Second World Problems

The "Second World" refers to the former communist-socialist, industrial states, (formerly the Eastern bloc, the territory and sphere of influence of the Union of Soviet Socialists Republic) today: Russia, Eastern Europe (e.g., Poland) and some of the Turk States (e.g., Kazakhstan) as well as China.
Source

blue = 1st
red = 2nd
green = 3rd

• When your eggs are covered in chicken poop
• When you have to drink instant coffee because you don't have a coffee maker, and coffee filters are hard to find
• Netflix, Amazon Prime, and YouTube videos are "not available in your country"
• Your hot water kettle is caked with white calcium/mineral build up
• When you can't find heat protectant hair spray anywhere  :(
• When a guy follows you off the metro for 10 minutes because you have a "friendly-looking face" and later that day a taxi driver jokes that he's going to take you to his house if he can't find yours (because I couldn't remember my address, to be fair...)
• Every night you get home and your hair smells like cigarette smoke
• Most shops in the city don't carry iPhone accessories- especially not for the newest model
• When it's too windy to use your outdoor clothes line (I'm on the 5th floor, so if something falls it's bad news for me)
• When you don't have AC, but you don't want to open your windows because so many flies and other bugs will come in...
• When you check the weather before doing laundry because you hang your clothes to dry outside
• Bread expires in 3-4 days because it's not full of preservatives (but they sell it in smaller loaves, so it's not so bad) 
  
• When you can't tell if you're tanner or just permanently coated in street dust
• You can't go outside with wet hair because everyone will stare and old ladies will yell at you that you will get sick
• You can't text while walking because the sidewalks are treacherous...each step is on a different level, full of potholes, and sometimes random obstacles like broken pieces of concrete, glass shards, or pipes sticking out of the ground! When cars park on the sidewalks (which is very frequent) you have to walk on the road, and with the crazy way that people drive, that is DEFINITELY not conducive to a leisurely text-and-walk experience
• You can never get everything charged at once because a) all the plugs are single, so there are less of them, and b) you have to use bulky converter/adapters and you probably have more devices than converters
  
• Somethings are much cheaper (fresh vegetables, public transportation), and some things are much more expensive...definitely sucks when something you wanted turns out to be prohibitively expensive- like cereal or coffee creamer or athletic clothes. 

Bonus: this is more of a personal struggle, but I'll share it here anyway...
Apparently, some of the people in my apartment building weren't paying their building maintenance fees (usually $2-3 per month), so the building owner installed a thing in the elevator where you have to pay to use it. This isn't super uncommon in Georgia, but usually it's 5 or 10 cents per ride, and ours is 20 cents! So it adds up fast. This morning, I try to leave my house and I realized I never have taken the elevator down by myself. I just found out, however, that it's free going down, so I decided to ride. There was no "ground floor" marker, just buttons 0-10, so I tried floor 1...the doors open and it's a concrete floor with broken wooden beams and scattered construction tools...so I tried floor 0 and it's literally just dirt and sand with pieces of trash laying around...I didn't even stick my head out of the elevator. I was scared that a rat or a vagrant or someone would run into the elevator so I just hit "close doors" as hard as possible. The exit is on floor 2. 
Then, struggle part 2 came when I got home- I was carrying bags and tired so I decided to pay the 20 cents and take the elevator up to the 5th floor where I live. I was curious if other coins would work, so I tried a Russian rouble- it didn't work. After about 5 seconds, though, the doors close, the lights turn off, and the elevator just sits motionless. Now I was in the dark, holding grocery bags and my purse, and terrified that I would end up back in the basement. I dug around my wallet for a big coin and found what I thought was a 20-cent piece. I shoved it into the box but nothing happened...so I guess it was some other coin? I didn't want to waste any more money, so I looked for my phone but with all my bags I couldn't find it rolling around the corners of my purse for probably a whole minute. Finally I got my phone and turned the flashlight on, found a 20-cent coin, and got to my floor...but that elevator really should have a motion-sensor light.
 

Just Caucasus Things Pt. II

And check out the first installment here

I have been informed that this is in fact a fraction-
they work 24 hours out of the 24 hours in a day...
no indication how many days a week they work
(this format is pretty common in much of Europe, also)

"dzmaaaaao"

I don't actually know anything about this, but the
Signagi PD has this and a golf cart

bahahahaha this is my best pun ever I die everytime I read it

 

Just Caucasus Things

as my gym membership card is called

for the record, her shirt said "screw you. pay me." and "trust me, love me, pay me"

PART II IS HERE

The Scariest thing that's Ever Happened to me while Traveling?

