The newest fad here in Turkmenistan is lane dividers on the highway. Previously, I marveled at the smooth drivers that swerved every which direction to pass slow traffic on this road with unofficial speed limits and bribe prices. Now, with lane markers, I can see which lane we're not in. The long drives from city to city are all done by taxi (any car on the road you desire to flag down) or Marshutka, a big private van usually without shocks (likewise, flagged down). I love the convenience of picking up a ride anywhere but often feel like the drivers may want more than 5000 Manat, as I've had several hand-holding attempts and some lively discussions about the price. "How much?", I say after getting in. "What do you mean how much?" and a big, gold-toothed smile.
I haven't sampled trains, but if they're anything like Russia, I'll be enjoying either a drunk man, a snoring man, or a drunk, snoring man in my cabin at all times.
Walking would be the transportation favorite in most cases, but the sun makes long walks unbearable. A few people here have bikes, but they aren't used often. Motorcycles with side cars, (I haven't seen a motorcycle without a sidecar yet), are mostly for fun, and I'm not allowed to ride them anywhere.
The crazy thing is--there are airplanes that fly in-country. The planes are new and trustworthy, and flights are about $1.50 anywhere in the country. The trouble is finding a ticket in the world of family favors. A taxi from Balkan to Ashgabat takes 4 hours and costs $4.00. A flight takes 45 minutes and costs $1.50. Go figure.
I'm sure taxi story after taxi story could be written by anyone. Half of our lives here are taken up finding, bargaining for, and riding public transportation.
Next to taxis are buses. For the less wealthy and more time-available customer, a bus can be taken anywhere in our Welayat for 1,000 manat (10 cents). The buses range from a normal European packed-with-people bus to a downright frightening scabies-ridden deathtrap with holes in the floor and actual chairs sitting on wooden planks driven by the oldest living Turkmen in a country without prescription glasses. When buses pass mosques here, everyone does a short prayer by sweeping their hands across their face. They do it out of reverance for the mosque, and I do it to get help surviving the ride from anyone who'll listen to a bus full of Muslims. Of course, the bus driver does it long enough to take his hands from the wheel so the bus can slowly veer into a lane.
Nov 5, 2004
Nov 3, 2004
Essay #4 (Sewing)
Watching my sister sew makes me question the value of money. Here I am able to do little more than think with my college degree, and I can't imagine learning the intricacy of stitchwork. These patterns of thick, entirely stitch-filled swirls are worn as borders on the necks of traditional Turkmen dresses as well as around the ankle-cuffs of womens undergarments (and yes, their undergarments reach their ankles).
The dresses are simple, always covering shoulder and elbow, with a few different options of neckline. The popular fabric currently has very small flower print, though Americans have a hard time believing they could stand a full dress of small-pattern flowers. We buy the material for a few dollars at the bazaar, and for a few more dollars a sibling or family friend assembles a koynek. Some come out like potato sacks and others like princess gowns. In the villages this is the only acceptable attire. For formal affairs, such as a wedding, they bring out the similarly shaped dress made of decorative felt. While dresses on the whole met with some resistance, we soon found that if we had to wear long sleeves and skirts to the ankle, this was certainly the best and most comfortable option.
Men wear suits to everything, and boys from kindergarten on wear full suits to school. Too bad their behavior doesn't match their attire! Ironing is very "in" here, of course done every morning by the women of the house. The men wake up and shave themselves (which I believe if women could do for them, they would), returning inside to warmly ironed dress shirts and a hot breakfast. At school everyone's appearance is of utmost importance as can be observed on the Turkmen television station. Cleaned and pressed without a creative stitch to be found. If only the women could stitch art as opposed to well-established patterns, this place could make some money! Until then we'll all just wear matching outfits and call it a day!
The dresses are simple, always covering shoulder and elbow, with a few different options of neckline. The popular fabric currently has very small flower print, though Americans have a hard time believing they could stand a full dress of small-pattern flowers. We buy the material for a few dollars at the bazaar, and for a few more dollars a sibling or family friend assembles a koynek. Some come out like potato sacks and others like princess gowns. In the villages this is the only acceptable attire. For formal affairs, such as a wedding, they bring out the similarly shaped dress made of decorative felt. While dresses on the whole met with some resistance, we soon found that if we had to wear long sleeves and skirts to the ankle, this was certainly the best and most comfortable option.
Men wear suits to everything, and boys from kindergarten on wear full suits to school. Too bad their behavior doesn't match their attire! Ironing is very "in" here, of course done every morning by the women of the house. The men wake up and shave themselves (which I believe if women could do for them, they would), returning inside to warmly ironed dress shirts and a hot breakfast. At school everyone's appearance is of utmost importance as can be observed on the Turkmen television station. Cleaned and pressed without a creative stitch to be found. If only the women could stitch art as opposed to well-established patterns, this place could make some money! Until then we'll all just wear matching outfits and call it a day!
Nov 2, 2004
November 2 letter
Well, since that letter I’ve had another interesting experience. Went to a birthday party for a 16 year-old and the whole neighborhood came. Turns out—at your party you still serve the men first, and when each of them has food, you serve the women. Then you and your friends sit down Cinderella-style to eat the more plentiful foods (no fruits/vegetables) in the back room of the kitchen. I hate men here. I find myself falling into the same patterns.
Today was pretty enjoyable. My mother made fresh bread, which involves sticking your arms literally inside an oven and sticking dough to a wall. It hangs there and cooks! We all sat around and scarfed fresh bread and talked about our visiting half-crazy grandma. She can’t hear so someone always has to get up and yell right in her ear to answer her questions. While I was sewing once she asked me to mend something quick and then patted me on the head and kissed my cheek in thanks upon completion. I don’t think she really knows who I am though!
I’m used to the food again and haven’t been as sick as some other people. I’ve been annoyed with my American group-mates for various reasons, but I’m starting to see that’s inevitable. It’s how you deal with it that counts.
Well, I’m off to sleep. This will be dropped in the mail on the 3rd, so you’ll be seeing it hopefully before Thanksgiving!
[Rec’d 11/20]
Today was pretty enjoyable. My mother made fresh bread, which involves sticking your arms literally inside an oven and sticking dough to a wall. It hangs there and cooks! We all sat around and scarfed fresh bread and talked about our visiting half-crazy grandma. She can’t hear so someone always has to get up and yell right in her ear to answer her questions. While I was sewing once she asked me to mend something quick and then patted me on the head and kissed my cheek in thanks upon completion. I don’t think she really knows who I am though!
I’m used to the food again and haven’t been as sick as some other people. I’ve been annoyed with my American group-mates for various reasons, but I’m starting to see that’s inevitable. It’s how you deal with it that counts.
Well, I’m off to sleep. This will be dropped in the mail on the 3rd, so you’ll be seeing it hopefully before Thanksgiving!
[Rec’d 11/20]
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