OK, I'm feeling better!

Hey everyone! I'm feeling more myself today. Let's see--here are a few headlines:

--We not only braved the Green Market, but Erika and I had a great time. It was pure craziness. People everywhere all crowded together, blazing sun, smells appealing and not so, sights, sounds, fruits, vegetables, shoes, animals, carts going by pushed by children---motion everywhere. Again my driver made it such a great experience. We purchased: strawberries, garlic, cukes, tomatoes, 4 bananas, cheap plastic shoes from China for me (one dollar), a pink bumpy ball (also one dollar) and oodles of traditional Tajik fabric for my quilting friend. Erika also fell in love with a pink print fabric that she wanted in order to get another dress made. It was funny to explain to my driver in Russian why I wanted one meter each of so many different fabrics. He then explained in Tajik to the vendor, who thought it was very interesting that an American artist would want her fabric.
When we finished shopping, we were sweaty and dirty, but so satisfied! Mid-way through I leaned down and whispered to Erika, "In the US, we just go to Target and the grocery. Tajiks come here." She said her favorite part was the spice aisle. I hope she never forgets these experiences.

--Today I got my haircut by a local Tajik woman who trained to be a beautician in Ireland. She came to my house and cut my hair on our veranda with the kids watching.

--I just met my Peruvian neighbor's cook, Natasha, who next week will come to my house one day and make my favorite Russian dish, pelmeni (think tortellini.) Yum. I'll have her make enough to stock the freezer for Blake.

--Last night I made my Central Asian specialty, "osh" or "plof" in Russian. It takes me two hours in the US. It took 4 here. I started by washing the rice and picking out the sticks. Then I de-stemmed the raisins and washed them (I bought them open air.) Then I washed the sliced carrots that I bought at green market from a young woman whose job is to slice carrots for plof. Then I cut the onions and washed the meat and was ready to start cooking. We ate about 7pm and it was so good. Enough food for a small army, so I took some to our neighbors. Still enough for 2 more meals. (I turned to Blake later and said, "that's the last time I'm cooking plof here!")

--I'm really bummed to say this, but I'm not going to the belly dancing class tonight. My new friend can't go and THERE IS NO WAY I'm going alone! So instead my Peruvian neighbor and I will sit in her sauna. Another very local experience.

Well, I've got a few more adventures in me it looks like. My whole emotional pit taught me a few things. The moment it got hard here I wanted to leave. Amazingly, because I was born to privilege (by any standard really, but especially compared to here), I actually could have just left. Later I let it sink in that Tajiks live with an even lower standard than I do here, and they can't leave. How rich I am. Stay tuned!