Morning Freeze in the Afghan Capital

5 a.m. in my freezing cold hotel room at the Sufi Inn in Kabul. I have a steaming cup of tea next to me and am wrapped up in my patou and flannel PJs to keep warm. The electric heaters by my bed give some warmth but not enough to want to get out of bed. The big snowstorm that hit Kabul last week sent temperatures plunging way below zero and has left the city in a beautiful blanket of snow. Although the snow makes the city look lovely, it has been treacherous getting through icy streets and travel around the city is taking longer than usual. Yesterday, my group and I lumbered down an icy, rutted street in a small bus swerving and sliding slowly, trying not to slip sideways into another car or tip over completely.
Here I am again in Kabul, running a workshop for my students who came to my leadership camp last October. We call this a follow up workshop to see how they are doing after their experiece in India last year, and give them new skills and ideas for their work with youth in their communities. Since the kids have not seen each other for the past 5 months, they love being together again. Today is day 2 of the workshop and so far, so good.
Next week I am off to India to run another Youth Solidarity and English Language (YSEL) camp for a month. I’m very excited about this camp and am looking forward to a great month. I’ve already met some of the kids who are coming and they are looking forward to a fun month of learning. The biggest highlight of camp was to be a private audience with the Dalai Lama that I had arranged but some high muck-a-mucks in the US embassy freaked out about it and put the kibosh on it. I was so pissed off about it! Instead of looking at it as a learning experience for some Afghan youth, it had to be politicized by some idiots. Still I haven’t cancelled the appointment, so maybe my staff and I will go up and say hello. Details to follow.
So what about Turkmenistan you may ask. Well, all is quiet on that front as we await the outcome of the presidential elections (a no brainer there) and then maybe the Ministry of Education will grant me access back in to the country. Hopefully by the end of March when my camp ends I will get OK’d to go back in and continue my work there. Fingers crossed. In the meantime I have been getting up at 6 a.m. every day to talk to my office staff in Ashgabat and help then navigate our new program together. Now that I’m in Kabul, I don’t have to get up so early to talk with them since we are an hour’s time difference.
Somewhere in the distance I hear a rooster crowing. That poor thing must be cold if it’s out on the street. I think of all those poor people in the refugee camps around town that are trying to keep as warm as possible in these harsh conditions. Already many small children in the camps have frozen to death, such a shame. I hope it gets warmer soon. Yesterday seemed a bit warmer but still it gets so cold in the night. There is a large space heater like they have in outdoor restaurants in our dining space, which has become out main hanging out spot in the evenings. We all encircle it with our chairs and talk, sing and tell stories after dinner. It sort of happened naturally, no one planned it like that, and it’s a nice place to be. Last night we got a little carried away with our singing and a lady from London called the front desk to complain. So we’ll have to watch our singing in the future.
I have not heard the call to prayer yet this morning, as I usually do. Maybe I slept through it or it is too cold to go to the mosque. In a few hours we will begin our workshop with morning song, a few warm up games and then talk about the Bill of Rights (our theme for the day). We will look at the American Bill of Rights, the Afghan Bill of Rights and then create our own Bill of Rights. All in a day’s work. I’m going to take this quiet morning time now to get ready, catch up on some email and take advantage of the Internet while everyone is asleep (it’s faster early in the a.m.).

I Have an office in Ashgabat...

48A Gorogly Street, my office address in Ashgabat. It’s a place I dream to get back to one day

soon. Outside the snow is falling on the streets of New York and a world away, who knows what’s going on. Is there snow? Is the laundry hanging out on the line from the apartment building next door? Is Rashid, the shopkeeper blaring his music from his little store on the corner where I buy my afternoon chocolate? Are the throngs of families still waiting outside the big maternity

