I have discovered the secret to sleeping while sitting up: sleep for four or four and a half hours over the course of 48. Apparently that'll really knock you out, even in the middle of the afternoon on a bumpy road.
The trip over was mostly fine, despite my inability to sleep more than the aforementioned four hours on the IAD-IST flight. I watched "The Prestige," which was pretty good, and "No Country for Old Men," and read a lot of Postwar. MJ was able to get me into the business class lounge at IST, which is a huge step up from waiting among the commoners. Free food, free wine, comfortable chairs, limited crowd, and an awesome grand player piano plinking out soothing tunes. Gotta try to get Star Alliance Gold status this year.
In contrast, the IST-DYU flight sucked. I was in a middle seat and there were some serious screamers nearby. Not a wink of sleep. And while Postwar continued to be good, I watched "A Good Day to Die Hard," which was a step down from the movies on the IAD-IST leg. Oh well, whine whine.
Tajikistan then lived up to its Soviet history at immigration. I got my visa easily enough but then walked back out of the consulate to a snaking, amorphous line leading up to a single immigration officer, who took an almost unbelievably long time with each person. I'm talking up to five minutes each. I ended up just giving up and getting in the citizens-only line, which had two (still quite slow) officers. No one batted an eye at that. On the plus side, I met a really cute family from North Carolina who are here with Global Partners, the same outfit that employs the couple I met at the Khorog Serena in November. It's the service arm of the Wesleyan church, which is apparently pretty dang evangelical, but none of the GP people I've met have said word one about "exalting Jesus Christ." They're here doing humanitarian work, whatever that means in a country that's not in a state of emergency. Maybe they're proselytizing, I don't know. They do seem quite dedicated. This couple has been here eight years with three kids, the oldest of whom might have been nine.
So while the it took well over an hour to get through the not-very-long line, and I was tired, it could have been worse. As a British guy who switched to the citizens-only line right after I did pointed out, the Tajiks may be slow but everyone is in pretty good spirits. No one cursing anyone out or yelling, just kind of patiently going through the motions.
After checking into the hotel I had about 45 minutes before MJ wanted me to meet him for breakfast. You may be surprised to learn that this was mild thrill: I fully expected to have to be ready right away and was prepared not to even check in. But I showered, brushed my teeth, lay down and quasi-slept for half an hour. Then Yodgor came, and Beate, and a guy named Alim who is quite strategically placed in the Network, if I may be so vague.
Breakfast over, we drove three hours or so to Qumsangir, a district on the Tajik-Afghan border. We visited with the first deputy governor of the district (like a Chief Administrative Officer at the county level in the States) and some other senior officials, saw what's planned to be a Free Economic Zone next to the Panj River, went to a kindergarten and grade school with a proud library of 403 (!) books (including one by MAPK TBEN, aka Mark Twain). We are spoiled indeed in the USA. Lunch was actually quite tasty: Plov (rice pilaf), fried dough thing stuffed with potato, black tea, and salad that you could not have paid me to eat because I'm not trying to start this trip off with diarrhea if I can avoid it. We had a moment of excitement when an electrical fire started up right outside the window next to our table.
After lunch we had one last stop, with the jamat. This was a funny event: Men trickled in over the course of the hour or so that we were there so that by the end there were probably 50 there. The only women were Beate, who was with us and is German, and a woman who is the district superintendent of schools. This was disappointing and a little weird. But the superintendent made up for it partially by dominating the meeting. The dynamic in the room was really interesting. I'm frankly a little too tired right now to get into it but I will try to get some reflection down tomorrow.
On the drive home, I slept for probably an hour and a half of the three hour drive. A good hour of it was solid, too, not in-and-out dozing. Now I'm back in the hotel, barely compos mentis enough to get this post out. Russia TV is on in the background, informing me of all of the Russians who have a good chance to medal at Sochi. I'm going to go to the gym to get a bit of blood flow going and to stretch well. There's an oddly-timed New Year's celebration going on in the main hotel restaurant, with live music. Guess I should at least check it out.
