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Dec. 4th, 2004 08:17 amTashkent is blanketed in snow this morning and it does make life seem just a little cozier and friendlier.
R and I went to the Tri Bochka brew pub last night (the only place that brews its on beer in Tashkent), and they finally had dark beer back on tap. It was heavenly - Jackson came with us, and Ian was supposed to meet us but dropped in quite late with a taxi waiting for him becuase it turns out it was Mavjuda opa's birthday (she's our landlord and friend). Jackson had to be to bed on time anyway, so we left promptly to go join the festivities at Mavjuda opa and Abdulla aka's. There was still more alchohol involved, but it was a very lively, fun time. Everyone swooned over R's Uzbek because he's learned so much in so short a time. This morning we're both feeling a little fragile in the tummy and I think that we'll rent a movie from the commissary and indulge in a cozy day at home.
I was sharing some of my family's teenage woes with Malika at my lesson yesterday, and she had some interesting perspectives. She said that teenage time is just wierd - her 16 year old son, Firdauz, alternates between hanging on his mother like a toddler and doing the typical "I'm going out" "Where are you going?" "Out" "With who?" "friends." type of exchange. It may not be rebellion, but the process of figuring out how to act like a man (in Uzbek culture as well as American culture) seems to involve a wierd alternation between wanting a mother's affection and trying to be as independent as possible. When I explained the whole rebellion/separation thing in America she asked "but your parents helped with your wedding, right?" I said yes, they gave us some money, but we also helped out and got all our friends to help us. Her next question was if my parents didn't like R and didn't give their blessing to the marriage, because the only reason she could think of that the parents wouldn't organize and do everything for a wedding was if they didn't approve of the match. I explained that my parents loved R a lot, but our marriage and our wedding were our decision and our matter to take care of. She thinks its wierd but in the end told my how lucky I was to have found my soulmate, made a spitting noise and said "kuz tegmasin" which means don't let the evil eye touch it. It was a very sweet exchange and makes me realize that as much as Malika opa and I have forged a deep understanding of one another through our teacher-student relationship, there are aspects of my Americanness which still befuddle her.
R and I went to the Tri Bochka brew pub last night (the only place that brews its on beer in Tashkent), and they finally had dark beer back on tap. It was heavenly - Jackson came with us, and Ian was supposed to meet us but dropped in quite late with a taxi waiting for him becuase it turns out it was Mavjuda opa's birthday (she's our landlord and friend). Jackson had to be to bed on time anyway, so we left promptly to go join the festivities at Mavjuda opa and Abdulla aka's. There was still more alchohol involved, but it was a very lively, fun time. Everyone swooned over R's Uzbek because he's learned so much in so short a time. This morning we're both feeling a little fragile in the tummy and I think that we'll rent a movie from the commissary and indulge in a cozy day at home.
I was sharing some of my family's teenage woes with Malika at my lesson yesterday, and she had some interesting perspectives. She said that teenage time is just wierd - her 16 year old son, Firdauz, alternates between hanging on his mother like a toddler and doing the typical "I'm going out" "Where are you going?" "Out" "With who?" "friends." type of exchange. It may not be rebellion, but the process of figuring out how to act like a man (in Uzbek culture as well as American culture) seems to involve a wierd alternation between wanting a mother's affection and trying to be as independent as possible. When I explained the whole rebellion/separation thing in America she asked "but your parents helped with your wedding, right?" I said yes, they gave us some money, but we also helped out and got all our friends to help us. Her next question was if my parents didn't like R and didn't give their blessing to the marriage, because the only reason she could think of that the parents wouldn't organize and do everything for a wedding was if they didn't approve of the match. I explained that my parents loved R a lot, but our marriage and our wedding were our decision and our matter to take care of. She thinks its wierd but in the end told my how lucky I was to have found my soulmate, made a spitting noise and said "kuz tegmasin" which means don't let the evil eye touch it. It was a very sweet exchange and makes me realize that as much as Malika opa and I have forged a deep understanding of one another through our teacher-student relationship, there are aspects of my Americanness which still befuddle her.
