CIP - (Commerically Important Person) aka ME (Turkmenistan)

Yeah, that means Commercially Important Person. Ahem… aka Ms. Lauren Marie Basler. Exited the plane (in which I sat economy plus… not that great, but better than regular! And into a small bus I went. Climbed up this big, long staircase (with the help of a fellow passenger) and into an interesting room with 70’s style carpet and olive green leather furniture. Men with uniforms, some with small green ones, and some with big tall ones loomed and worked on our passport. Passport control, check; pay money (roughly 100 USD) check; go into other lounge with more gaudy furniture where food was served, check; get called up and pay more money (30 USD) check. I put my bags in the scanner and was then home-free, according to our Chevron contact. Antoneli was waiting for me just on the other side. He was a cheerful chap, (or fellow; these words fit him well) who seemed happy to be meeting me. He smiles often! That’s real nice to see. He has broken English so we made small-talk. Meanwhile, I observed our surroundings. Bright green, perfectly manicured grass and trees which lined the roadway. Large, gaudy, modern looking buildings rose up and screamed different colors, and nothing separated these buildings. Just the odd buildings themselves. I felt like I had flown into a George Jetson era. I wanted to take a picture but Antoneli told me no, that was the 2nd presidential palace. Tomorrow I can take pictures, he said.

My hotel is gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. I have heated bathroom floors. That’s all I need to say. This might be my first stay in a Sofitel, and it’s one of the nicer hotels I have ever stayed in. Furthermore, it smells like my parents’ house in Maine, that new construction smell. Despite that my parents’ house isn’t brand new… I wonder if this hotel is bugged? I don’t really ever want to leave this beautiful hotel. Without the Chevron discount, the price is over $400.

I slept for only a few hours my first night. I got into Ashgabat late and still had a couple things to finish. Chevron would be waiting for me to leave at 8:30 am. I got up at 755 and rushed myself into the shower. At 830 I ran downstairs; no one. Ran outside. The cars were just about to drive away and I just caught them, oops! I’m so bad at this time game. I was in a car almost totally full of Americans and off to Chevron we went. Though, we couldn’t go anywhere until everyone put on their seat belt…. Also, they need to pull over to talk on the phone.

I met with Doug; the president of Chevron in Turkmenistan and he was super nice. He wanted me to go around to the markets with his wife Maris, so I did. We went to the food bazaar where there was fresh fruit, veggies and meat. I watched her talk in broken Russian and negotiate with the shopkeepers. Everyone kept trying to call out to her and get her to buy their products, but she had certain shopkeepers that she normally would go to. She wanted some carrots from a particular shopkeeper but this was right across from the one she normally went to see, so she sent me. On the way back, I wanted to take a picture of the free hanging raw meat everywhere, so I started taking a picture and got called over. When he realized all I wanted was a picture, he laughed, but smiled for it anyways. And asked to see it.

Nice Gold Grill

I went to a store to survey; the owners of the grocery stores were all Indian. The guard at one of the stores invited me into the back room for coffee and that was interesting. He didn’t speak a word of English, but still we managed to have a mild conversation through drawing pictures and making gestures. He showed me a picture of his baby boy, and after a few tries he understood I was American.

A few minutes later, a guy who spoke decent English came up to me. He had the “nicest” golden grill I’ve ever seen, haha…. I would soon realize that there are many golden grills throughout this part of the world, between here and Turkmenistan. Many, many. He asked me if I needed anything or wanted an invitation to hang out because he had an English teacher from Texas, or something like that. I told him no I was all set, but thank you kindly.

When I went for a jog in the morning there were bats everywhere around the maiden tower. Where was my camera! Bats, bats all over the place. It was a beautiful sight, though that sounds strange saying it.

Togrul (the terribly annoying kid from the hotel) went with me to the airport and got me a small musicbox piano to “remember him by”. Very sweet. He asked me if the United States hates muslims. No, I told him. It’s just that’s it’s a touchy subject because of Osama Bin Ladin. Then he told me about how Israel was bad. I said the news portrays things one way to you, and another way to me. It’s hard to know who is really right in this situation.

We get to the airport and he wants me to wait before going through the security. Lauren, I will miss you. You have become my friend he says. And over the 15 minutes we sat there making awkward conversation, he kept on getting closer and closer to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I got up and said ok, well it’s probably time for me to go now. Then, he finally left me alone.

Going through security, they asked me if I had over 1,000 USD in foreign currency on me. I was confused, Turkmenistan was a cash only economy so I had to bring over 1,000 with me. I kept my mouth shut though and it worked out fine. I walked into the lounge and had lots of eyes on me. What is this girl doing here, and where is she going alone? Furthermore, WHY is she sitting in the lounge for Turkmenistan? I can just imagine what was going through the minds of those people, mostly men, who were staring at me. I loved it.

Where were you when you found out Bin Laden was dead?

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.

