Falaka in school

From Ayni's book 'Maktabi köhna' - 'The Old School'. What a pleasant book for children. (Actually it's quite interesting and entertaining...no, really, it is.)

Most books that I've read here are from the Soviet times, that's why the pages are yellow.

This is what Wikipedia says about Falaka: This type of beating is excruciatingly painful – the sole of the foot is one of the most sensitive parts of the human body. It was considered humiliating as well, and generally reserved for the lower classes, though a variant was also used in schoolrooms with unruly children.

Outside of Varzob Bozor

Just outside of Varzob Bozor. Strange weather.

Yellow stuff

Took this photo from one of Muallima's windows. He's selling some sort of maize product. Didn't quite get what it was but it's sweet anyway. He stands there all day, selling it to school children. Notice the toqi.

STOP IT! YOU'RE STEALING ALL THE INTERNET!

The first time a lady came, telling me off for having too many windows open. In chi gap? Close some windows your stealing all the Internet! Stop downloading so many pictures!'

'Ok, Ok,' I said and closed some windows, just for show. Two minutes later a guy comes, saying the same thing in Russian. I know this because I could distinctly hear 'zakrit'. So I closed some more windows. Stupid idiots. If I pay one extra Somoni, I could surf unhindered at Plazma. But no, I have to come to this crummy cafe and surf with one window at a time.

NB. I was just surfing some ordinary Swedish news sites. But I tend to have alot of windows open, yes, becuase it's the Internet is soo slow.

Holes

Who needs windows when you can have holes in the wall.

Flourescent laundry

If it's sunny, you'd better take advantage of it. Even if it's in the middle of winter. Come to think of it, I really should do some laundry myself. Crud...

Christmas Decorations

Poetry war

While browsing Amir's pictures of Tajikistan, I feel as if I'm at home, looking back at a country I once visited, and actually feeling real longing. Time is drawing near, Muallima said today that she doesn't want me to leave. It's not that I'll leave her mostly jobless she said, it's more of losing an intimate friend.

She's not the only one pleading for me to stay.

'Do you really have to go?'
'Stay half a year more, or at least one month more!'
'But surely, you will come back?'

Inshallah, I say. If I find a job, why not. Tajiks usually don't pay a lot of attention to me initially, but once we get talking Tajiki, they don't want to let me go. I once accompanied D when he had to settle some things with the water bill. So we're sitting in the office and as soon as the guy handling the matter finds out I'm studying Tajiki, he stops writing and starts speaking to me, and soon his co-workers join in. Later, they didn't want us to leave, even saying that I should return. They must be really bored at work.

Winning an argument in Tajikistan is easy. You don't have to be logical, you don't even have to be a good speaker. Just learn some stanzas by heart from the Poets and you're invincible. Unless the other guy knows more of course. Debates are very interesting to watch, the one who can recite the most fitting poem by heart wins.

Once, I won a poetry war with Muallima, using her own poem by Sa'di against her. She found it highly entertaining. I really don't know that much poetry but heart, but I know some from Mawlana Rumi and from time to time I throw in some stanzas when I speak with her, much to her amusement. Now, if I can only recite a fitting stanza at the time of my examination, that would probably charm them into giving me a higher grade. (That or 30 bucks! :P)

Little gangsters

'If you wanna swear, swear to my face you wuss, don't go swearing to my friend, you hear me?' said the chubby little seven-year-old menacingly to his classmate.

No, I'm not making this up. Kids here are strange. You always see them beating each other up and fighting. Sure, when we were kids we used to beat each other up as well, but not like this.

During class today, we had to take a break because a terrible scream emanated from just outside the apartment door. Sounded like a child in excruciating pain. Muallima returned, beaming.
'I'ts nothing to worry about, the neighbour's just spanking her child.'
'But...for what? What did it do?'
'Oh, it just doesn't want to come in after playing in the snow...'

Of course, then we had an argument about spanking children. Muallima and I have quite alot of arguments, always ending in her getting pissed off and then trying to hurt my feelings in some (utterly pathetic) way. And then she wants my forgiveness for a week to come.

I'll probably miss all of this this when I'm out of here, but it's pretty tiring the way people here are so, backwards, for the lack of a better word (and how they are always so stuck up and easily-offended). They keep wondering why every other nation is ahead of them, and they think it's just material progress, but they never stop to think that that maybe, just maybe, they have to change their way of thinking regarding some things. Like spanking children, or wives for that matter. Muallima thinks its fully justifiable in some circumstances, like if the wife doesn't keep the house tidy enough for her husband.

Sometimes when she rants her nonsense (martyrs' bodies never rot, the water in Dushanbe is not making you sick etc), I just nod and smile. No need in upsetting her.

Horsemen

I don't really know why I took this photo but anyways, the guy on the left got the national Tajik headgear, the toqi.

Töy

So this is a picture from the Fortress of Hissor, and also, a töy. This word can mean to things in Tajiki, it can either mean a circumcision party for a boy and also a wedding party. As you can see on the picture, they play instruments and you always hear someone having a töy.

Snow-covered persimmons

They called off the power outage, I still don't know if it all was a rumour or not. But it doesn't really matter, they cut off our power supply most nights anyway, and sometimes during the day. Today it started at 6.30 A.M. and it'll probably continue to...God knows. Nothing is certain in Tajikistan. Well, maybe death. Definitely not taxes.

The diesel-powered heater we had broke, so now we're totally dependent on power to heat up the house. The other day I could see my own breath hanging in the air in the bathroom. Not a good sign.

So it's been snowing quite alot the past few days, and we still haven't picked our persimmons. Doesn't really matter, I can get better ones from the market for no money at all.

And I don't know why the text is jumbled all of a sudden. Stupid blog.