Did that Just Happen?!

I am starting a section here called “Did That Just Happen?!” in regards to the daily things that occur to me while in Azerbaijan which leave me shaking my head and thinking, ‘Did that really just happen?!’ I came to the conclusion one day these small transactions are what epitomizes life in a different culture. Sometimes I find it difficult to explain (not just in Azerbaijani but also in English) why living in Azerbaijan is so different than living in America. There are times where the culture differences are vast and easy to point out. But sometimes, it is the fleeting observation of table manners that makes me chuckle, or chasing down a mashrutka in a taxi that leaves me thinking, ‘Whoa, I am not in America.’

Runaway Mashrutka
To preface this story, a mashrutka is a small bus, usually ten to 12 passengers which is used for both in-city travel at twenty cents a ride and from city to city at about three to six dollars a ride. (I am fairly certain mashrutka is actually a Russian word, but I am not sure there is a different Azeri word for it. Or if there is, no one uses it.)
My friend Rikki and I were on our way back to Goychay from a neighboring region where we were visiting another volunteer for the weekend. We picked up a taxi in the city center to take us the fifteen minutes out to the highway where we were catching a mashrutka as it passed on its way to Goychay. After the taxi driver had to take his little boy home for lunch first, we headed off to the highway anxiously checking our watches as we were getting close to the time the bus should have been driving by. Sure enough, as we pull up to the road, we see a blue mashrutka in front of us on the road. Rikki tells the driver she thinks that is the bus we need to be on, and without hesitation a pursuit ensues. Within about ten minutes of driving like a bat out of hell and passing multiple cars along the way, our taxi man had honked enough to flag down the mashrutka. Unfortunately it was filled to capacity, but the driver took pity on us and made other people share seats so we could board. As we were safely returning to Goychay, Rikki and I chatted about how when we both came to Azerbaijan, that ride would have scared the living daylights out of us and neither one of us probably could have appreciated it. We drove fast (really, really fast) and were allowed on a bus with no room or seats for two women plus backpacks. But in America, we would have simply just missed the bus, and that would not have been much fun either. I had to get to back to school. So for one of the many moments of, “Did that just happen?!” I was really glad it did.

Eggshells
There are a lot of beliefs in America about what will make you sick and what will make you healthy. Eat fruits and vegetables. Don’t eat butter and salt. Wear sunscreen and your seatbelt. Don’t listen to music too loud, etc. Azerbaijan has what feels like a thousand ideas about sick and healthy items. Unfortunately for me, they are usually near opposite to America’s. Sometimes I just don’t believe them. Sometimes I want to try them. And sometimes, I just shake my head and steer clear. One item for good health I shake my head at is eggshells. For about a week we had a bag of cracked eggshells hanging up in the kitchen. I figured they were being used for compost or something regarding the multiple animals and plants we have hanging around. But about a week later, I was enlightened to their use. My host sister-in-law put them through the meat grinder a few times and ground them to almost a powder, added a bit of milk, and fed them to the one year old baby for important vitamins. Ick. I’ll pass on the eggshell paste.

Child rearing practices
While we have been guesting at other people’s houses lately for birthdays and holidays and such, the two year boy has been especially frustrating. He is in an attention, terrible twos, wild stage. Lately, this includes wanting anything and everything other people have. As he is normally indulged in what he wants, I was not terribly shocked when he had half a glass of wine at dinner. My host sister-in-law said he was just showing off and would not like it anyway. I agreed, but after he had a few drinks, and then downed the whole glass, I’m not sure it was just to show off. And afterwards, if he was falling down because he has bad balance or because he was three sheets to the wind, no one will ever know.