hospital across the street? I’m sure they are, for there is one thing I have learned about life…it goes on.
This unexpected delay in getting myself back into Wonderland is sort of a blessing in disguise. While I can provide support for my staff from the comfort of my kitchen, every morning at 6 a.m. via Skype, I’m also able to fully and completely enjoy New York City, at a calm pace. I’ve got a little routine going that begins at 6 a.m. with work and by lunch time I get out of the house for a bit, then come back and do some more work, and then go out in the evenings with friends or by myself to a film, dinner, whatever. I made a movie list and am slowly crossing things off the list as I see them. “Iron Lady,” “War Horse,” “My Week with Marilyn,” “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,” and there’s still more on the list. Plus there’s the theater but I haven’t taken much advantage of that. What I’m most enjoying is just being at

home and getting caught up on a variety of projects like getting rid of my old computers, clean the basement, do some sewing projects, organize my office, get rid of old papers, etc. Lulu is also happy that I’m home with her. She’s enjoying all the attention. The first month of the year is a perfect time of year for this kind of activity. January is always slow and a month for getting one’s self together.
Still I dream of the day when I can go through the looking glass once more, back to Wonderland

and all it’s interesting ways. I’ve exhausted all the reasons why I wasn’t let back in and they run the gamut:
1) Someone in the government read my blog
2) Someone didn’t like my karaoke singing
3) Someone didn’t like the fact I walked around the Presidential Palace and took some pictures
4) Someone didn’t like the fact that I spoke with a prostitute in a disco (For the record I complimented her on her shoes)
5) Because of presidential elections in February, they are limiting the number of foreigners coming in the country
6) It’s not about me at all, it’s just the Migration Service’s idea of a joke

I’ve got the US Embassy on my side and hopefully with their support (uh it’s their program so they should fight for me) I’ll be back in at the end of March. I remain confident that I’ll get back in then and be back with my people soon. In the meantime, I have my Afghans to attend to. I still am in charge of the YSEL camp, my leadership camp for Afghans that I run in India. We are doing a camp in February so I’m busy doing that as well. Will be off to Afghanistan beginning of February and then on to India. Looking forward to that.
The other day my office in Ashgabat had a New Year’s party and I had sent presents for

everyone through my colleague who was in DC last week. Everyone loved the gifts and it made me happy that I could bring them happiness from far away. Wish I was there in person to hand out the gifts but alas that was not to be. It’s nice to know though that I am missed across the

miles by a group of people in a three-storied house/office, covered in old grape vines, behind a tall, light blue apartment building with laundry fluttering in the cold January wind. I will get back there one day but for now I am there in my heart.

Persona Non Grata

Now I’ve been kicked out a bar before, but never out of a country! January 4th, I was supposed to return to Turkmenistan but the Migratsionnaya Sluzhba (Migration Services) who issue letters of invitation rejected me. Do they ever tell you why? No, that is one of the greatest mysteries of the Turkmen government. According to a friend of mine in Ashgabat, they are rejecting most people who want to come in to Turkmenistan, most likely because of the upcoming presidential elections and they are terrified of an Arab Spring scenario where their benevolent form of government and their exalted president are toppled. As if that’s what I plan to do while I’m there? I don’t think so.
My college prep program that I’ve spent much time working on to come to fruition will still go on. Today marks the first day of classes and I’m not there. It’s OK, I have an excellent staff, Lale and Gulshat, who are more than capable of running the show, and 4 excellent teachers who are trained and ready to go. Most likely I will not be going back to Turkmenistan until sometime in March, but I will go back for sure. We’ll see what happens. This is not the first time I’ve been in these situations of limbo, waiting for a higher power (like a governemental department) to make a decision so I can continue my work. I sort of like it because I have no power over the situation and one needs to just let it go and see what happens. It’s an attitude I’ve adopted over the years of working in Afghanistan. No need to worry about something that you can’t control. Meanwhile I have Plans B, C and D swirling around in my head, waiting to implement if need be.
So what does a boy do when he can’t get back into Turkmenistan? Well for this past week, he has been enjoying time at home with his cat Lulu and doing various projects on the long list of home projects to do. Since the weather has been warm the past few days, I’ve been taking advantage of it to do some garden work like making raised planter beds and putting together some benches from slats of wood from old planter boxes and composte bin. Come summer, my garden will be an idyllic place to sit. There’s more indoor projects to be done and when the weather starts acting like winter, I’ll stay inside to do them.
Another idea that popped in my head is some travel to Europe. The world is my oyster and why do I need to stay in one place all this time? It’s been a while since I’ve seen my peeps in France so I may just pop over to see them as well as friends in Brussels. Plus I’ve never been to Versailles and have an itch to go over and see it while I have the time. So why not? The next blog entry may just be from Gay Paree!

