Missing the Most

It was relatively easy to say goodbye to Baku the city. It was more difficult to say farewell to my friends. Since we were all "orphans" living in a foreign city, we only had each other to rely on. It was impossible to run home to mama or to even console oneself with shopping therapy. So, we did what anyone would do in our situation, we had cocktails! I will miss these friends more than I thought possible. There's something about being strangers in a strange land that ties people together.

The pilates girls at the Rotary Disco Party: Kira, Adriana, Donna, Christie and Brooke

And I cannot fail to mention the other "rocks" in my Baku life...Hikmet and Farhad.

Hikmet was our driver and so much more - tour guide, market shopping companion and explainer of all things Azeri. There were days when I talked more with Hikmet than anyone else. He was patient, kind and put up with what I'm sure were my annoying American habits.

Kyle, Hikmet and Brooke all dressed up before Srinath's wedding

Farhad was my infallable boxing coach. The little man routinely kicked my butt and yelled at me in Russian and I loved every second.

Farhad and Brooke before the final workout

Unfinished Business

In the span of 7 days, I flew across the world (32 hours of total travel time!), endured a stomach bug, overcame jet lag, looked at 43 potential homes and finally settled on a great house in north Oklahoma City. Not a bad day(s) work.

And now, I have some unfinished business from Baku. As I sit in a comfy home office in OKC, it's hard to even fathom that I was actually there. I lived in Kazakhstan, I lived in Azerbaijan. That was me. Not a book I was reading or a tv series. That was my life. It all feels surreal. It's been easy to slide right back into "normal" life in the USA. I've wondered several times over the past week, "was I even really ever there?" Like a strange dream, some parts of my time in Baku are already a little foggy. Seeing as how we moved quickly from Oklahoma, to Houston, to Denver before going international, I should be used to this feeling, right? It's just something about the whole crazy experience that we had over the past year that makes me feel a little sad. Or is it reflective?

Well, in any case, the few days leading up to my Baku departure were jammed packed with friends and fun. First, there was Srinath's wedding. Kyle works with Shrinath, who is British Indian, and Guyla was his beautiful Azeri bride. We were included in the wedding party, so we helped in the old-fashioned ritual where the groom goes to the bride's house and "kidnaps" her. Thankfully, it's an outdated practice and now is only for fun. And my favorite part was that our car was part of a honking-extravaganza caravan that drove all through Baku.

Guyla and Srinath

The bride & groom's car was completely covered in sparkles!

We also attended a disco-themed party hosted by the Rotary. You know what happens when a bunch of ex-pats, the majority from England or Europe, get together and have a South American DJ? Very few disco songs get played. Instead, Big Bopper's "The Twist" and Madonna's "Vogue" are the top requests. Needless to say, a grand time was had by all.

Brooke & Adriana (with a wig!) at the Disco Party

I'm not done yet. Check back soon for a few more tidbits of unfinished Baku business...

Bitter Sweet

There was a day mid-January when I honestly thought, "I cannot make it another second in Baku!" The weather was cold and rainy, the air quality was dismal, the dogs looked miserable or maybe that was just me projecting my emotions. Whatever the case, I wanted out of Azerbaijan. But as these things seem to go, the next day was a little sunny and the next day even sunnier and "snap!" - I was out of my funk. I started teaching pilates, taking an online class and working out with a boxing coach. I made new friends and made coffee dates and lunch dates and dinner dates. Before I knew it, I was longing for some down time to take a nap.

And now, it seems that this too is coming to an end. My husband has accepted a job out of Oklahoma City. Honestly, he didn't seek a job back in the states, that's just where it happened to be. I feel it's fate really. This will give us an opportunity to reconnect with friends and family and maybe start a family of our own. But as my time in Baku winds down, it's all becoming bitter sweet. The things that drive me crazy about the Azeris, I now find endearing. The incessant honking and silly mustaches and all black attire and no smiles, don't even faze me anymore. Maybe I've become anesthetized to it all. I'd like to think that I've accepted the Azeris for who they are. I don't have to understand why they do the things that they do, but I can at least appreciate their particular uniqueness and the experiences that have made them who they are.

We are not closing the door on international living. In fact, we hope to do this again in a few years, just hopefully not in an ex-Soviet country. Maybe we can do South America or Europe. It's a big world and I'd like to try it all out. For the time being, we are going to see where life takes us and currently that is the USA.

Mirror Mosque

I'm on a roll. Coming off the high of touching the sacred relic at the Russian Orthodox Church, I figured my "special treatment" luck had run out. Apparently, I was gifted one more VIP experience, this time at the Sanctuary of Mir Movsum Agha, or Mirror Mosque, just on the outskirts of Baku city.

