Life down in the Rabbit Hole
Two weeks have now passed since I fell down the rabbit hole. Things have been going 
just fine with my project; my staff of two, Lale and Gulshat, and I have bonded and gotten our project formed and ready to roll, we’ve hired teachers, done presentations for students, and now waiting for applications to come rolling in. We will do all our selection before I go home for Christmas so when I come back in January, we will begin to officially start PREP4SUCCESS, the college prep course I’ve designed and will implement.
While things at work are what they seem, the more I stay here, the crazier this place seems. While there is that sense of everything is alright, there is the dreaded sense that you are being watched and trailed all the time. A friend of mine told me
the reason they don’t allow a lot of foreigners into Turkmenistan is that they don’t have enough KGB agents to keep tabs on us. I thought it sounded absurd, ut this is an absurd place so why not. Agents, like the packs of cards the Queen had for guards, running about fulfilling the demands of the apparatus that pulls the strings. There are many crazy rules here that I’m finding out like rules about cars: your car must always be clean or they fine you, no honking your horn (both of those I admit aren’t that bad but taking one’s license away and a heavy fine? Really?), foreign men cannot date local girls, all foreigners must be at home at 11pm, no walking around after 11—take a taxi please. Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more as we go along, don’t you worry. These are just some of the crazy rules that I’ve run across. You never quite know all the rules here so for fear of breaking one, it’s best not to do anything rash, like take a picture of a building!
I’m sure one of the most sacred rules here is that every organization, company, store, establishment must have a prominently displayed picture of the president of
Turkmenistan. That man is everywhere! And it’s usually the same picture, him sitting at his desk, pen in hand as if he’s signing some important document. I feel I know this man so well, given I see his face hundreds of times a day, on big TV screens placed in squares downtown, hanging above ministry doorways, gazing out from window displays in the main department store. It’s almost like protecting yourself from the nefarious KGB entity that looms behind the scenes. If you have a picture of the president, it means you are loyal and they’ll leave you alone. He is a benevolent looking guy, at least when you see him on TV returning from a foreign trip to applauding ministers with giant bouqets in their hands, or when he appears at the staged mass performances in stadiums. Who knows what lurks behind that smile and those nice suits? I would like to one day meet this man, just for the experience of meeting him. Perhaps I will one day wander in to the rose garden to find his minions repainting the roses and get an audience and a game of croquet with him. I doubt it, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll wind up in the Independent Turkmenistan newspaper with screeching headlines about Tom Toomey meeting the president. The front page picture of him in his typical picture, sitting in his chair facing right while my picture would be on the right side of the page, as if we are having a conversation, with a bunch of drivel and hyperbole wedged between us that takes up all of page 1 and some of page 3. That’s all the paper is about anyway, him—all four pages of it. A far cry from the NY Times I must say!
Monday December 5th, the beginning of my official 3rd week here in Ashgabat and I’ve already managed to get into the social scene here so I’m staying at home every night of the week. My colleagues and I go out every Friday night to a different restaurant,
which breaks up the monotony a bit. Last Friday we went to a new fried chicken place, followed by some karaoke at Shazada and dancing the night away at the club Florida. The chicken was OK, a very KFC kinda place, the karaoke bar was fabulous and they demanded us back. My colleague Joe rocked the place with his singing, and I wowed the place by singing some Russian songs (actually sang better than in English but “Black Magic Woman” the song I was asked to sing, isn’t the most dynamic song). Florida was a reminder of how I do not miss going to loud nightclubs with annoying flashing lights. It was also a reminder that I was back in a place that allows smoking in the club, so I went home stinking like an ashtray. I think I found one of my favorite cafes in town, “Shokoladnitsa” or “Chocolate café”. Serving delicious savory and sweet pastries, cakes and rolls, it’s a lovely place to meet and hang out for a while with a big pot of tea and some fresh treats. I was there both on Saturday and Sunday!
Went to my friend Kamal’s house on Saturday night for a delicious meal of manty, homemade meat dumplings-YUM YUM! Kamal’s mom added some pumpkin with them, which made them extra tasty. I wound up spending the night at his place, after watching 2 movies. I’m supposed to sleep in my apartment every night (one of the other rules/laws) so I hope the police didn’t give me a ring while I was asleep on Kamal’s couch. So sue me for breaking the rules! It is nice to have friends here already that I can hang out with, makes this unwelcoming place more welcoming. Next time I’ll go over, Kamal’s mom will show me how to make lagman, Central Asian noodles. We’ll sit around rolling out the dough like very fine thread before we throw it in the pot to boil. I can’t wait! Kamal is one of my former students who wound up in Charlevoix, Michigan, the summer place of my family, and the first student of mine I ever visited in the US. Over the years we have seen each other, in Kyrgyzstan where he went to school, here in Ashgabat and also New York. Now he is gearing up for the next phase of his life, marriage. He has built himself a beautiful little house in what used to be the garden of his family’s house. Very spacious and modern for him and his future wife. He has a girlfriend, I believe I’ve already written about her, but the parents don’t know they’ve been dating 4 years. They don’t want the pressure from both sides to get married. It’ll happen when they are ready. Soon his kitchen will be done, the rooms furnished, the bathroom complete and then he’ll be ready to marry. I hope I’ll be here in Ashgabat to witness it. I think he’s been waiting for me to get here to start the process rolling. I like this girlfriend better than the last one, so I’ll be happy when Kamal and Enesha get hitched. Never been to a Turkmen wedding!
