without a hitch

My nerves calmed down over the course of the day yesterday, as AV took over making sure all the arrangements were made for today's event. This morning the big boss arrived and was in a chipper mood at breakfast. So the nerves turned to butterflies. Everything this afternoon went about as well as it could have. Even my small speaking role, I surprised myself with how fluid and self-assured I sounded, to myself. Usually when I have to talk a lot in big meetings, my real-time perception is that I'm talking too fast, or that I sound like I don't know what I'm talking about. Not today. Maybe that means I came across like a complete fool, but I actually doubt it.

Also, I've said it before and I'll say it again: ICD is an incredible place to have an event. It's just beautiful.

After everything was over YF drove us all to get traditional soup called ugro (noodles, meatballs, potato and onion) and shashlik (grilled beef) with french fries, and he and MJ went off to meet with the Brits while AV and I ambled home.

Now I'm back in the hotel and ready to do all the work I couldn't this morning because the internet in the office was down. Yeehaw.

diplomatic protocol

Good lord diplomats get people all wound up. Today was a reasonably productive one but I seriously underestimated two things:

1. How much work I would personally have to put into ensuring that all proper protocols are followed, and into all the planning that goes into making sure things are set up correctly, for the signing ceremony on Thursday.
2. How anxious people would be about the logistics.

My counterpart at AID called me like eight times today, three times to ask the same question about who would be speaking from our side in which order. He's a competent guy so I'm sure there is some reason he's so wound up about something so seemingly, well, insignificant isn't the right word. I don't know, everyone shows up, we know when the ambassador is supposed to speak and then when everyone signs the papers, and then other people are gonna say a couple things, no big deal. Oh, how naive I am.

We have to make sure there are four identical pens.

We have to make sure there are the appropriate number of flags, all the same size, and that they are arranged properly on the table. We have to decide whether or not to also use large flags, and if we do, where they'll go.

We have to figure out where the signatories are going to sit while each is speaking in turn. Will it be at the signing table? Or in the front row of the audience, because at the end of the thing we may need to do a brief PowerPoint? Do we need a PowerPoint?

We have to establish who is opening the event, then who is speaking after the ambassador, then who is speaking to describe the project. Not just that the project will be described, but the name of the individual who will do the describing.

And on and on.

I don't know, it'll be a hoot and a holler and I'll get some good stories out of it I bet. Whatever.

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Tonight AV and I went out for dinner with two generations of fellows. Turkish spot. Delicious shish kebab. It was nice.

That's all for now.

saturday-sunday

It's a beautiful day out, so I have the window cracked in my hotel room. A little while ago a procession of some kind moved down the market street that's just out of sight behind the hotel. Lots of drumming. It faded after about 15 minutes but some drum beats still float in through the window from time to time. I guess when the wind blows this way.

Yesterday AV and I walked over to the National Museum, where we met up with our colleague B and her husband (G) and niece. They are German, American, and German respectively. The museum was fascinating in a totally unintentional way that sparked the latest installment in my (and seemingly all expats') interrogation of what the hell is up with the half-assing of everything around here. The museum is huge and grandiose, but ugly, covered in the same cheap-looking colored glass as many other newer buildings around here (and in Afghanistan and Pakistan). The art collection on the top floor could most generously be described as modest. There are a few interesting and somewhat accomplished paintings, among a pretty wide collection of very bad paintings and drawings. And there is a puzzlingly random selection of other European art: a couple of 19th-century German and Austrain vases, some German military knives and decorative swords, some Danish (or Dutch?) coins from a few hundred years ago. What the hell is all that stuff doing in there? No explanation is even attempted, not even in Russian or Tajik. The captions are, as in the antiquities museum, printed on colored paper and haphazardly affixed to the picture frames or display cases.

The second floor hallway is identical to the floor above, but the doors to the galleries are closed.

The first floor has something much more engaging: a sweeping collection of artifacts and art purporting to tell the grand history of the Tajik people, from Neanderthal times onward. They've had to do a lot of nation-building from scratch here, and the history that they're cobbling together is interesting if sometimes hard to follow. Zoroastrianism figures in, as do the Achaeminids. There are at least explanations on the wall here that form a rough chronological narrative, but they're poorly-designed and cheap-looking. And while I can't comment on the Russian and Tajik wording, the English is poor and full of errors.

And that brings me to the confused-expat question: why? Why go to the trouble of building a huge museum in a prominent part of the capital -- right next to the presidential palace and the world's second-tallest flagpole* -- that is clearly meant to make an impression on visitors, and then do such a crappy job with the arrangements and language and presentation? You've already done most of the work to build the building and get everything in one place, why not curate a little better? For $10,000 I'd happily rewrite all the English captions, import the foam board, and redesign and remount everything myself. That isn't that much money! The thing must have cost millions of dollars to build! G told us about a book that's supposedly tells the national history, the English translation of which is "worse than you'd get on Google translate." Why not hire someone who can write coherently in English to clean it up? It's of a piece with the weird resort I stayed in last year with the Norwegians where they hadn't emptied the trash can in the bathroom after the previous guests. Paying attention and doing something really well, as opposed to halfheartedly going through the motions just doesn't seem to occur to people.

G and B have been here for 15 years and, if it's not already obvious, completely concurred with my and AV's impression of the place. I feel a bit patronizing saying all this but man, as G said, who's going to want to come here and open a factory, or spend their reputation organizing a tour group, if you can't be sure anyone is going to do their work properly? It's not just me who's thrown off by it.

That's enough for now, I need to do some more work. Showtime tomorrow morning, as the workshop begins in earnest. No idea how it'll go, but seems like it at least won't be a catastrophe.

*The Saudis built a taller one last year. Jerks. 

day 2 jet lag is the worst

Slept like a champ last night, thanks to my little friend diphenhydramine hydrochloride. Nine and a half hours of deep, deep sleep. I dreamed about buying rare books.

Today was productive, lots of meetings and some progress on various documents. We're going to be flying a bit by the seat of our pants next Monday and Tuesday but we've got a much firmer grip this evening than we did this morning. Being in-country is essential -- it's MUCH harder to make sure logistics are being taken care of over email. Instead of several days of back-and-forth emails and uncertainty about whether everyone is on the same page, you can have a thirty-minute conversation and all is fine.

I hit a wall about 4 PM, though, and I'm still hitting it 2.5 hours later: still feel awake but my brain is just moving so slowly. Going to the gym in a few minutes to keep myself awake and get the juices flowing and then I'm calling it a night. So much to do this weekend but it can wait until I'm compos mentis. 

that post-travel shower

It's raining and foggy in Dushanbe. You can't even see the hills behind the Serena from the elevator, just an off-white backdrop behind the gardens and low buildings. AV and I arrived this morning after what was all-in-all a pretty smooth trip over. There was the matter of the screaming baby with what I really have to admit is admirable stamina -- I can't imagine being that miserable for that long and telling everyone about it the whole time. We ran into NR unexpectedly in Istanbul, which was a treat. She's on her way to Kabul and her layover wrapped around ours so we hung out for a bit before heading on.

Something about travel just guarantees BO and greasy hair, and I always look forward to the first shower and floss and tooth brushing after arrival. Teased it out this time, though: We got to the hotel about 5:45 and I made myself unpack everything carefully before jumping into the hot water. Then stretched and watched BBC a bit (crazy about the shooting in Ottawa!) and called the front desk for a 9 AM wake-up call. And then I slept beautiful sweaty drooly sleep.

AV and I just had breakfast and now are back in our rooms to catch up on email before we head to the office this afternoon. Gonna be a busy trip. Here goes.