OH, You got my card!

I know who you are. You are one of the 130+ people on my Christmas list who has decided to

click on my blog to see what it’s all about. Well, let me start by answering the question on the card—Why am I in Turkmenistan?
I work for a non-profit educational organization (and have since my days in Russia 18 yrs ago) American Councils for International Education. They have sent me all over Central Asia on various programs, for the past 8 years I’ve been working on programs in Afghansitan. Now they have a new program in Turkmenistan, which they’ve asked me to work on--Prep4Success. It’s not really a new program, it’s just an improvement on many of the things we are doing there. Basically, I am developing and implementing a college prepatory course for senior high school students and those who have recently graduated from high school here and have yet to get in to a university or institute here in Turkmenistan. The options for higher education are few here and it’s very difficult to get accepted to the state university. Many students look for colleges abroad where they can get a higher education. Many want to study abroad but they don’t have the English level or knowledge base to be candidates for many univerisities and colleges abroad. That’s where I come in.
Prep4Success is a 3-month program for students to improve their already good English, develop critical thinking skills, prepare for standardized tests like SAT and TOEFL, and develop academic reading and writing skills. I’m the director of the program and am responsible for creating the curriculum, hiring the teachers, recruiting the 30 students for our pilot program and making the whole thing work. In the past month in Turkmenistan, my staff (Lale and Gulshat) and I have already hired 4 teachers, trained them in the teaching materials and recruited 30 students through a rigourous application process. There are many students who want to apply to the program but we are looking for students who are looking to further their education abroad and already have been looking at colleges and applying to them. Since this program is being funded by the US embassy here, the focus is on getting students to apply to US colleges. We will help them figure out the application process, improve their knowledge and make them better candidates for potential scholarships.
I love creating new projects and watching them grow and be successful, this is something I’ve done many times and always look forward to doing again and again. There is a lot of focus on this program and if it is successful (which I know it will be) there is interest in implementing it in other countries. I would love to see something like this work in Afghanistan for example.
Turkmenistan is not new territory for me, I’ve been here before. It is like stepping back into the time of the Soviet Union and there are many allusions to Wonderland. The capital is Ashgabat and the country is run by President Gurbanguly Berdymukhamedov. I will probably never meet him in person but it’s OK, I see him everyday, everywhere since his portrait is everywhere I go. Why he even made it on to my Christmas card (yes that’s who that man is behind me and the tree).
Anyways, please follow my travels and travails through Turkmenistan and other parts of the world like Afghanistan and India. My program officially begins on January 9th so I’m looking forward to that. While you’re waiting for what’s going to happen in Turkmenistan, you can read past posts and find out what I’ve already been up to. Happy reading, and Happy New Year everybody!!!