Exterior of Mirror Mosque

My friend, Galina, once again served as tour guide and instructed me on how to wear my veil and the customs for entering a mosque. When there are not scheduled services at this mosque, it becomes less strict and allows sight-seers of all faiths. Also, men and women were allowed to enter together and one was not expected to perform ablution (the washing of hands and feet) before entering, but we did have to take our shoes off. This mosque was more of a holy pilgrimage site and has become a sort of last resort for those seeking healing of ailments. The poet Seyid is buried at the mosque and his tomb is the main draw. At Seyid's shrine, visitors walk around 3 times, saying prayers as they move in a conglomerate circle. The truly reverent were "walking" on their knees.

Outside the mosque, stalls for ablution.

It was beautiful. We were not allowed to take pictures of the interior and it's a shame that I do not have the words to properly describe it. But, every square inch of walls and ceiling were covered in mosaic mirrors. It was like being inside a giant disco ball. As we exited, a male employee motioned for us to follow him. I was reluctant, but Galina seemed at ease, so we went. He took us to the second floor for a better view of the tomb and into a special prayer room, both of which usually only allow men inside. We were the only people there, gazing down onto the 100 or more worshipers below. Again, I was awe-struck at the mosque's beauty and at the incredible opportunity we were given.


Brooke outside the second floor of the mosque

We ended the afternoon with tea at Galina's summer house or "dacha" as it is called in Russian. And just when I thought nothing could top the mosque visit, I was introduced to Galina's 2 Central Asian Shepherd puppies, who will grow to over 150 pounds each. I'm not being dramatic. I have never seen anything so adorable in my entire life. Playing with the pups was like getting a hug from an angel. My face hurt from smiling so much.



Brother and sister were like polar bear pups!

Safety

There is a general disregard for safety in Baku.

Seat belts are never worn. Car seats for children? Nope. If we ever see a child strapped in, we know that they must be expats. It's frightening really.

We have expat friends in construction here and one guy told us that 7 people had been killed on the job site before his European company took over the high-rise project.

I've previously mentioned the uncovered manholes. I met a lady from Alaska who was walking a friend's small dog at dusk when the poor thing fell all the way down a manhole. She had the dog on a retractable leash, so she just reeled it back in. The dog was fine, but ouch!

And recently, there was supposed to be routine maintenance on our apartment building's power grid. Six hours later, we were still without electricity, so the dogs and I scrambled down 15 flights of stairs (and then back up)....in the pitch black. Apparently, our brand-spankin' new building was constructed without emergency lights in the stairwells. Should be fun and not dangerous at all during a fire.

Here's a few pictures to help illustrate my point:


Notice the man crouched at the top of this rickety scaffolding.


A few seconds after we passed this ladder, it came crashing down.


Self-explanatory picture.

Baku HHH

I have been told that hashing groups are quite popular in the UK and Europe and are popping up in major US cities. Labeled as "Drinking Clubs with a Running Problem," they are quasi-athletic groups who enjoy a few beers after a good jog.

It goes something like this: there is a "hare" who marks a course throughout the city and the hashers have to follow the course to catch the hare. In Baku, they use sidewalk chalk to mark the course, but I read in my Runners World magazine that a group in the northeast USA sprinkled flour and they were reported for being terrorists. Yikes.

Anyways, there are arrows pointing which direction to run and at some intersections, there are circles, which mean that the group stops and runners go out in all directions, trying to decipher which is the correct course. And that's how things get interesting. A simple 3-mile course turns into 5 miles or more. When you have found the right course, you yell "on on!" to let the other runners know to follow you. At the finish, there is a "on-in" which means that everyone circles up and runners give non-constructive criticism on the hare's course, or if someone is caught wearing new running shoes, they have to drink beer out of it, or if someone is wearing a running skirt (yours truly!), they have to explain why they bought such an outrageous article of clothing. It's all in good fun, but things can get slightly crude and everyone sings a ridiculous song at the end before chugging a beer.

We've met up with the Baku Hash House Harriers a few times and have never been disappointed. The courses have taken us past places in Baku that I otherwise avoided like the plague. We've jogged past the poorest of the poor shanties, through a flock sheep, past chop shops and Soviet-area factories. We've climbed to the highest point in Baku and killed our quads running back down. We've been chased by children and dogs, dodged cats, cars and abruptly-ending sidewalks. I sprained my ankle running along the train tracks/dump and Kyle got a stress fracture on a rocky hillside, but even then, we went back for more. Really, I could not experience the true Baku any better.

On on!


Sign hanging in Finnegan's Pub, the official watering hole of the BHHH