More mañana.
The trip over was mostly fine, despite my inability to sleep more than the aforementioned four hours on the IAD-IST flight. I watched "The Prestige," which was pretty good, and "No Country for Old Men," and read a lot of Postwar. MJ was able to get me into the business class lounge at IST, which is a huge step up from waiting among the commoners. Free food, free wine, comfortable chairs, limited crowd, and an awesome grand player piano plinking out soothing tunes. Gotta try to get Star Alliance Gold status this year.
In contrast, the IST-DYU flight sucked. I was in a middle seat and there were some serious screamers nearby. Not a wink of sleep. And while Postwar continued to be good, I watched "A Good Day to Die Hard," which was a step down from the movies on the IAD-IST leg. Oh well, whine whine.
Tajikistan then lived up to its Soviet history at immigration. I got my visa easily enough but then walked back out of the consulate to a snaking, amorphous line leading up to a single immigration officer, who took an almost unbelievably long time with each person. I'm talking up to five minutes each. I ended up just giving up and getting in the citizens-only line, which had two (still quite slow) officers. No one batted an eye at that. On the plus side, I met a really cute family from North Carolina who are here with Global Partners, the same outfit that employs the couple I met at the Khorog Serena in November. It's the service arm of the Wesleyan church, which is apparently pretty dang evangelical, but none of the GP people I've met have said word one about "exalting Jesus Christ." They're here doing humanitarian work, whatever that means in a country that's not in a state of emergency. Maybe they're proselytizing, I don't know. They do seem quite dedicated. This couple has been here eight years with three kids, the oldest of whom might have been nine.
So while the it took well over an hour to get through the not-very-long line, and I was tired, it could have been worse. As a British guy who switched to the citizens-only line right after I did pointed out, the Tajiks may be slow but everyone is in pretty good spirits. No one cursing anyone out or yelling, just kind of patiently going through the motions.
After checking into the hotel I had about 45 minutes before MJ wanted me to meet him for breakfast. You may be surprised to learn that this was mild thrill: I fully expected to have to be ready right away and was prepared not to even check in. But I showered, brushed my teeth, lay down and quasi-slept for half an hour. Then Yodgor came, and Beate, and a guy named Alim who is quite strategically placed in the Network, if I may be so vague.
Breakfast over, we drove three hours or so to Qumsangir, a district on the Tajik-Afghan border. We visited with the first deputy governor of the district (like a Chief Administrative Officer at the county level in the States) and some other senior officials, saw what's planned to be a Free Economic Zone next to the Panj River, went to a kindergarten and grade school with a proud library of 403 (!) books (including one by MAPK TBEN, aka Mark Twain). We are spoiled indeed in the USA. Lunch was actually quite tasty: Plov (rice pilaf), fried dough thing stuffed with potato, black tea, and salad that you could not have paid me to eat because I'm not trying to start this trip off with diarrhea if I can avoid it. We had a moment of excitement when an electrical fire started up right outside the window next to our table.
After lunch we had one last stop, with the jamat. This was a funny event: Men trickled in over the course of the hour or so that we were there so that by the end there were probably 50 there. The only women were Beate, who was with us and is German, and a woman who is the district superintendent of schools. This was disappointing and a little weird. But the superintendent made up for it partially by dominating the meeting. The dynamic in the room was really interesting. I'm frankly a little too tired right now to get into it but I will try to get some reflection down tomorrow.
On the drive home, I slept for probably an hour and a half of the three hour drive. A good hour of it was solid, too, not in-and-out dozing. Now I'm back in the hotel, barely compos mentis enough to get this post out. Russia TV is on in the background, informing me of all of the Russians who have a good chance to medal at Sochi. I'm going to go to the gym to get a bit of blood flow going and to stretch well. There's an oddly-timed New Year's celebration going on in the main hotel restaurant, with live music. Guess I should at least check it out.
More mañana.
No comments:
Post a Comment