Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
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)
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)
Thursday, December 07, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
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.
Monday, December 04, 2006
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.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Winter
The weather is colder now -- summer turned into winter in the course of a week, so fast that the trees still got green leaves on them. It's not a Swedish winter by any means (more like Swedish autumn) but by the Dushanbian's complaining you'd think they were talking about Siberia.
The power will be out in the whole country for the next few days. Something about another power plant being opened. Most of the electricity in Tajikistan comes from a hydro-electrical power plant, and now they are getting two of them. But they still have power shortages and during winter, electricity is scarce. According to rumours, the state has enough electricity to supply the whole republic, but instead they cut it off and sell it to nearby countries.
The other day my teacher took me to the Fortress of Hissor, about an hour from Dushanbe. It was very interesting, and I took some pictures but nothing that I can be bothered to upload at the moment. There was a guide there that gave some general information about the historical significance of the fortress, but Muallima always reprehended him: 'Stop using Russian words, speak Tajiki!'. Alas, they always use too much Russian words: uzhun, abed, svet, svetafor, plitka, sir, lamp etc etc ad absurdum. I've noticed the the Tajik of some is really poor, when they speak in Tajik it´s like they are trying to speak to me in a foreign tongue and ca 50 % of the words are still Russian, and some have even said that they wished they could as good Tajik as I do.
In the vicinity of the fortress, there's some kind of big fish Sufi leader buried, so we paid him a visit. Muallima went inside and a mulla there started to pray, the fun thing was that a part of a prayer went like this 'And may all of our family members be healthy and may the women never go unveiled'. (Muallima doesn't wear a veil). She paid that jerk 5 Somonis. (It's alot.)
TV Update: Talk shows are interesting. They are like contests where the one who can quote most poetry wins. And everyone drops cliches like crazy. Once, it was about the Tajiki language and a professor said: 'Yes, and even the Tajiki spoken on TV is bad.' The two talk show hosts turned to him and said: We hope we haven't made you tired with our bad Tajiki.
Music videos are still boring.
News in English: I watched it with Muallima;
What are they saying?
I don't know.
I thought you knew English.
I do, but this isn't English.
There is also news in Arabic, hilarious.
Marshrutka and bus update:
I now understand what they say, most of the time. The dialect here in the south is strange, short u becomes ö. Not long like in the northern part of the country, like in röz (day) but shorter, eg. Daro kösho! (Open the door!). Sometimes on the bus, if you show them your card, they get a little bit angry because they were expecting money.
I like the Tajik way of talking to strangers, for men it's 'aka' (older brother) and for women 'apa' (older sister). It can also be used for waiters/waitresses. You can also add 'jon' (dear) to make it more loving. So for instance, if your on the bus and an older man comes on you can say 'Akajon, shined' (literally, My dear older brother, please sit here). Funny thing is, while they are seating themselves they constantly repeat 'shin shin shin´ (no, no, no, you sit).
Luckily, they aren't as ardent as the Persians in their ta'arof... Strange thing is, now most people now speak Tajiki to me, and of course it makes me very glad. (I don't know why all of a sudden everyone does it, but it sure is fun.)
Once on the bus the ticket-guy that was older than me called me aka...according to Muallima, it's usually not the custom to call people your age or younger 'aka'. Still, it's nice to live in a world where everyone is your older brother or sister, and for Tajiks it really is like that, the other day F and I were looking for a house and asked for directions from an old woman, who happily gave us them and then invited us for a cup, or rather, piyola, of tea at her house. Of course, cities do something to people so it's not so prevalent here as it is in the villages.
The power will be out in the whole country for the next few days. Something about another power plant being opened. Most of the electricity in Tajikistan comes from a hydro-electrical power plant, and now they are getting two of them. But they still have power shortages and during winter, electricity is scarce. According to rumours, the state has enough electricity to supply the whole republic, but instead they cut it off and sell it to nearby countries.
The other day my teacher took me to the Fortress of Hissor, about an hour from Dushanbe. It was very interesting, and I took some pictures but nothing that I can be bothered to upload at the moment. There was a guide there that gave some general information about the historical significance of the fortress, but Muallima always reprehended him: 'Stop using Russian words, speak Tajiki!'. Alas, they always use too much Russian words: uzhun, abed, svet, svetafor, plitka, sir, lamp etc etc ad absurdum. I've noticed the the Tajik of some is really poor, when they speak in Tajik it´s like they are trying to speak to me in a foreign tongue and ca 50 % of the words are still Russian, and some have even said that they wished they could as good Tajik as I do.
In the vicinity of the fortress, there's some kind of big fish Sufi leader buried, so we paid him a visit. Muallima went inside and a mulla there started to pray, the fun thing was that a part of a prayer went like this 'And may all of our family members be healthy and may the women never go unveiled'. (Muallima doesn't wear a veil). She paid that jerk 5 Somonis. (It's alot.)
TV Update: Talk shows are interesting. They are like contests where the one who can quote most poetry wins. And everyone drops cliches like crazy. Once, it was about the Tajiki language and a professor said: 'Yes, and even the Tajiki spoken on TV is bad.' The two talk show hosts turned to him and said: We hope we haven't made you tired with our bad Tajiki.
Music videos are still boring.
News in English: I watched it with Muallima;
What are they saying?
I don't know.
I thought you knew English.
I do, but this isn't English.
There is also news in Arabic, hilarious.
Marshrutka and bus update:
I now understand what they say, most of the time. The dialect here in the south is strange, short u becomes ö. Not long like in the northern part of the country, like in röz (day) but shorter, eg. Daro kösho! (Open the door!). Sometimes on the bus, if you show them your card, they get a little bit angry because they were expecting money.
I like the Tajik way of talking to strangers, for men it's 'aka' (older brother) and for women 'apa' (older sister). It can also be used for waiters/waitresses. You can also add 'jon' (dear) to make it more loving. So for instance, if your on the bus and an older man comes on you can say 'Akajon, shined' (literally, My dear older brother, please sit here). Funny thing is, while they are seating themselves they constantly repeat 'shin shin shin´ (no, no, no, you sit).
Luckily, they aren't as ardent as the Persians in their ta'arof... Strange thing is, now most people now speak Tajiki to me, and of course it makes me very glad. (I don't know why all of a sudden everyone does it, but it sure is fun.)
Once on the bus the ticket-guy that was older than me called me aka...according to Muallima, it's usually not the custom to call people your age or younger 'aka'. Still, it's nice to live in a world where everyone is your older brother or sister, and for Tajiks it really is like that, the other day F and I were looking for a house and asked for directions from an old woman, who happily gave us them and then invited us for a cup, or rather, piyola, of tea at her house. Of course, cities do something to people so it's not so prevalent here as it is in the villages.
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