Welcome to the giant ashtray!!

Belgrade is nice so far. It’s a cute city, with fairly warm people, New England like climate, and good food. I checked out the gym tonight and was on the treadmill next to a guy. I ran a full 20 minutes straight, (not sure where the energy came from!) and when I slowed down he said to me “wow, that was impressive.” Are you a former athlete? Now that’s a pickup line if I ever heard one. He was Serbian and had a thick accent that I had a difficult time understanding while bobbing up and down. He said something about having played professional basketball. Definitely not anymore though, if he was really even telling the truth, haha.

There are many Americans staying at this hotel. I see and hear them everywhere. But, this hotel is interesting. It’s like everyone is part of one, big warm family. Everyone says hi to me. Are you from the states? Where? Sounds like there was a big concert tonight with Beyonce and Shakira. Wish I knew before I totally would have gotten some tickets!

This hotel offers free breakfast and dinner, both buffets. Never heard of that before. Food is actually half-decent too. And they have a lovely deck where I ate breakfast on a couple different occasions.

As one of my co-workers put it, Serbia is like a giant ashtray. I challenge you to find one Serbian who does not smoke. I guess they haven’t gotten the message yet that smoking is bad for you. Smoking is not banned anywhere, so it’s quite annoying to have to deal with it. Getting a non-smoking room is also very difficult. Another thing that’s hard to find here is anything that doesn’t have meat in it. Although; they do have a good selection of salads that are vegetables only, at least! But for main courses, you’re nearly screwed. If you’re a smoker who loves meat, Serbia would be your heaven.

The insurance agent whom I received car insurance quotes from is called Dragoljub. That is got be Dragon or something similar in English. Seriously? Who names their kid Dragon. It’s not easy to say, it’s not easy to write. I wonder if he’ll mind if I call him Dragon for short….

Men in this part of the world, as well as Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan, are much more touchy than what I’m use to. They kiss, (cheek, cheek), I have even seen some holding hands, of some sort. Even though I know for sure they are not gay. Being gay in these parts is very much looked down upon.

I have heard the same story, time and time again from different people here. It’s expensive (for locals) and the pay is not good. It’s hard to live comfortably here, something needs to be done. Though they aren’t protesting like the Greek are, they just deal with it, and struggle to get along. As one realtor put it, whom I met with, the gap between the rich and the poor keeps growing. There is no middle class anymore.

In Serbia – people share tables at restaurants all the time. Strangely, despite the disparity of wealth there are no beggars here…

On to Belgrade, sad..? to leave Turkmenistan so soon

Flew into Belgrade today. My taxi driver told me how hard times were in Belgrade at the moment. Well, he tried to in broken English. He mentioned how jobs were scarce and money and general wasn’t very good. Though, he was very cheery. Then we went by a building that was falling apart and I made some comment about it, and he said it was bombed. So I said, bombed? What do you mean? So, he said 1999, bombed by NATO. Wow, now there’s some history for ya. In plain sight.

At the airport, getting onto the plane, a man sneezed. I almost said “god bless you” thinking it would be a nice gesture but then I stopped and thought about it for a second. Many, many, maybe even most of the people around me were muslim, what kind of message would I be sending out? Would they be offended by something as simple as that? So I said nothing. I noticed that just across from my gate there was a flight to Baghdad about to board. Some of the people in line were looking at me. It was a bit creepy. I wonder if they were looking at me, like hmmmm… I bet she’s an American. That country that thinks they can own anyone. I quickly looked away.

On my way to the airport this morning I was a bit sad to leave Ashgabat so soon. I didn’t get enough pictures of those skyscraper, strange buildings looming in the sky with the doors 4 times the size of me, and the picture perfect parks in perfect condition, so perfect you can’t even walk through half of them. In hindsight, in general, how lucky I am to have a glimpse into such a closed-off government. I can’t believe I had the opportunity to go there.

I got to the airport to with my “CIP” status once again and sat across from some foreign ministers from different parts of the world; Nepal, Afghanistan, India, and a muslim woman, wasn’t sure where she was from. I overheard them talking about how the US doesn’t “understand” something that everyone else does. Not sure what that is. They also mentioned how obvious it is that Pakistan ISI obviously knew that Osama was living where he was. There is no other way to slice it. I was working while they were talking and I stopped writing to listen. It was hard to hear everything though.

Luxury pool all to myself.... last night in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

When the taxi man dropped me off, I asked him to write how much it was that I owed him. I SWEAR he wrote on the paper 350 (manats). I was shocked, that was a lot more than I expected. Over walks some of the employees from the hotel. They have a conversation back and forth with the driver and then, he says that for the day, you went to multiple places. That will be 75. Wow, good thing they made a showing. This guy wanted to charge me 5 times as much!