Dulcinea

After our office Christmas party in a seafood restaurant last Saturday, some of us decided to continue the party at the disco at the OguzKent hotel—the fancy-schmansy most expensive, VIP, elite, diplomats only hotel. Down in the basement, through a separate, side entrance, you don’t have to be a VIP to get in although they do have a gold rope outside ala some hot mnahattan night club with people clamoring to get in. Here though, there is no line of people, and as we descended into the nightclub, there were no people to speak of. The lights were flashing, the music pumping and beat on an empty dance floor. Groups of young guys were sitting around drinking beer, a guy and his girl were talking close in a booth in the back, there were two women talking and having a drink at the back of the bar, but there in the front part of the bar near the dance floor was she—Dulcinea. A vision of beauty in her white dress with a line of peacock feathers going around the mid-part of it, under her breast line as if to accentuate them, glittering rhinestone earrings and high, high black heels. The heels were rather thick as if to hold up this full-figured woman on a more solid foundation. Her hair wais a giant coif of beautiful black hair with long curled tresses falling to her shoulders and back. As we entered her eyes fixed on us, two local girls and three American guys, all dressed up for a night out. Joe and I were wearing our suits and ties, and Dulcinea’s eyes followed like a heat seeking laser as we crossed the empty dance floor to an empty table and some low-lying sofas. She turned all her attention our way, gazing intently, shift her dress as if to accentuate her already large chest and flicking one of her heeled feet crossed ever so elegantly to the beat of the music. She nursed her drink and sipped at it from a straw so as not to smudge her perfectly glossed lipstick.
She was sitting all alone, not because she preferred to be alone but she was on the prowl. This was her working turf and tonight’s pickings were not too good. The local Turkmen probably wouldn’t pay for her services and there weren’t many foreigners there who could pay more, that is until we stepped into the club. Perched on her high bar stool, our eyes would meet now and then and I would smile at her and she would smile back in a demure way. As my friends and I danced, I could feel Dulcinea’s eyes upon us. She was a vision of beauty and I wanted to go tell her how fantastic she looked this evening. That’s all I wanted to say. I didn’t want to pay for her services, just give her a compliment. Before I left the bar that night, I would approach her and let her know.
Dulcinea probably doesn’t have the easiest life, and having to get all dressed up and sit in a nightclub for hours hoping that you could meet someone and make some money is hard. Especially in a place like Ashgabat where the bar is filled with mostly local guys who seem to have more fun dancing with each other. As she sat there, looking our way, grooving to the music through her left leg, I wondered how other people in the place viewed her. Was she just seen as a local prostitute and ignored by everyone? Were people too afraid to approach her because she was a lady of the night? I knew what her story was, but I didn’t see her that way. I saw a beautiful, voluptuous young lady dressed to the nines, radiating beauty from her dark part of the nightclub.
After a few dances, I broke away from my friends and went over to say hello and compliment her. Her eyes widened with excitement and her smile got bigger as I approached. “Privet” we said to each other and over the loud techno music, I told her how fantastic she looked. Her dress was perfect and her shoes were fierce. She gushed a bit at my compliments and giggled like a
little girl. She said she couldn’t come to my table because I was with two other women but I told her I only came over to tell her how fabulous she looked. “Such beauty needs to be noticed and complimented,” I told her. She thanks me and I could see she was really happy from this male attention. I’m sure many of the men who come in here just look at her big breasts and long legs and want one thing, but I saw something else—feminine beauty, which needed to be celebrated and honored.
After I headed back to my table, I could see from across the room how my compliments affected Dulcinea. She was beaming and glowing, radiating happiness from her bar stool. The radiance seemed to sparkle out from her rhinestone earrings and shine from the ends of her curled black hair. Her leg seemed to flip more lively to the music and she even got a little beat going in her shoulders. I was happy I could make her happy and feel good about herself. As I left the nightclub, I went back to her and said goodbye, asking her name. “Svetlana,” she replied, “Thomas,” said I. We shook hands and I told her it was nice meeting her. Again she beamed, and I could tell that my attention and kind words were worth more to her than any $100 she’d make that night.

