I had just woken up. It was Monday morning, America’s Friday night. My friend Laurel told me. At first, I wasn’t too surprised. The more I thought about it, well, the more I wanted to keep thinking about it. Then I went down to get some breakfast and I saw the beginning of Obama’s speech, and I started tearing up. What a victory for America. The funny thing is, is that not one person has mentioned it to me. Not one. I wonder, if I was somewhere else, would people say something to me about it?
Had a meeting today; was my first client contact and well; it just didn’t go all that well. First off; I was running late. What’s new. I thought it would take 15 minutes max to get there and well; it took more like 40. Damnit, already out to a bad start. I show up at the lovely Hyatt Hotel and there are 5 ladies; the director of HR for Chevron in Baku and 4 expat wives. I apologize, yada yada and we get right into it. I get ripped to pieces, especially for: why isn’t there any kids stuff on your list? I explain that there is, but they don’t listen to me. It was, one of the most frustrating moments of my survey career. Everything is way too expensive. Why don’t we have this, why don’t we have that, we pay all this money for this and that. Not only was all the complaining a major pain in my ass, but then the list of outlets I gave them to look over hadn’t changed at all from the last time, in which they had spent a lot of time reviewing it with previous surveyors. Ugh, this makes us look bad. Then, to put the ice on the topping, once they were done all their bitching, it gets worse. I went immediately to the bathroom in the next Hyatt building. Shortly after, I got an email from Reykhan: I was so overwhelmed that I ended up leaving my survey book on a shelf behind me and walked out. She took it back to the office with her a couple of buildings over. When I got up there, one of the expat wives said to me, half-joking but mostly serious: “how could you leave this behind?” Me, not knowing what to say to that and feeling a bit nervous replied: “Oh I’d realize it eventually”. Smooth Lauren, real smooth.
So I went out on Sunday with the guy from the hotel. We walked around the new city, and into the old city, and had quite a few interesting conversations. Is your hair really that color? Do you live with your boyfriend? I answered this by saying I lived with my girlfriend. Well, that wasn’t the right thing to say. He immediately assumed I was homosexual and became real quiet. I realized and said oh sorry, I mean a girl friend. Just a friend. Oh, OK he said. Because we believe that homosexuals are terrible people. You may not believe that, but that’s what I believe and I want you to respect my opinions. Also, we don’t live with our significant other until we are married. Not even with friends. We live with our parents. OK… I said. So from there, we climbed to the top of the maiden tower. I had to go in first. He had to pay for me. Then he took me to this restaurant, where he had to pay for me. He had to pay for all the cab rides. When I asked to pay, he said please, no. These are my customs. I will be criticized in my culture if I allow you to pay for me. The restaurant we went to had private rooms, literally. You walk out the door and you are outside. Inside, you practically have your own hotel room. I felt slightly uncomfortable, especially because it had to be an expensive dinner and he had already been paying for quite a bit. Plus, I know he didn’t make much money, and things are expensive in Azerbaijan. But I just went with it. I told him I had to work later but he kept trying to press it longer and longer. He was terribly annoying, and in the long run wished I had just done my own thing. He came with me to the Hyatt when I did some research there and asked the person behind the desk to accompany me. When I realized what he was asking I interrupted and said no. I don’t need accompaniment. Can you please just tell me where the restaurant is? I was getting fed up. I’m American, and in my culture, women CAN pay for men and we CAN speak for ourselves. Was I being too pushy? He brought up a good point. “You have your customs, I have my customs. But sometimes I think the people in the United States don’t respect our customs.” Maybe we don’t. I personally couldn’t stand being treated like that, not that I was being treated badly, it was just that I was being treated in a particular way. And, I wanted to impose my personal beliefs on him. About homosexuals, about women being able to pay for men, and women being able to do things for themselves. But, that was his culture, and it’s not going to change with a snap of my finger or the words out of my mouth. Maybe we should keep this idea in mind when we go into and try to conform a country to match our own standards. He wanted to take me to the airport when I was leaving, and actually said “can I please”. I didn’t refuse.
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