Dumb ex-pat

The other day in a tiny little cluttered shop, I whacked something with my backpack and heard it crash to the floor, turned around, and saw I'd just destructed a statuette. I picked up the pieces, put them back on the shelf and snuck out. Then I felt horrible. Here I am a rich person in a poor country--I probably wiped out their profits for the week. So (raised Catholic) my conscience bothering me, I asked one of the admin. assistants at the school to translate a note: "I broke something on Friday. I would like to pay for it now." The translation was five times as long as the English--lots of polite terms and formal sentence structures in Azerbaijan.

Big smiles from the clerks when I handed over the note. The pieces were immediately retrieved and offered to me. Price: 60 manats, but no, not, 70% (shown on calculator). I'm sure I've been a topic of conversation for the past few days. I like this shop--now I'll be able to go back to it.

Another birthday somewhere else

I spent my 50th birthday in Kyiv, at my first overseas teaching job, and I'm so happy to spend my 54th here in Baku! I love my friends in the DC area and the traditional Dec. 4th gathering at the Four Provinces in Arlington, but it's a stimulating change to have a party (for the first time here) with people from London, Melbourne, Harare, New Mexico, Auckland, Manchester, Ottawa, Istanbul, Madrid. I love hearing their stories.

And now that I've hosted one party, I'll do it again (esp. if I hire a housecleaner, as everyone else seems to have done).