Painting the Roses Red

“We’re painting the roses red, We’re painting the roses red,” that’s the songthat has been going through my head as I walk around town watching people set up Chritsmas trees in fron to f the various ministries and other government buildings. The other night I saw soldiers stringing lights on all the pine trees in front of the KGB building, 2 young men on top of a cherry picker, fastening the lights to the top of the tree and two other soldiers on the ground guiding the strings down to the trunk, making sure the lights were in a straight line. It reminded me of the card soldiers painting the white roses red in Wonderland, for the queen didn’t like white roses. Here the mandate has come from on high that all government buildings must have a tree out in front and the big pine trees that line the streets must be decorated. A rather benign mandate and it makes the city look more festive than it already is. Many of the trees are fake ones, metal frames wrapped with green fuzzy plastic or the usual bristly plastic branches, but a few are made up of real pine. They have a special metal Xmas tree frame and shove branches or even small trees into the frame sideways so you get this nice, fragrant bushy tree rising to the sky. The official government tree, sort of like the one in Rockefeller Center, is being put up in front of the circus and is by far the tallest one in town. I saw them constructing it the other night and wonder how far they’ve gotten in their decorating. Should take a walk by and see. Many of the trees are done very neat and orderly and some are festooned rather sloppily with crooked garlands and lights, as if the men put in charge of decorating didn’t give a rat’s ass. I wonder if there is a prize for the best looking tree? Will the dear president walk around with a phalanx of flunkies, clasping clipboards and making notes of his comments on each tree, like some uber-important group of ladies judging a pie contest at a county fair? Will heads roll for sloppily decorated trees? I doubt that will happen, but here in Wonderland anything is possible.
Yesterday was Neutrality Day, the day when the UN officially recognized Turkmenistan’s neutrality back in 1995. Neutrality is a core component of the Turkmen constitution and the government prides itself on it. It basically means that Turkmenistan will not get involved in any wars or conflicts with its neighbors, sort of like the Switzerland of Central Asia. It was a lovely day for a walk so I decided to walk the town and see what exciting things were happening in honor of this holiday. Was there going to be a mass love fest with an appearance by my friend the president at one of the giant stadiums? Could I get a ticket and join the festively clothed masses clapping monotonously in unison? Would flags be waving in the breeze as the sun shone down on the glorious capital of Turkmenistan? No, no and no, nothing. I was rather surprised to see practically no one on the streets at all as I made my way through parks and up the wide boulevard that is Neutrality Street to the 40-legged statues (10 horses standing on a giant rock) and on to the “Disneyland” park and then to the Olympic center to find out about swimming in their pool. Hey Turkmens work 6 days a week and only have Sundays off, so I’m sure most people just wanted to stay at home and enjoy the extra day off. Plus Turkmens don’t like the cold so I’m sure many thought that it was too cold to go outside. Not I. I walked the streets happily taking pictures along the way, enjoying the fresh air and the beauty around me. There were lovers in the park, sitting on benches talking or walking down the tree lined alleys. I caught one guy making out with his girlfriend behind a bush, which made me happy to see people acting like human beings here. Actually there’s a lot of sex in cars that happens here, especially by the park by my house. My friend Kerim pointed it out to me one day as we were walking through the park, which surprised me but also made me happy that people were getting some action here in this repressive country. So 1950’s.
Being mostly the only person on the street, I really did feel like Alice in Wonderland, walking through parks as if I was about to come along the caterpillar on a mushroom amid the trees or the Mad Hatter’s tea party. With portraits of the president everywhere and gold domed buildings there is something surreal about this place. Happiness inside a hermetically sealed jar, keeping the reality of the world outside and living in a world of façade-like beauty. Where spectacular white marble buildings glisten with gold fronts and sparkling chandeliers hang in the lobbies inside, where fountains run all year round, all hours of the day and lights shine through parks magically. Yet nothing happens in many of these grand buildings like the Ashgabat movie theater or the drama theater; there is someone guarding the outside telling you that you can’t go in or you have to be someone special to get inside. It’s sort of like those people who buy nice furniture and don’t let you sit on it when you come over for they don’t want oyu to get it dirty. What’s the point of having all this then? Grand buildings and beautiful parks don’t pay the bills of the average Turkmen but I guess it keeps them happy. Is this what it feels to take Prozac? Who needs an anti-depressant when you can live in Ashgabat surrounded by beauty. So I guess that’s what neutrality is, shutting yourself off from the rest of the world, keeping out any contact with it by censoring the press, blocking the Internet and TV stations and give citizens one newspaper called “Neutral Turkmenistan” which is basically a recap of what the president did the previous day, with staged pictures. Like an ostrich with its head in the sand, Turkmenistan has decided to ignore the rest of us, but maybe that’s a good thing in the long run. Hey isolation has worked well for North Korea for so many years right? Who am I to decide what’s right and wrong for a nation, I’m just an educator plopped down in this place for a short time, not a politician.
The goal of my walk was to get to the Olympic Center to find out about swimming hours, which I did. I went to the grand entrance with its gold bust of Turkmenbashy only to find out I had to walk around to the back to get in the place. In order to swim here, I need a certificate from a dermatologist that I don’t have any skin disease and from my family doctor saying I am in fit condition to swim. Now how I go about that is going to be fun. I’m sure I can just pay a doctor for a spravka as cerificates are called here. These hurdles are important for me because if I don’t get in a routine of swimming, I’ll go completely bananas. After all that, I went to a salsa class that was organized by a guy from the embassy. He, Andrew, has a Sunday night salsa dance party every week that I’ve been meaning to go to since I got here but haven’t. I’m not a huge salsa fan but here there aren’t a lot of dance venues and God help me if I have to spend all my time in the techno land of the nightclub Florida, so maybe I’ll just make it a regular thing. Exercise, being social, having fun, maybe I’ll start a contra dance here too. Hmmmmm.

