December 31, 2012
Spent a very quiet day at the apartment just working on a
presentation on listening skills for the upcoming winter break workshop.
Nargiza had texted me the day before to indicate she was rescinding her New
Year’s Eve invitation as the family was traveling to visit her uncle.
Willoughby had invited me to spend the evening with her and two other Peace
Corps volunteers and I had agreed.
Douglas had mentioned he had no plans for the evening and I emailed
Willoughby asking her if she could include one more person to which she said
yes. We agreed to arrive at five to have time to talk before dinner and we both
offered to bring wine to contribute to her meatloaf, mashed potatoes and
gingered carrots menu.
I stopped at two Narodni supermarkets on the way to the
marshrutka and they both offered only non-alcoholic wine. Neither store
personnel could speak enough English to explain what had happened to their full
stock of alcoholic beverages. I called Willoughby to explain the situation and
offered to bring a cake instead, but she declined the offer saying she had
enough food for all of us already. I learned later on from Douglas that the supermarket chain had lost its liquor license.
As I waited for the minibus, I noticed a striking young
woman standing next to me with her six-inch stiletto booties covered in
rhinestones. I had to take her photo, fake eyelashes and all, and she gladly
complied. We boarded the same minibus and she insisted on paying my fare and
then handed me a piece of candy wishing me a new year, I surmised. I could see
that Ala-Too Square was overrun with people, mostly families with young
children, already celebrating the advent of the new year.
Take a look at those heels!
Douglas boarded the same minibus in front of the VEFA Center
and using his smart phone got us to Willoughby’s building, a decaying structure
inside and out, where she occupies a unit on the second floor. She pays $250.00
for a three-room flat full of darkness and as cold as an iceberg with little furniture
but the incongruous presence of an old piano. Her stove and fridge are located
in what used to be a balcony and lacks any source of lighting, so she uses a
flashlight to cook by.
We sat at a banquet and had ginger tea, sans cinnamon
sticks, and granola bars while waiting for Joanna, a Peace Corps volunteer of
Filipino origin, who had just returned from a trip to Armenia. The food was
delicious, especially the gingered carrots, and we even had gravy with it. I
had a glass of wine while we discussed the differences between participating in
the Peace Corps and being a fellow. Joanna is on her third year here and
indicated the city has changed substantially since she got here in 2010.
When asked if we were going to wait around until midnight,
Douglas said no as apparently he had other plans. I didn’t relish the idea of
hanging around for the silliness of breaking a bottle of champagne and wishing
for good things for the artificial construct that a new year is and indicated I’d
leave when Douglas was ready.
I decided to take a taxi from Willoughby’s house since I
didn’t want to walk in the darkness to my new place and didn’t want to risk
riding a new route and probably getting off at the wrong stop. Douglass negotiated
with the driver and got dropped off first. I got to read for a little while
aware all the time of the fireworks going off every few minutes.