Friendly faces

I came back to the hotel and met Yushar just a few minutes after the time we had agreed upon, but I expected Ilham. Yushar said his boss Ilham was waiting for us. So we took a nice little walk through the downtown before arriving at “the Rich House” a little restaurant off the main dragway. We went in and upstairs, it was real club-lounge decorated, with bright blues and reds. I kinda felt like I was walking into a mafia meeting. Upon arriving upstairs, Ilham gets up from the table he is sitting at and greets me. Boy, Ilham can talk a lot. We were showered with little picky appetizers; 95% of which I could not eat because they were ALL NUTS! Really? There was cake, dried fruit, lots of nuts, candies… I felt terrible not being able to accept any of them, but I explained my situation very carefully. Yushar seemed very restless the whole meeting. He kept checking his watch, while Ilham just kept on talking. After finishing our meeting, we sat and talked, or rather he talked to me, for another 45 minutes. He gifted me the classic Baku decorative plate which all my previous co-workers had also received. Then I asked him how to say hello in Azeri. “Salam”. I’ve heard that one before….

I left and was waiting outside for my next meeting with Ishmailova when a man approached me, speaking in Russian or Azeri, not sure which one. I interrupted him speaking English and he quickly flowed into English “excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice what a beautiful lady sitting by herself”. Oh boy, here we go. “Do you live here in Baku?” No. “How long will you be here?” Only till Tuesday. “Do you have any free time while you are here?” I don’t know. Meanwhile, Ismailova approached and I tried my best to brush the guy off by giving him my business card and telling him to e-mail me. Geesh. 1 down.

Ismailova was strange, but nice. Very unhelpful with the reports that I had to write, but she picked out a nice gooey, cheesy and spinachy appetizer for me. And also suggested I taste her dessert which was devine; also cheese with honey poured on top. Yum-my. We talked a lot about antihistamines, I’m really not sure why they kept on coming up. She insisted on having me try her dessert even though I told her I was nervous about the nuts. She cut me a piece which “did not have them” and I ate it very reluctantly and carefully. Boy, I’m a pushover huh? I was fine and dammmmmn it was good, but I was still a bit nervous eating it… Anyways, she invited me over for dinner tomorrow night. We shall see if that happens or not.

English here is very sparse. It’s helpful and unhelpful at the same time. Unhelpful because when I’m asked what I’m doing “oops! Sorry only speak English”. But unhelpful when I want a price and can’t communicate that.

Goodlooking men here too, did I mention that? Tall, dark and handsome. I surveyed a grocery store today and there were Indian workers there. There was Indian music playing in the background, they communicated in Indian languages and it smelled like my time in India. I was having a de ja vu moment, but it wasn’t a bad one. I was a bit surprised and pleased at the same time. Anyways, when I got back to the hotel I said hello to the men behind the front desk. It was the same two who checked me in “have you gotten to see my city?” Well I have walked around a bit, but haven’t done too much…. “do you have time, or would you like me to show you my city?” Ummmm… I guess so? Tomorrow sometime? He seemed very anxious, nervous and excited all at the same time to be talking to me and setting up this meeting. Like I was a celebrity or something. “I have many American friends” he says. Can’t wait to see how this goes.
Today I went running, but with a black jacket on. I wasn’t stared at like I was yesterday. I guess that’s the trick! At breakfast I noticed there was no fruit left, so I asked for them to replace it. They came back with a whole fruit plate just for me. Sweet!! I think the theme for Baku is: Pleasantly surprised. They aren’t Soviet unfriendly like most of the previous Soviet countries. They even are a bit smiley at times. Not warm friendly, like the latin culture, but reserved friendly and hospitable. Add a beautiful city, and walla! What a good time.

The nighttime in Azerbaijan was particularly beautiful. The lights played with the beautiful white marble buildings and the waterfalls as well as unique artwork all over the city. I really enjoyed just running my camera to try and get some great shots.

Bright colors? NOT here!

Nothing much happened on my first day. I hibernated a bit and just went across the street for dinner. I didn’t have any problems with nuts but for some reason I ate something that made my lip blow up. No idea what that was from. Ohhhh nuts…..

That night, was just, well; a pain in the ass. I fell asleep super early, like super ME early. Like, 10:30 I couldn’t keep my eyes open so I went to bed. I was woken up not too long after that by some really loud voices. They must have been right outside my door and these walls are so thin. There was arguing, yelling, and then I heard: “Sir, you are in 301? I can get you your room key. Sir, they are sleeping, please sir. Sir, come with me. Sir. Please sir. In between there was lots of slurring. I couldn’t tell what happened but I imagined that this guy came home drunk and tried to get into the wrong room. But, what do I know. Then I heard another couple getting ready for bed. Showering. Then having sex. Oh brother when was it going to end. I slept really lightly until 4 am when I really passed out. I woke up at 7 to my alarm but kept snoozing until just after 8.

