Observations Part Pyat'

Smoking: Only men smoke here, and from what I’ve gathered all men smoke. And by smoke I mean they all pretty much chain smoke. I thought that the guy in charge of me didn’t smoke since he never lit up in the car but then I saw him smoking outside one of the buildings one day. Sometimes the cab drivers will ask if it’s ok if they smoke in the car, which strikes me as pretty polite. All the bus drivers smoke, which is especially detrimental when you’re located near the front of the bus and stuck in traffic.
Apparently women smoke, but only indoors. I’ve actually seen this proven. At the upscale ex-pat/ rich Azerbaijani café I’ve seen women smoking. And they chain smoke too. It’s a really lovely habit.
The one funny thing I have to say about the smoking here is the cigarette cartons. In the States they have big warnings on the cartons that will say “WARNING: Smoking causes cancer of the lungs, birth defects, etc.” Here, they have warnings but they’re a bit different. The typical cigarette carton warning here is: “WARNING: Smoking causes ageing of the skin.” Right. As if that’s your only problem if you’re smoking.

Pomegranates: I’d never tried a pomegranate before and my friend here made me try one since they’re a local fruit. They’re a bit tough to eat, but I’ve discovered they might be the most delicious fruit ever. How I’ve never had one before is beyond me. You have to cut it open but once you start eating the little sour red seeds… it’s so worth it. I wish they were plentiful in the U.S. since I’m going to start eating them regularly here. I could seriously eat them in lieu of cheesecake for dessert, they’re that good. Now I’m craving one.

Redheads: I’ve described the typical features of Azerbaijanis, so this subject might seem a little strange. I would never have guessed I would see redheads in Azerbaijan but there’s actually a fair amount. Not the ginger-flaming-red-hair type, but something closer to my hair color. I’ve made the mistake of thinking they’re a foreigner but then when I hear them jabbering away in Azerbaijani I realize I’m mistaken. I still don’t get this.

License Plates: Azerbaijan has the typical European-esque license plates. A blue plate means a Taxi. Yellow means public transportation (with some exceptions, which I haven’t figured out). Red is diplomatic, and if you’re embassy-savvy you can tell which country by the numbers. However, I just recently noticed that ALL the license plates begin with either 90- or 10-. I find this surprising since there’s only 7 numbers/ letters on the plate, so the possibilities seem a bit limited when every car has those two numbers in the beginning. Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were several license plates that are repeated.

Men giving up seats: I touched briefly on this before with my bus etiquette section, but I just want to reiterate it. It’s been happening more and more frequently as I take public transportation. In the past three days on at least one method of transportation I’ve had a man either get up for me, or make sure I find an empty seat on a bus. The other day some men were gesturing for my attention (and I was ignoring them at first, the skeptical person that I am) and it turns out they were adamant that I sit down in the empty seat in the front of the bus. Today a man got up for me on the metro. It happens really often. Sometimes I’ll look around on the bus/ metro and it’s usually only men standing. The states could take some lessons from Azerbaijan in this department.

Foreigners: Since Baku isn’t exactly your typical tourist spot, there aren’t many foreigners here. This also means that foreigners are increasingly easy to spot. I’ve taken to playing a little game in my head guessing what country a foreigner is from until I’m close enough to hear the language. The two biggest groups of foreigners here are Brits and Germans. I also tend to feel a bit of an affinity for any foreigner I see since I know they probably feel just as out of place as I do. The best part is that now that I’m starting to feel at ease walking around here, and I see confused men wandering around in obviously American clothing trying to find the bars. It makes me feel a bit more accomplished since I’m a young woman who has grasped the city and they haven’t yet.

