Another Silly American Bayram (Holiday)

Happy Thanksgiving! I know it's a little late, but I haven't been on the internet, and I'm about to write about how I spent Thanksgiving, so it seems fairly appropriate.

For Thanksgiving, we all went over to my friend Mike's house. His father had killed a turkey (hinduşka) for us the night before and Mike had cooked it in his mother's oven. He also made some pretty fantastic garlic mashed potatoes. His mother thought he was a bit crazy with his American cooking techniques, but she was extremely proud of him when she tasted the results and kept saying how he is such a good cook. Mike wasn't the only one to have an Azeri think he was insane for how he prepared food though, because as I cooked up some stewed apples for us (the closest we could come to apple pie), my mother stood by and just kept saying "interesting... interesting" ("maraqlı... maraqlı"). And afterwards, one of my sisters tried the apples and said they tasted bad and then said the kitchen smelled awful (and let me remind you that people in America buy candles to make their houses smell like that kitchen...and I was loving it) and my other little sister wouldn't even try them. I just tell myself it was their loss because we certainly downed the stewed apples at dinner. When I brought the dish back, my mother looked in it and was like "you guys ate all of that?" That's right, fatty Americans don't mess around with Thanksgiving. We could barely move when we were done eating. Oh, and I found cranberry sauce in Baku, don't worry (if you're in my family, you probably were actually worried I couldn't survive Thanksgiving without cranberry sauce haha). Although it was no Ocean Spray, it was nice and processed and we tried to get it out in the shape of the can (because that's how all the classy people do it). Unfortunately, since to get the can open Mike's mom had to saw the end off with a knife, it was a little mangled (Look at the photo and you'll see that's kind of an understatement haha). His mom also didn't understand why I wouldn't just scoop the stuff out. She didnt' appreciate the can shape Mike and I were trying to achieve.

My Beautiful Cranberry Sauce...haha

Besides Thanksgiving, this week was just classes. And while that sounds boring and you are probably wondering why I am mentioning it at all, the reason I'm talking about classes is because all of the sudden at the end of this week, our school seems to have become the home of a sizable rat population! The other day during class we heard scratching near our trash can and, while I stood on a chair, everyone went over to see what was going on and a big old rat scurried behind our kitab şkafı (bookcase)! While that left me sufficiently freaked out (I really do not like rats), the rats weren't done with me. The next day was a holiday for Azeris but not for us Peace Corps volunteers, so we had to have the school opened especially for us. Just as Mike and I discovered that the doorman relocked the door after letting us in so we were trapped, two big rats started running right at us across the entryway! Don't worry, I found another chair to stand on until we climbed out one of the windows because we were tired of waiting for the doorman to come from his house to unlock the door. I don't like rats, but I'll admit it was fairly comical.

At the end of this week we have our second and final language test, which means we are starting up nightly tutoring sessions in addition to our normal language classes. Luckily I did well on the last test (I was deemed an "intermediate mid" Azeri speaker...if that means anything to you) and actually my score on the first test was higher than what I need on this test to become a volunteer. Just when I was starting to feel pretty good about myself for that one, I was on the phone with my mom and she put me right back in my place by saying "well yeah, but doesn't that just mean they had really low expectations for you?" Thanks Mom. (Haha I know you are reading this Mom and going "No, that's not what I meant!" and getting all embarrassed. I just think it's a funny story. And so do all the people in my language class. Who laughed at me a lot over your show of support. Haha)

Alright, I'm going to get to bed so I can wake up early and get to the internet cafe to post this, but before I go, I think I just have to mention (since you all seemed to love learning about my mysterious ankle ailment) that I woke up this morning to find that my right hand was partially swollen from another bug bite. It's nothing in comparison to the cankle I was sporting a few weeks back, but I'm a little concerned that there are some genetically modified post-Soviet bugs out to get me. It's not like I'm a Peace Corps volunteer in AFRICA where this stuff is expected (haha yes that was my obligatory dig at my wonderful sister in Benin who has informed me that she is walking around telling all her friends about my cankle. Not fair, this is my second crazy bug bite in a month and she is walking around Benin swollen-body-part-free!).

Miss you all!