When I got in and settled, I decided to go swimming. I had to check it out. And it was just as amazing as I imagined. First off, I had the whole pool to myself. They turned on the jets for me, gave me a bathrobe, a towel and a locker. I wanted to make sure to make it to dinner so I didn’t even check out the extra rooms they had to offer; sauna, etc.

I ate dinner on the 15th floor, the beautiful French restaurant overlooking the whole city. I’m so mad I didn’t discover this place beforehand, it would have been a beautiful place to take pictures before it got dark; due to the glare from the lights. Damnit. I had a poached egg of some sort and a steak dinner. It was delicious, and a great way to end the survey. Gave me some stomach rumbles the next morning though. I had been feeling idealistic, and thought I would take a bath when I got in, but that never happened. I passed out instead, until 3 am when I had to get up and get ready to go again. I was exhausted. But actually didn’t feel that bad when I had to get up at 3 am. The picture on the top is the city at night, the lights all in a row show how perfectly organized it is.

Giving out an autograph, that's a first!

The following day, I was out allll day. The translator came bearing gifts. She gave me a cute little pair of shoes with an eye on them which signifies that they will keep a look out on my house. She also gave me a little glass full of sand from the desert. She also brought some pictures showing traditional Turkmen weddings; where the girl wears very heavy jewelry, over 30 kilos if I’m not mistaken. Also, when she is married, she wears a bandana-like hat on her head which signifies she is a wife. Some women wear kerchiefs over their mouth which is traditional and means she does not speak to her husband’s parents directly, she only speaks to them through the children. But she rarely speaks. Some couples follow arranged marriages, where the daughter’s family seeks out a son-and-law suitable for their daughter. The son-in-law’s family brings gifts to the daughters family; jewels, dresses; money, things that the girl would like. The girl decides whether or not she would like to marry him and they have very few opportunities to get to know each other beforehand, if any. They learn to love each other over time. Crazy, I don’t think I could deal with that.

We headed out. The phone company tried to tell us they couldn’t give us the price for long-distance phone calls. What? Then we went to a bazaar. Ohhhh the bazaar. A man selling watermelons give us a small piece to try, and then of course wants us to buy it. Since Yazgul said she loves watermelons, I decided to get one for her as long as she was willing to carry it around. After buying it, she laughed and said to me, did you see his face? Did you see how happy he was? He was so inspired to have an American buy his watermelon from him! Never has he had that kind of experience before! He thinks you are so kind! She was dumbfounded. The little things I guess! A few minutes later, a guard tells me to stop taking pictures. Watermelon man sees this and comes over and asks the man to allow me to. I didn’t know that’s what was happening. When they both went away Yazgul told me the watermelon man made it alright for me to take pictures. Wow, I was amazed.

Many things are subsidized for the people. Renting a car. Gas. The locals have coupons so they can get free gas daily. Everyone here hitchhikes. It’s perfectly, absolutely safe, 24/7. Many people make a full-time job out of it. I love the idea. We even tried it and yes, it was totally fine. The taxi would stop for other people going in the same direction. I wouldn’t have done it if Yazgul wasn’t with me. We ended up having a taxi who stayed with us for the remainder of the day after we had lunch. He was a very nice guy, a big teddy bear. And, he asked for my autograph. HAHA. He ASKED for my AUTOGRAPH. I have had many people who have wanted pictures of me, but never for an autograph. He asked Yazgul how to say a bunch of words in English. She giggled everytime he tried to say them. At one point we drove by a cemetery. The driver shut off the music. When we got past it, he turned it back on. Yazgul said to me that he did that to pray for the dead.

Yazgul and I went to a car shop to get some prices. After we badgered the guy for quite a while, when we were about to leave he gave us both car fresheners to take back with us! How sweet!!

I noticed Yazgul’s mood change towards the end of the day around 5 pm, apparently she had stayed up until 4 am talking with her boyfriend which she shouldn’t have done if it was going to affect her work! But I told her to go home if she was tired. I didn’t really need her anymore anyways. Her mood quickly changed though when I handed her a $100 bill for the past two days. She was cute and idealistic. Man I remember those days. I still like to think I have them sometimes.
PS: There is Mango and Benetton here but I think it’s all fake.

Big brother never stops watching you....

The following morning, for the first meeting of the day, the person I was meeting with showed up an hour late. Then the next showed up early.