Adopting the Stray and other things

There comes a time in a cat person’s life when they make that decision to get attached to a cat. Mine was last night. There’s a cute little tabby that hangs out on my stairwell, sometimes she’s on the second floor but recently I’ve seen her snuggled on a chair my neighbor has out on the landing of the third floor, my floor. Like the black and white street cat on my street back home in Brooklyn, she is skittish and runs away whenever I walk by her. Last night I came home and she was snuggling on the chair on the landing. I walked by slowly, but she still darted off and down the stairs to watch me from a safer distance. The weather is starting to turn colder and she’ll probably need somewhere warm to sleep soon, if she already doesn’t have a place. Last night’s dinner involved a can of tuna fish so I decided this was it, this was the time I’m going to break down and share my tuna with this little cat. Once I do that, I know that there’s no turning back, the bond has been put in place and she’ll probably be hanging out on my soon more often. There are other neighbors who feed her but probably not as luxurious as canned tuna from Impash, the Turkish supermarket.
On Saturday it seemed the edict went out around town from the president or whomever up there to start putting Christmas trees up for the holidays. Since then, cherry pickers can be seen hovering over giant pine trees with workers throwing garlands and fastening coloured balls to the big branches. Where theren’t live trees, big, fake trees are put up. I’ve been taking pictures of these trees, hoping to get the right shot for my Christmas card. My dream shot is a tree in front of an official building with a giant portrait of the president behind it. The tree in front of the Ministry of Education would be the best shot but they don’t like you taking pictures of official buildings here so I may have to find another one. The “Rod dom” (Maternity House) across the street from my office just put up a tree and there’s a portrait of prezzy so that may just work.
Had my first night of teacher training last night and it seems we have a good batch of teachers. I hired four teachers and two dropped out the day before so I had to scramble to find two more. I managed to hire one more so I’m up to three right now. One more will come around I know. Unfortunately, the real good ones are too busy but the ones I found are just fine. They’ll be great I know it! We have two weeks of training and then I’m off to the US for the holidays—I can’t wait. I will probably need to do some shopping soon to get some Turkmen souvenirs for everyone back home, and possibly a rug or two to stuff in my bag. Can’t wait to be on the plane flying home. I’m enjoying my time here and people are great but it’ll be nice to be at home for the holidays. As much as I am looking forward to going home, I’m also looking forward to coming back and starting my program with our first batch of students.