You'll notice the title of this post is punctuated with a question mark. While, objectively, the experience I describe here is probably the scariest thing that ever happened to me while traveling, I don't have any kind of traumatic aftereffects, I felt pretty okay about it even just the next morning, and I while I remember thinking I was terrified, crying, shaking, I only remember feeling the adrenaline. So take from this what you will, maybe I'm just weird like that, but I am very rarely afraid while traveling. I think something about being out in the world, especially on my own, is empowering. I feel more confident, more in control, like I'm choosing to affect the world rather than just sitting, shuffling through my daily routine, letting the world passively shape me. So this experience perhaps has made me more cautious, I make different decisions in certain contexts, but on the whole it has not definitely shaped or changed any of my travel decisions, my perceptions of any place or people, or my daily life.

**This was just one experience that happened to me once. While I don't want to try and sweep under the rug any serious issues that underlie society or disregard others' similar experiences that may have a more traumatizing effect, I do not intend this story to scare you or make you think deeply and critically about the dangers of traveling or sexual assault. In fact, I have been reticent to share it exactly because I was worried that it might scare solo female travelers (or my parents). But I feel like I should share it, mainly to show that yes, sometimes bad or scary things do happen while you travel, but there are ways out of bad situations and if you keep your head and make smart choices, even a bad situation can turn into just an interesting blog post.**

So, here goes nothing:

Summer 2013 I was selected, along with nine other American students, as a winner of a national essay contest sponsored by the Azerbaijani Ministry of Youth and Sport and received a twelve day, all expense paid educational trip to Azerbaijan.
On one of our last nights in Azerbaijan, we were in Baku and I was feeling very confident in the city. It was a beautifully warm night and several of us went to a restaurant/bar on the Bulvar, about a 10 min walk from our hotel. This is the main drag, the most developed, safest, most touristy area of the city. The Bulvar is well lit and there were still plenty of restaurants open, plenty of patrons sitting and chatting, and a few strolling along the waterfront.

the Bulvar

So we ended up sitting down and smoking hookah, but I wasn't really into that, and some other stuff happened with the personal dynamics of the group, plus I was exhausted so when 2 am rolled around I was ready to head home. Everyone else wanted to stay, so I just left on my own. As I said- it was brightly lit, there were plenty of people on the Bulvar, and the hotel was like 10 minutes away. Probably not a great idea, but it wasn't without conscious thought.
I walked about halfway down the strip and I passed a group of waiters hanging out at an empty bar. As I had experienced consistently in Baku, I got calls of "devushka" (girl in Russian) because they probably thought I was Russian since I'm obviously not Azeri. (also, absolutely not that it matters, but I was wearing knee length khaki shorts and a loose tank top- nothing more revealing than any other Baku woman would wear). As I passed I just ignored the calls like always, but after several meters I still heard a man calling after me. I could hear him trying to get my attention, walking behind me, and getting closer. I snuck a glance behind me and saw one of the waiters about 15 meters behind me. I sped up and continued to ignore him. I heard his footsteps pounding- he was running. I didn't want him to see him see that he was scaring me so I didn't run, just walked faster. As he closed in I reached the end of the Bulvar. I had a decision to make to reach the hotel:

• keep going forward off the Bulvar into some other buildings. The area was deserted except for three middle aged men sitting on chairs on the sidewalk talking to each other. I couldn't be certain whether those men would side with me or the waiter. Especially colored by my immediate experience of being followed by an Azeri guy, I wasn't feeling very trusting, and the last thing I wanted was a 4 against 1 situation- so I rejected that option.
• stand at the edge of the street and wait for a break in the traffic to cross to the hotel. Unfortunately, even at 2 am traffic in Baku is insane. I was worried that if I was standing at the curb and things got physical, I might get pushed into traffic and smushed. Also, we had seen a really bad car accident quite close to that spot the night before, so I rejected that option.
• cross through the under pass beneath the street- this is the main way to get between the hotel and the Bulvar. Of course, that would mean isolating myself with the creep following me in a dark, confined, underground space. Unfortunately, that was my best option. So I prayed there would be no other potential threats in the mysterious underpass and scrambled down the stairs.