My name: As I’ve already mentioned, my name means ‘mother’ in Azerbaijani. But beyond that it seems that it’s a bit difficult for most Azerbaijanis to grasp, and I’ve become ‘Ann’ to half the women at the academy. I don’t really mind this, to be perfectly honest, since it actually happened a fair amount in the States. I don’t get why everyone insists on calling me ‘Ann’ but here I figure it’s close enough to my name to not correct. One of the annoying things about my name though is the similarity to the Russian word for ‘she’. (She in Russian is pronounced ‘ah-na’, and I usually introduce myself as ‘Ahh-na’, if that makes any sense.) Anyways, a lot of time when I’m sitting around I can’t figure out if the other teachers are talking about me, or talking about another female and using the word ‘she’. It also means that when I walk around I keep thinking I’m hearing my name. Combine that also with the Azeri meaning of my name, and I’m totally confused. If only my name was something whole-heartedly American, like Jessica. Although I supposed that actually has its own drawbacks since no one knows how to pronounce that here.

Change collectors: At the front of the bus there’s usually a man, but sometimes a boy, who stands there and helps coordinate when to stop the bus, how long to wait at stops, and help collect the fares. On the buses you pay once you get off, and if you exit the bus from one of the back entrances you have to run up and give it to the change collector. This is helpful when the bus is crowded and there’s like five people standing in front of the driver. However, I don’t get if these men work independently from the buses and maybe get a cut at the end of the day, or if they’re commissioned by the transportation companies (if that exists?). It’s also strange because the age in these men varies so much. Sometimes it’s a guy younger than me, a guy my age, or a 40-something man. They also sometimes like to hang out the side of the bus and yell at pedestrians (no clue what they’re saying) or chat with the other men who are pseudo-in charge of these buses. They also ‘advertise’ their bus (or I think they are) and try to get as many people on as possible. This whole system confuses me but when I’m on the bus I pretend it’s all totally normal.

My boyfriend: I’ve officially had it with the marriage questions. Today I faced a slew of more questions. One of my co-workers showed me a picture of her kid and asked if I was married and then asked ‘well don’t you want to be in love someday?’ Subtle. I’ve actually encountered a couple of men who understand my desire to not be married. However, they don’t understand how I don’t have a boyfriend who’s waiting for me in the States. And once they get wind of this, it’s an open invitation to ask five million questions about my personal life in addition to my e-mail and phone number. I try to skate around this. I think it’s time I make up a boyfriend back home. I don’t condone lying but if I say I have someone waiting for me back home, it’s technically true- I just haven’t met him yet. Minor detail. I might test this out soon.

The Metro: I’ve lived in three major cities in my life: Boston, St. Petersburg, and Washington, D.C. In every city (albeit Boston doesn’t really count since about 4 people use the T) those who are getting on wait for the passengers to get off. This was even true in St. Petersburg, bless their Russian hearts.
Not here. Which is actually surprising, considering Bakuvians’ love for hospitality and kindness. But getting into a metro car is every man for himself, including trying to get off the car. It gives new meaning to the phrase ‘throw them ‘bows’ (elbows, for you older folk). You have to forcibly push past people to get off the car and same to get on. I made the mistake of trying to wait for someone to get off this morning until I noticed that everyone was surging ahead so I just followed suit. I only just made it onto the train.

Trip to the Academy: I was asking around on Monday how to get to the Academy via public transportation since a) I felt bad always asking to get a ride and b) I figured I wouldn’t have to sit around and wait hours for my one mere lesson if I could get there on my own time. So this morning I plucked up the courage and decided today was the day I would attempt the trip. While it’s walkable from my apartment to the metro, it’s much faster to get on a bus if in a hurry, so I started off my journey on a quick bus ride down to the metro. If it’s rush hour, this bus ride takes about a half an hour. I figured 8:30 would mean rush hour. Apparently not. My bus ride was under 10 minutes and so then I started leg #2- the metro.
The metro arrived right away and I had to go 5 stops. Again, this can sometimes take about half an hour if it’s rush hour. Again, I was wrong in my estimating time, since this took about 12 minutes.
After the metro ride I had to find bus #160, #171 or #24. I found bus #160 (it took me a little while) and it departed pretty quick. This bus ride took about 25-30 minutes.
All in all, I gave myself 2 hours to get there, and it took a little over an hour and that’s because I dallied a bit in finding the bus. Clearly I got to the Academy way too early this morning. BUT- I did it! All on my own! And the total cost of the entire trip is 65 geppik- so like 72 cents. Amazing how cheap public transportation is here.