Man Talimchiyam!

For some unknown reason, I was under the false impression that PST (Pre-Service Training) was going to be easy. Sure, our days are planned for us, and three meals a day are prepared for us, but, hello, we are learning a new language, a new culture, and  new profession. Also we have homework. Ugh.
My weeks run as follows: language classes in the morning, 9 to 1, lunch break 1 to 2:30, and technical training (TEFL) 2:30 to 6. I am a very tired girl when I come home, but I need to socialize with the host fam, do my homework, and study. Mostly I do the former.

So my host family is awesome. I'd say my living situation is a ten out of ten; their house is comfortable and contains all the amenities I desire (although the internet has been being leeched from the neighbors, and I think they are on to me). Both of my sisters, Rasmiya, 25, and Zulfiya, 22, speak English at an advanced level. Rasmiya is a teacher at School No. 1, which is where we have our language classes, and also where we observed local lessons and will be practicing teaching our own lessons. She is a very proper girl who has studied English grammar and vocabulary to a T. She has the "golden hands" when it comes to making tea, cakes, or anything in the kitchen. She spends her free time at home with her mother, or if her mother is at work, reading and preparing her lessons. She likes to call her pupil's parents and report when they have performed unsatisfactorily in class. She also loves English proverbs and idioms, and has proven that she knows more than I do. We converse a lot about language, literature, and day-to-day culture.
Zulfiya, the younger sister, is a university student, and also tutors on the side. She is a social, loud, modern girl who won't tolerate a man that confines her. She has a Facebook, whereas Rasmiya does not trust nor like the internet.
Azade is my third sister, although technically she is a cousin. She is 19 and also goes to college. She is quiet and extremely sweet. She knows little English, and helps me study my Azerbaijani.
Our mother is everything you'd want in a mother. She's an amazing cook (including baking), and spends time with her girls, watching television, and talking on the phone. Our father is a hard worker, 7 days a week, and I am slowly getting closer to him as I learn more Azerbaijani. Oh yes, we also have a Nana, who is really friendly and lively. She always greets me enthusiastically and I can practice my simple Azerbaijani phrases.

There are six of us in our cluster. We go to language class together and share the same LCF (Language and Culture Facilitator), Rashad. Rashad is the most awesome thing in Azerbaijan. He is energetic and hilarious. We have way too much fun in our language classes, as all of us are 21, 22, or 25 (Rashad). My cluster mates are Josh, Sam, Mary Ellen, Fiona, and Erik. I will get a picture of them and post it shortly.
So far we have learned about different methods of teaching, the education system in Azerbaijan (hierarchical like ours, however, the money flows from the bottom up, rather than the top down; students pay their teachers, etc. Also it is common for teachers to pay to get their jobs, about 3-4,000, but if you an especially talented teacher they will hire you for free), and planning lessons. Today and yesterday, instead of techinical training we observed English lessons to witness firsthand the Azerbaijani classroom. Only one out of the six teachers was close to what we are used to in the US. The others used solely the methods of rote memorization or telling the answers to the students. Here in Azerbaijan, if you really want to learn English, your family sends you to tutoring (which is done on the side by most teachers and some college students), usually at a price (Zulfiya says she charges more for parents who make a good salary, and less for those who don't).  Now you are beginning to see how in demand my fellow volunteers and I are here. On my first day in the main school building, one of the teachers pinned me down and asked me to live with her because her daughter is at a university and wants to improve her speaking.  I ended up giving her my phone number since I am already situated in a home. I will be talking with her daughter, Saida, shortly. I don't mind because, well, that is what I am here to do, essentially.
On a simpler note, the food here is very num-nummy.  I have bread with every meal, which to me feels quite indulgent, but probably doesn't have the same health impact as it would in the States, as the bread here is fresh, handmade, and doesn't contain 873566 ingredients with 25 letters each, and also some high frutose corn syrup just for the hell of it. The meals I eat feel so homey: the vegetables are soft, the butter is plentiful, and of course it is all made from scratch. My family understands that I am a vegetarian, and my mother knows plenty of veggie-only meals. I did, however tell them that I would eat a little meat if they served it to me, so thus far I have had a soup with a bit of ground beef, and a specialty chicken, lavengi, which is stuffed with a blend of walnuts, dried plums, and herbs, and roasted. The filling was fantastic, but I still have no appetite for chicken, and was only able to eat some dark meat (mixed with a piece of bread and stuffing). My stomach is handling everything swimmingly. I think I have the probiotics I took for a month before departure to thank.

A month before departure, I had no idea my days would be like this. I didn't know exactly what to expect. But my cozy situation is definitely the best transition to Peace Corps Azerbaijan I could ask for!