Observations Part Vocem'

Clapping: At the end of talks or concerts people generally clap. Same here, except that they all clap in unison. It’s really, really, really funny. And simultaneously really awkward. It sounds like they’re all waiting for something grand or exciting to happen, or maybe to start creepily chanting together. Sometimes I feel like we’re in the middle of a slow-clap but then it never actually surfaces. It’s really strange.

Opera: A bunch of Americans and I have all been wanting to go to the opera and we finally planned a date, this Sunday. On a whim I decided I would go buy the tickets and I would buy them for everyone else. Alone. I don’t know what came over me that I could possibly accomplish this feat since I had no clue where the ticket office was, or what to say. I also realized this en route to the ticket office and that I couldn’t back out now since I was getting five people tickets. I think I was just having one of those confident days. Either that, or I’m just getting better in my abilities in taking on new challenges. I’d like to think it’s the latter, since I didn’t even really prepare anything to say (as I usually do with such tasks in a foreign language like this) I literally just strolled in. Well, once I found it. I had to phone a friend as to where the ticket office was, since it was so clearly marked. (Insert sarcasm there.) Anyways I walk in and start gabbing away with the woman and to my surprise she understands me and I understand her. Again, I tell her where we want to sit, what day, etc etc, and she understands me and I pay her the money, and I successfully bought tickets. I think I was so in shock that I managed this all on my own I stood there for a minute and then left. Anna: 6, Azerbaijan: 2918.

“Opera”: The only snafu in our exchange was the actual word “opera”. It’s funny how we understood each other in everything else except for the one word that is the same in both languages. I kept repeating “opera”, “opera” (in an English accent) and she was staring at me like I escaped from the local loony bin. Finally she realized what I was saying and said this exaggerated “ooooooppppeeerraaaaa”. Yes. That’s what I said.

Tights: All Azerbaijani women wear tights. All the time. Regardless of what they’re wearing or how hot it is. They wear tights underneath their jeans (seriously) and with their heels. They wear tights with skirts. They wear them when it’s 80 degrees out. By tights I really mean stockings, or nylons. But a lot of them do wear black nylons as well. I don’t mind nylons, even though I do think there’s kind of age to start wearing them, but I think that’s an American thing. Anyways, women all wear nylons every day here, and I’m really not in that habit so I refuse. That probably gives them reason to think I’m a prostitute, but where I come from, black tights on a Tuesday morning is not considered normal. Period.

The Metric System: This actually has more to do with the local European and English people I’ve encountered. Whenever we get into a discussion about something involved the metric system, so weight or distance, I always get the same question. They’ll be saying something like “well you get 5 liters to the ounce” and I respond, “I have no idea what that means… many ounces are in a gallon?” And then they’ll give me a disapproving stare and say “Why is it that America hasn’t switched to the metric system yet?” Oh, I don’t know. Let me tell our President that you would like the U.S. to switch and get back to you. Since we’re on a first-name basis and everything. He definitely doesn’t have anything else to worry about… war, economic crisis, falling dollar, nuclear weapons, health care… While it is a valid point that we’re behind everyone on this, complaining to me about it is not going to change anything. They also act like the fact that we’re not on the metric system is personally offending the world.

Suits: I’ve written at great length about what people wear here. I failed to mention that most of the stuff I wrote about was for younger people, generally around my age and younger. Once you hit about 25, I think it’s a requirement for men to wear suits. It doesn’t matter what the occasion is, how hot is it, how cold it is, where you are (desert, mountain, restaurant), you will wear a suit. I doubt the suits here are too expensive since they don’t look like they’re made out of the nicest materials, so I think that men have a variety of different suits. It really is almost comical. On our drive out to Ismayilli, all these men on the side of the road were wearing suits and wandering around in the desert, fixing various things. They couldn’t even take off the sport coat, they had to keep the whole thing on to get the whole look.

The Lada and the Niva: The two best Russian cars ever. Seriously. These babies can withstand just about anything. If you don’t know what a Lada is, google it immediately. They’re a pretty basic car that Russia began to manufacture during the Soviet Union and therefore their legacy is left scattered all throughout the CIS countries. They actually get pretty good gas mileage. As adhering to the true communist principles, there’s nothing fancy or nice about this car, it simply is a vehicle to get you from point A to point B. The most common color is white (I like to think this is also reminiscent of the communist era, in that anything more ostentatious than white sets you apart) but there’s also some lovely puce, maroon, and acid-green colors. Maybe everyone just gets white because the other colors are so ugly. There’s a sedan Lada and also a station-wagon Lada. A close cousin to the Lada is the Niva, which is hard to describe. It has 2 doors and is also simple in it’s design, and almost always comes in white. These two cars can literally get you anywhere you want to go- off-roading, through the mountains, down the street, or up the hill in ice. They’re also illegal in the U.S. since they fail every safety requirement we have. Nonetheless, they are great. They’re pretty prevalent here in Baku, but then they become just about the only cars you see if you leave Baku, which really just adds to their charm. One last thing about the Lada/ Niva: It could be manufactured in 1959 or 2009 and you would never know the difference, except for the rust. They have never once changed the design of the car.

“Staring Steve”: My friend and I came up with this little nickname on the ride out to Ismayilli since we noticed a recurring theme. When cooped up in one of these marshutkas sometimes men will discovered that if they look into their review mirror they can not only see the road behind them (like they’re supposed to) but also the passengers of the car. Shocking discovery, I’m sure. Anyways, sometimes these men decide it would be a great time to creepily STARE at any female they feel like. Sometimes this is the driver, which is an added bonus. Sometimes one of the guys in the passenger seats. Anyways, the best/ worst part about this is that if you catch them staring you (i.e. you make eye contact), they don’t guiltily look away- they just continue on staring. They feel no shame for blatantly staring at you. It’s almost like because it’s through the rearview mirror that it’s allowed and you can’t really catch them. Not so true. Staring Steve is an unfortunate ever-creepy reality here.