For one full day I didn't feel like I was missing anything. There are always good moments, hours, chunks of time here or there, but not usually a whole day. Natasha and I went to Krasnavosk to play a recital. We hopped on a taxi at 10:00 and were lucky enough to get our cassette played and even luckier to have it played at a moderate volume! The taxi driver was nice, though he lied and charged 5,000 more manat than agreed upon, but for the tape success, I let it slide. We checked out the music school there and found the room in which we would perform: the Ruhnama room. The Ruhnama is the Turkmen people's sacred texts written by our current leader T____ the Great. The room was small but very comfortable. Pink curtains covered the floor to ceiling windows giving everyone a cheerful glow. About 25 instruments from balalaika to two full tubas lined the walls of the room. I asked. They are all the instruments which used to be taught here but aren't anymore.
People crammed into the classroom-sized room. I won't lie--our playing was mediocre. The piano was difficult (but in tune!) and everyone was close enough to hear all the noises a violin makes up close (yikes.) But by the time we were done there was a crowd outside the door, people craning their necks to see in.
We were presented with personalized and stamped records (official stamps are huge here) which I was extremely excited about! I know they don't use old records (who's buying a record player when the old one breaks?) and I know I could make great educational use out of them in the states. I was also given a strange clay vase, which seemed like more of an afterthought. Some woman went back to her room and appeared with this gray vase most likely off a shelf and made a little speech. "I'd like to present this gift as a memory..."
After the presents the director asked for some kind of encore. We played Czardas which was a hit. Lots of applause. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an old man to my left with a comically red nose attempt to start the Russian we-all-clap-together thing. He was clapping so vigorously that he brought his arms out to a full 180 degrees before slamming them back together--rather like a walrus.
Natasha and I were charmed by the whole day. Krasnavosk is on the Caspian Sea and hilly. The buildings are more European and everything looks a lot calmer and more pleasant there.
We finally tore ourselves away from tea and went to find a cab home. Finding a cab is terrible--they swarm you like vultures. "Where are you going girls!?" "Nebitdag?!" "Ashgabat?!" This time, however, we had two good choices: a relaxing ride with 3 of us women for 40,000 or an amusing group of men containing a young police officer who used his whistle to get our attention and "directed traffic" with his black and white stick towards his taxi. Temptingly humorous, but we went with the woman passenger instead.
Not everything went perfectly, but it made the perfect day nonetheless.
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