He caught up with me about halfway through the tunnel and grabbed my arm. I stopped an confronted him. He was skinny and short and I probably could have taken him, but I thought he might have a knife or something and that would have made the situation much more dangerous. I tried to yell at him in English, demonstrating I wasn't Azeri or Russian. I tried to tell him "fuck you" in Azeri but I probably said it wrong and just confused him because there was basically no reaction.

At this point I gave up and just started running. He was inches behind me, and I didn't look back. I put some distance between us, but there was a final set of stairs leading up out into the city, basically to the doors of the hotel. Halfway up the stairs he reached out for me again, this time one hand on my ass and one grabbing my arm. I turned around, pumped full of adrenaline, with freedom just a few steps above, and I pushed him with all my strength down the stairs back into the underpass. He disappeared and I never saw him again.

I tripped up the last few steps and there were several taxi drivers standing around the entrance that heard the commotion and asked me if everything was okay. I nodded and quickly ran into the hotel. Thank God for those men, because they really balanced out my experience. One bad man, three unknown but doubted, and three or four good guys reminded me not to generalize.

My roommate listened to me and let me cry on her shoulder (shout out to Rhys!) and I went to sleep, and in the morning I felt fine. Anyway, that's basically the whole story. What do you think- was it worth being scared over? Should my fear have lasted? Did I scare you??? (plztellmeno)

**please refer to my disclaimers at the beginning**

Ateshgah

Stories from the Land of Fire: 1

Originally published on http://karabakhfoundation.com/heritage-center-online/blog/

This past summer I was selected, along with nine other American students, as a winner of a national essay contest sponsored by the Azerbaijan Ministry of Youth and Sport and received a twelve day, all expenses paid trip to Azerbaijan. I would like to share my wonderful good fortune and help those who have not yet visited the incredible country to understand life there little bit better, but as there are already a few posts on the subject, I will refer you to “Impressions of an American High Schoolstudent in Baku” by Matthew Miller and “An Azerbaijani American in Baku” by Farzin Farzad for an overview on the subject. Instead, I will share with you a few stories from my trip that I think offer some insight into the untamed mystery and boundless intrigue that I experienced over my two weeks in Azerbaijan. 

Ateshgah

Azerbaijan- Land of Fire, right? The epithet is frequently used in tourism ad campaigns and YouTube videos, but many people are unfamiliar with its roots. The name Azerbaijan is thought to be derived from ancient Persian meaning guardian/protector of fire. Fire has long held a central place in Azerbaijan’s culture due to the naturally occurring flames in some areas caused by powerful underground gas vents. The ancient people of Greater Iran followed the Zoroastrian faith and worshiped the natural fires of Azerbaijan going back as far as the first millennium BC. Zoroastrianism is a fascinating practice, and Azerbaijan is often quickly associated with it in light conversation, but I really did not know much about the religion and its ties to the country until I visited Ateshgah Fire Temple in Baku. The temple itself has been mostly rebuilt as a replica of the original, a slightly disappointing trend I saw in a large number of exhibits in the country, but was still an imposing structure. It had lots of open spaces, arches, and fortification-like walls. Mannequins of ancient fire worshiping pilgrims (kind of creepy, to be honest) were set up in some of the rooms built into the temple’s walls. Manmade gas-lit fires were also laid out where natural fires once burned in order to give visitors a picture of the temple when it was active.

What really struck me about the temple was that it was abandoned so recently, in 1883, after an earthquake snuffed the natural fires which the Zoroastrians took as a sign that their god’s favor had turned against the spot. While America was fighting its Civil War, fire was being worshiped as a divine revelation on the oh-so-remote Absheron Peninsula. The word “ancient” always seems to be used in discussions of Zoroastrianism in Azerbaijan, but in fact the traditions there died out not so long ago. Another interesting fact I learned is that Zoroastrians were vegetarians! Instead of sacrificing animals they sacrificed fruits, with the pomegranate being the most holy as its deep red and spiked crown are reminiscent of flame. 

A few of us took the opportunity to create a little Nowruz celebration. Nowruz is an extremely popular holiday in Azerbaijan that is derived from Zoroastrian traditions. The holiday celebrates the coming of spring and traditionally, as a recognition of Nowruz’ fire-worshipping past, every Tuesday for four weeks prior to the holiday children jump over small bonfires and candles are lit. So we picked the biggest bonfire, blazing in the center of the temple, joined hands, and, channeling through us the centuries of tradition and faith in the Caucasus, Azerbaijan, Baku, and this very temple, leaped over the flames. 

