A Winter Wonderland

As I walked into my boss’s office, I looked straight through him and out the large picture window behind his desk and screamed. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE – it’s snoooowwwwing!!!!!

The large fluffy flakes a few days before Christmas would proceed to cover the city in a blanket of white and fill my heart with holiday joy. Of course, this was much to the disappointment of my boss and a large number of other expatriates who had holiday flights to catch this morning from an airport that was closed indefinitely.

Despite the beauty of the snow covered, tree lined, city streets, walking out of the office in the evening with my plastic clogs was also a bitter reminder that snow equates to below zero temperatures. After walking for 25 minutes practically IN the snow (after all, there are holes in Crocs), a jolly passer-by thought it was cute to throw a snowball at me. I turned on my heel and bitterly responded “I don’t WANT to play!”, later laughing at how quickly the cold reality of winter can get under one’s skin.

The unexpected arrival of winter had one more trick up its sleeve, though, that nearly brought me to tears upon my return to my apartment. As I rounded the corner to my building, I looked across the courtyard and saw glimmering in the moonlight, none other than all of my week’s washings hanging on the line, covered in snow. All of my clothes were frozen solid to the line – just like my hopes of wearing anything clean for the next few days.

As some of you might be wondering, I have decided to stay in Central Asia for Christmas and New Years. While it was always my original intention to commit myself fully to the region during my contract, October and November brought with them many fleeting moments and serious contemplations of returning to Canada (or even heading somewhere warm and exotic) for a few weeks. While I am far from homesick, there are fur-faced princesses being brought home, babies being born, meals being eaten, and parties being had that I considered forking out some serious cash to be able to partake in back home. Instead, Holly and I have decided to return the cultural favour to our Tajik host-family and prepare a Christmas Dinner for them on the 25th. I’m debating killing a chicken myself (don’t worry, if it happens it will be fully documented!) and we will begin decorating the family room with all things festive next week (tree, stockings, presents). Shortly after, we will, inshallah, depart for a week-long tour across Kyrgyzstan – but more about that another time.

To all my readers spread across the world this holiday season who are far from home, I hope your hearts are filled with joy and you are surrounded with people who love you, even if they can’t be beside you.

(Photo by Rory Moylan, another expat here in Dushanbe who experienced a similar fate with his drying laundry)

5 Degrees and Smoke

That’s right, it is literally “smoky” outside. The leaves have fallen, been swept up, and are being burned any moment it is not raining. Each evening small fires illuminate the pathways in my neighbourhood, leaving the smoke to hang heavy in the morning air. It’s pretty much a non-stop campfire around here, which is problematic when you dry your clean clothes on the line outside (unless you are Holly, who claims to actually enjoy when her clothes smell like rank bonfire).

Neighbour girls burning more than the leaves.

As a great friend of mine (and my mother) recently reminded me – it has been over a month since I have updated my Blog. I wish that I had some great reason for this negligence on my part – perhaps a booming social life, productive 80-hour work weeks, week-long black outs in the city, or exciting vacations – but in fact, it can all be linked back to two men named Jack.

Jack Bauer and Dr. Jack Shephard.
After years of avoiding television like the plague (or at least like a contraption meant to suck my brains out and distract me from school work), I recently succumbed to the lingering temptation to catch up on some lost TV time with some English DVD series floating around town. I’ve gotten lost in LOST and watched the clock tick on with 24. And so, the unexciting, inexcusable story goes. I take the work car home at 5:30pm, make dinner, and curl up in my thick korpatcha blanket in front of my 13” computer screen.

Falling into Fall

I’ve still managed to make a few crazy hikes, play American football, eat homemade burritos, see His Highness the Aga Khan in action in Tajikistan, and complete the fieldwork I mentioned a month ago – I just haven’t had “spare time” to write about it ☺

So this is my apology and my promise to get my act together.

At the mercy of inspiration (and my television),
-Heidi