Finally I got up and headed out, I was going for a run. I thought I noticed people looking at me strangely, or rather; for some reason I was attracting attention. I did notice a handful of blondes, so it couldn’t have been that. Then it came to me: everyone was wearing a black jacket. Very somber and everyone blended in. Me? I had on a bright red t-shirt. No wonder! I decided to wait to start running until I got to the boulevard where the Caspian Sea is, to avoid attracting even more attention. It was a nice little trail, of more somber, black-coated people but with the occasional bright-shirt runner. I fit in a little better here. The sea smelled of a combination of low-tide and raw oil. Pretty much what I expected after my conversation with my co-worker Alex. Baku silently speaks “luxury” which really, I never would have guessed. Especially since all surrounding towns and villages are far from it.

Oh the TRAFFIC in Baku, Azerbaijian

I arrived in Baku, Azerbaijan very groggy. The passport control was very easy, I didn’t even need to fill out a declaration form. They just looked at my passport, gave the stamp and on I went. It smelled like smoke in the airport. I wanted to say hi to people but I’m really not sure how to. I think I said “spaiceva” or something like that to a couple people, which I think means thank you in Russian. Oops!
Some man grabbed my bags to help me and I tried to say no thank you, but he didn’t understand me. So, I just went with it. We whizzed right out and he got me a taxi immediately. I had no idea what the exchange rate was, but I had taken out 100 AZN. That couldn’t have been much money though, I assumed. But, I was wrong. Found out at the hotel that 1 USD = .80 AZN. Meanwhile, the taxi wanted to charge me 50 AZN. I had no idea how much the taxi would cost, and neither did I know the exchange rate, so I said sure. What else was I going to do.

Well, the guy stopped at the bank so I could exchange USD, but I didn’t need to, so he got change for my 100 dollar bill instead. Meanwhile, the ride had already been about 45 minutes. It was taking a while to get to the hotel from the airport. I was so tired, I couldn’t wait to get into bed. Though, it was a very nice ride. Lots of marble-looking buildings with elegant lighting shining right on them. Beautiful, exquisite architecture. Sure did look very Eastern European, though I am in Central Asia. Then, we approached some traffic ahead. Actually, traffic was stopped. I had no idea what was going on, but taxi said something about the president, that’s all I could make out. I assume the president was going by. So we wait for 10 minutes. Still stopped. Beeping starts ensuing, and lots of it. 20 minutes go by. Taxi gets on his phone, apparently the Ukraine president is in town and that is what this is all about. 30 minutes. Lots of honking. I am tired. 40 minutes. Lights turn back on and the heavy traffic starts to move. Lots more beeping ensues. Took another 15 minutes to get to the hotel because of all the traffic. I felt slightly bad for myself, yes; but also for the taxi driver. So, I tipped him another 10 in addition to the 50 I had already paid. He had given me lots of candy, carried my heavy bags for me, and successfully navigated through traffic to get me to where I was going. It was all good, though I wish I had known I was really giving him like 75 USD!!
We arrive at the hotel, and upon arrival at the front desk on the first floor there is no one. Taxi driver goes upstairs and comes back down, he looks confused. There is no one. So I fumble with my reservation papers and am about to take out my phone to call when a guy comes hop, skip and jumping down the stairs, literally. Him and taxi man have some words, then taxi man leaves. He grabs both my bags, I tell him they are heavy, but he gets his gripping and hop skip and jumps back up 2 flights of stairs. Seriously? He had to turn around and wait for me to huff and puff up the stairs. How did he just do that? Really. He is a tall skinny thing. Anyways, I was greeted very warmly at checkin by two men who were interested to see that I was from the US and it was my first time in Azerbaijan. They tell me I will like it here. I think they might be right.

My hotel room is ok. It’s up another couple flights of stairs, a bit small, modern looking. But the walls are paper thin and my mattress is as well and not that comfortable, either.

I settled into bed and answered some emails. In one of them I had to write to a realtor to say I’m a woman, they addressed me multiple times thinking I was a man. Then I turned off the lights by 1 am. I was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep all that well. I mean, it was like mid-day for me at home. I kept waking up and couldn’t fall back to sleep when I woke up at 7 am. Not entirely a bad thing though, I would say. Time to explore this place.

Off on another adventure; May 2011

Off on another survey. After just having come back from Mexico 48 hours ago, it was a bit rushed. Part of me was ready to leave again though. I’m excited for this trip, I’m going to some interesting places.

The flights over weren’t too bad. Upon checkin in Boston, I had a very smiley German guy (flying Lufthansa). So, I was very smiley back. It didn’t get me an upgrade, but what it did get me was an empty seat next to me on both flights. Well, the first flight was the only one that really mattered. The flight seemed pretty full but I had the window seat, empty seat to my left, and then aisle. Sweeeeeet. The second flight was pretty empty in general. The Germans are a weird breed. They are snobby I would say. Not overly friendly either. Though I like saying Arivedechi, or however the heck you spell it. Like Heidi Klum, haha. I slept most of both flights, as I do so well, and woke mainly just to eat. And to get a refill on my wine too. Europe has got to be the only place where they will fill your wine glass higher than your water glass.