Sheki's Spell

Stories from the Land of Fire:2

Originally published on http://karabakhfoundation.com/heritage-center-online/blog/

This past summer I was selected, along with nine other American students, as a winner of a national essay contest sponsored by the Azerbaijan Ministry of Youth and Sport and received a twelve day, all expenses paid trip to Azerbaijan. I would like to share my wonderful good fortune and help those who have not yet visited the incredible country to understand life there little bit better, but as there are already a few posts on the subject, I will refer you to “Impressions of an American High Schoolstudent in Baku” by Matthew Miller and “An Azerbaijani American in Baku” by Farzin Farzad for an overview on the subject. Instead, I will share with you a few stories from my trip that I think offer some insight into the untamed mystery and boundless intrigue that I experienced over my two weeks in Azerbaijan. 

Sheki’s Spell

Sheki is the seventh largest city in Azerbaijan and houses a tiny population of just over 50,000, located at the foot of the Greater Caucasus Mountains it is a leisurely and visually stunning retreat. My first impression of the town was at around 10:30 at night, in the pitch dark and pouring rain, being tossed off a bus in front of an unfamiliar and un-navigable assortment of cabins, children’s amusements (a deflated blow up castle, a child-size statue of Shrek the ogre), strings of Christmas lights, and mud that was our accommodation for the night. Without instruction or warning, I was ushered into a huddle of about ten people under a large golf umbrella shivering in our shorts and t-shirts. Room keys were hastily doled out, vague directions pointed across the grounds, and we were left to fend for ourselves. About an hour later the rain had stopped and we were all gathered, of course, around food. The unfortunately outdoor restaurant had been lavishly prepared for the nearly 100 foreign guests that descended on this idyllic (in the light of day, I'm sure it really was) resort, and I think all of our mouths watered at the heaping piles of bread and fruit already on the table in traditional Azerbaijani fashion and the smell of spices and simmering fat coming from the kitchen. The cold mountain air combined with our still damp clothing to gnaw into our bones with an unexpected viciousness, but nothing could deter us when the waiters gleefully brought out the main course. Steaming masterpieces of beautiful Sheki-style shakh (crown) plov.   

Shakh Plov <3

We ate heaping plates of plov, bread, fresh watermelon and cucumbers, and deliciously greasy chicken for about an hour, and as we began to warm up none of us wanted to sleep! So we ordered bottles of local beer and other libations and laughed and talked until a hotel manager came out and suggested that we visit the hotel club. Now, we were speaking through a translator whose English was not exactly top notch, and to be fair perhaps something was lost in translation, but as surprised as we were to hear that this little mountain bungalow resort had a club, we followed the manager without hesitation. He led us down twisting, unlit pathways (a quick pit stop at an unexpected drink stand) towards the “club”. Nondescript fountains bubbled quietly at the entrance to the dark windows and natural wooden walls. About forty of us stepped into the mysterious building to find plush carpeted floors, banquet tables pushed up against the walls, a small, empty bar, sufficiently large and central photographs of Heydar and Ilham Aliyev, and a ten year old boom box being pulled out from under the bar and propped on a central wicker chair by several young men dressed in the black and white of the hotel staff. Despite this unusual “club”, we ended up having an incredible time! The Brazilians sambaed, the Egyptians clapped and shimmied, and even the hotel staff danced right along with us. Over the course of my stay in Azerbaijan I saw a whole lot of dancing, and something that really struck me was that even the youngest, most apparently hip and modern men and women still dance in the traditional style. It’s not just that they are able, but they are ready and willing to break out the duel-like dance moves as soon as strains of the right music begin. A fifteen year old boy began flicking the light switch on and off like a strobe light and the unconventional party didn’t stop until almost 3:00 in the morning!  
 

Central America anyone?!

Needless to say, the next day we were all drained, and for most of the morning I barely shuffled around Sheki’s beautiful historical sites- the Caravansarai, Sheki Khan’s Palace, and a Soviet-era museum to name a few. By lunch time we were all feeling a little better, faced with another mouth-watering spread of food and a gorgeous view of the town to boot! The mountains here were closer and more reminiscent of tropical Central America than anywhere else I visited and the history just oozes from the cobblestoned streets, Sheki is a definite recommended destination!