Because It's Root, Root, Root for the Home Team

Written March 10

Missing, I think from my blogs of late, so focused as they are on Turkmenistan, are the other volunteers. I may mope about being alone and lonely in my oba (and at times I am), but I am far from alone or lonely in the country. There are probably about 60 or so volunteers at the moment. I could get a specific figure, but I’m lazy.

Fifteen of them are in Mary, and we are at most 2 hours away from each other. We are inconveniently connected by marshrutka routes and the first of the month (we all get paid at the same bank). Peace Corps warned (occasionally harped) on the need for balance between the time spent in your communities with the time spent with other volunteers. But, even they acknowledged that cultural immersion cold turkey is a recipe for failure.

The point of all this, is of course (American) FOOTBALL.

On Sunday, 12 of the 15 gathered to watch the Patriots snatch defeat from the jaws of victory (shameless stolen from a New Yorker column I think…I like it’s literary aspirations). Someone’s mother sent them a TiVo of the game, complete with beer commercials and other nifty doodads. There was a feast of Mexican food—or as close an approximate as can be expected given the lack of avocadoes—American cookies, and just being normal. SO FANTASTIC!

Some of the volunteers that were there I hadn’t seen since the fateful December van ride that took me here. We’ve all weathered the winter, dealt with the nuances of Turkmen work and culture, and had great stories to share. Most of the stories included taxis because that’s just where stuff goes down.

It was also great to have some time to chat with various voices of experiences. It put my emotions, paranoia, and vulnerabilities in perspective. Also, it soothed fears and gave me something to look foreword to in the future. WooHoo camping in the most ancient and impressive city of Merv.

Oh, and the game was cool too!