story time

I am currently in the lovely northern city of Xachmaz with my two sitemates. We came up here to enjoy some internet time and to do some shopping. Sanyo and I are moving into our new home this weekend and some household items were needed. For me, this meant some pretty blue, french style fabric for curtains and a new evil eye ornament to hang above my bedroom door.
I realize that I have not really told any stories yet, so here is one for your entertainment
Two weeks ago I traveled to see my friends in the central town of Zardab. At the bus station in Baku my azeri friend made sure that the marshooka (small van) would drop me off there even though it was not their destination. It was a pretty nice ride, three hours later when we reached the town of Ucar the driver stopped, pointed down the road and told me to get a taxi. Apparently Zardab was not on their way. As I couldn't come up with the language to argue with him in my shock, I got out and they drove off. The taxi drivers near by all bid for my ride and finally I went with the guy who looked the least creepy. Night began to fall and it was raining and since the drivers here fly down the road in their old soviet cars, this made me nervous as usual. After thirty minutes of dodging pot holes we finally arrive in Zardab. But now we can not find where my friend's street is. Finally after asking pretty much the whole town, a man climbs in the front seat with my driver (of course a woman would never sit in front) and tells him where to go. 15 manat later I am there, only to find out that he over charged me, of course. oh well, I was there and that is all that mattered. The next four days were relaxing as we cooked yummy food, laid out in the sun while trying to avoid the noisy neighbor seeing us in our shorts, oober scandolous. When I tryed to go up to the second story unfinished portch as Allison's house, she did not tell me not to walk on the boards and my leg fell right through the partical wood. Thank goodness for all those shots we got.
There was a good scratch on my leg, but it is healing quite nicely.
My busride back to Baku was fine, and I realized how spoiled I am living only an hour and a half from Baku. I thought we would die a couple of times, as passing on two lane roads is like a jousting tournament here, that and the smoking of cigs just meters from the petrol station. But, Mashallah I am in good health.
Mentally my health is better as well. Moving into my new house will bring much needed feelings of independence as it usually not acceptable for women to go out at night, or to any tea houses. Usually the young ones do not walk alone, but that is something I just have to do. Now when men raddle off prices for services as I pass by, I just laugh. I correct children to address me as teacher, and if something is bad, I tell my host father. I told him about a group of teenagers that were calling 'hey baby' to me from the computer gaming place, and how I turned around walked my butt right in and yelled at them. But he went later that night and Olmazed hardcore! (olmaz = that is not allowed!) while this may not seem like a big deal in the states, it is very inappropriate to do here, and those boys know better than that. The staring has gotten better as people are becoming used to my presence, but sometimes, ahhhhh. But men like my host father and the guy who gave me a free cab ride in baku because I was super lost remind me that there are plenty of good respectable ones out there.
Till next time!!! op op!