bar, which I didn’t really see how that fitted!

Today I have just taken part in a tourism round table event at the Ped Institute. I thought it was going to be a group of students, but in fact they were listening, mostly, and it was mostly heads of various tourism organisations. I suddenly became an expert on museums and heritage! Hmm!