Met with a translator today. She is cute and idealistic, only 17 years old. Man can she talk. What is it about people in this part of the world and their desire to run their mouth? Maybe it’s all in the interest of talking to a foreigner. I took her to lunch at the hotel and it was pretty amazing. I even had some fresh salad and didn’t get sick. Fresh cheese, so many different types; pasta, meat, salads of many forms, even freshly made hummus. De-licious. And expensive. But it was worth it. Hell, I’m not paying for it. Unless I were to get sick, but that’s why I’m eating the good-quality hotel food and not something scary from outside! She told me a little about the marriage ceremony; how the women wear very, very heavy jewelry on their wedding day. I think she said 30 kilos. She kept taking her boyfriend’s calls; he is in the army. Whatever, I didn’t complain about it. She’s young. The cell phone service kept on crapping out on us. Apparently the other one had worked really well. That is, until they got in a disagreement with the government. Then they didn’t work at all. Now this other company has a monopoly and frankly it sucks. I may have mentioned this above, but the major cell phone company shut down in December leaving a monopoly for the government-issued cell phone service which is always causing problems. You can only make phone calls half the time.

The second realtor I met with showed up 20 minutes late. She didn’t speak any English so Yazgul the translator had to translate for us. I think she did a pretty good job. The lady was slightly upset that I wasn’t planning on renting an apartment or house, but oh well. I was a little nervous because Yazgul initially told her that’s what I wanted.

Anyways, I had a third meeting tonight. This was with someone from the embassy. 7:30 rolled around and he still wasn’t here, so I became very confused. Do we have a meeting for tomorrow night instead? Do I have it all wrong? Is he planning on standing me up? So I called him. He wasn’t going to be here for another 45 minutes. What is it with these people??? Maybe timing isn’t an issue; either that or they’re just inconsiderate. Well the 2nd guy was someone from the US embassy so it had to be inconsiderateness. If that’s a word. Anyways, we grabbed a beer and I enjoyed meeting with him and he confirmed that these large buildings everywhere were nothing but distant facades which hide the problems. Makes sense. I learned today that the citizens virtually get free gas; in which case the price of gas is not displayed anywhere. Also, there is a lot of corruption when it comes to housing. The government limits where foreigners can live as to not have a lot of encounters with foreigners. Pictures of the president are everywhere, everywhere everywhere. In taxis, on billboards, in hotels and office buildings. I saw him in the bank, I saw him at the car dealership. Hail the president. You can’t talk about the government in a negative way here. It makes everywhere feel uncomfortable, because essentially… everyone is being WATCHED. Big brother never stops watching you.

Accidentally invited dinner guest!

At the grocery store, I took my book out and surveyed with no problems. No one bothered me. It was great! In one of the shops one of the girls noticed I spoke English and immediately lit up. She could speak, though in very broken English. She invited me to coffee and I obliged. We sat and spoke English for a good half hour. She had a lot of difficulty, but it was nice to help her practice. She told me about her mother who had died, and about how she was going to the university in Russia in March. She wanted so much for me to spend more time talking with her but I tried to explain I was only here for a few days. I’m not sure she understood me. I said if I had free time I would certainly let her know. Most of the girls wear their traditional dress; very conservative and long. They are really quite beautiful, actually. Though, I decided that I should probably keep my chest covered since no one wears anything low-cut here, it seems. I had a low-cut dress on; good thing I brought a cardigan with me that can easily cover me up.

Miram had invited me to dinner at their house, and of course I obliged. I arrived a few minutes before 7; unfortunately she had sent a car to get me and I was not aware! Poor Toni, he was having terrible luck with me. Late in arrival to the airport, late going to the Chevron office, and didn’t even show up for dinner at Maris’!
Anyways, everyone started talking business so Maris invited me to help out in the kitchen. The meal already looked simply amazing. Everything homemade of course, sliced sautéed veggies, homemade spring rolls, Teriyaki skewered chicken, even homemade tofu! She literally must have been cooking all day. I was in heaven and couldn’t wait to eat. They had someone helping with the cooking. She was a young girl who apparently knew no English before they came and hired her. She spoke really well! They have a son they adopted from Russia who is disabled. He has no ability to use his legs and his hands are disformed as well. But, he’s a bright, pleasant person to talk to. He told me he is 13 and went through all the family photos with me before dinner. It was cute.

After dinner, Miram explained to me that because they were planning on talking business during dinner, she technically should not have invited me over. That made me a bit sad and obviously I felt a little self-conscious, but I told her just to let me know when I should go. Though, I ended up staying just as long as everyone else. I really liked Maris. We talked most of the time, maybe to avoid listening to business but that’s ok. I enjoyed talking with her very much. She is very down-to-earth, we vibed really well. They are from California, all their kids are there. She doesn’t seem or act old enough to be a mom, nevermind a grandma (which she is). I’m not sure how I would do living in a place like this.

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.