just fine with my project; my staff of two, Lale and Gulshat, and I have bonded and gotten our project formed and ready to roll, we’ve hired teachers, done presentations for students, and now waiting for applications to come rolling in. We will do all our selection before I go home for Christmas so when I come back in January, we will begin to officially start PREP4SUCCESS, the college prep course I’ve designed and will implement.While things at work are what they seem, the more I stay here, the crazier this place seems. While there is that sense of everything is alright, there is the dreaded sense that you are being watched and trailed all the time. A friend of mine told me
the reason they don’t allow a lot of foreigners into Turkmenistan is that they don’t have enough KGB agents to keep tabs on us. I thought it sounded absurd, ut this is an absurd place so why not. Agents, like the packs of cards the Queen had for guards, running about fulfilling the demands of the apparatus that pulls the strings. There are many crazy rules here that I’m finding out like rules about cars: your car must always be clean or they fine you, no honking your horn (both of those I admit aren’t that bad but taking one’s license away and a heavy fine? Really?), foreign men cannot date local girls, all foreigners must be at home at 11pm, no walking around after 11—take a taxi please. Oh, I’m sure I’ll find out more as we go along, don’t you worry. These are just some of the crazy rules that I’ve run across. You never quite know all the rules here so for fear of breaking one, it’s best not to do anything rash, like take a picture of a building!I’m sure one of the most sacred rules here is that every organization, company, store, establishment must have a prominently displayed picture of the president of
Turkmenistan. That man is everywhere! And it’s usually the same picture, him sitting at his desk, pen in hand as if he’s signing some important document. I feel I know this man so well, given I see his face hundreds of times a day, on big TV screens placed in squares downtown, hanging above ministry doorways, gazing out from window displays in the main department store. It’s almost like protecting yourself from the nefarious KGB entity that looms behind the scenes. If you have a picture of the president, it means you are loyal and they’ll leave you alone. He is a benevolent looking guy, at least when you see him on TV returning from a foreign trip to applauding ministers with giant bouqets in their hands, or when he appears at the staged mass performances in stadiums. Who knows what lurks behind that smile and those nice suits? I would like to one day meet this man, just for the experience of meeting him. Perhaps I will one day wander in to the rose garden to find his minions repainting the roses and get an audience and a game of croquet with him. I doubt it, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll wind up in the Independent Turkmenistan newspaper with screeching headlines about Tom Toomey meeting the president. The front page picture of him in his typical picture, sitting in his chair facing right while my picture would be on the right side of the page, as if we are having a conversation, with a bunch of drivel and hyperbole wedged between us that takes up all of page 1 and some of page 3. That’s all the paper is about anyway, him—all four pages of it. A far cry from the NY Times I must say!Monday December 5th, the beginning of my official 3rd week here in Ashgabat and I’ve already managed to get into the social scene here so I’m staying at home every night of the week. My colleagues and I go out every Friday night to a different restaurant,
which breaks up the monotony a bit. Last Friday we went to a new fried chicken place, followed by some karaoke at Shazada and dancing the night away at the club Florida. The chicken was OK, a very KFC kinda place, the karaoke bar was fabulous and they demanded us back. My colleague Joe rocked the place with his singing, and I wowed the place by singing some Russian songs (actually sang better than in English but “Black Magic Woman” the song I was asked to sing, isn’t the most dynamic song). Florida was a reminder of how I do not miss going to loud nightclubs with annoying flashing lights. It was also a reminder that I was back in a place that allows smoking in the club, so I went home stinking like an ashtray. I think I found one of my favorite cafes in town, “Shokoladnitsa” or “Chocolate café”. Serving delicious savory and sweet pastries, cakes and rolls, it’s a lovely place to meet and hang out for a while with a big pot of tea and some fresh treats. I was there both on Saturday and Sunday!Went to my friend Kamal’s house on Saturday night for a delicious meal of manty, homemade meat dumplings-YUM YUM! Kamal’s mom added some pumpkin with them, which made them extra tasty. I wound up spending the night at his place, after watching 2 movies. I’m supposed to sleep in my apartment every night (one of the other rules/laws) so I hope the police didn’t give me a ring while I was asleep on Kamal’s couch. So sue me for breaking the rules! It is nice to have friends here already that I can hang out with, makes this unwelcoming place more welcoming. Next time I’ll go over, Kamal’s mom will show me how to make lagman, Central Asian noodles. We’ll sit around rolling out the dough like very fine thread before we throw it in the pot to boil. I can’t wait! Kamal is one of my former students who wound up in Charlevoix, Michigan, the summer place of my family, and the first student of mine I ever visited in the US. Over the years we have seen each other, in Kyrgyzstan where he went to school, here in Ashgabat and also New York. Now he is gearing up for the next phase of his life, marriage. He has built himself a beautiful little house in what used to be the garden of his family’s house. Very spacious and modern for him and his future wife. He has a girlfriend, I believe I’ve already written about her, but the parents don’t know they’ve been dating 4 years. They don’t want the pressure from both sides to get married. It’ll happen when they are ready. Soon his kitchen will be done, the rooms furnished, the bathroom complete and then he’ll be ready to marry. I hope I’ll be here in Ashgabat to witness it. I think he’s been waiting for me to get here to start the process rolling. I like this girlfriend better than the last one, so I’ll be happy when Kamal and Enesha get hitched. Never been to a Turkmen wedding!
posted by Tom T at 6:01 PM
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