Girl, you wear your bathrobe with STYLE!

I wish I had any pictures from that morning, but words will have to create the scene instead. Every Saturday is the Tajik Bazaar. On this day, the peoples of from either side of the Tajikistan border come together to mix and mingle, sell their goods and reveal close up the juxtaposition of two very different worlds.

A river runs between the two countries and at one place the river splits, leaving a small piece of land in between. You cross a bridge on either side of it, leaving your passport behind at the border station and a lingering question haunts you, "which country am I in right now?" There's probably a legal answer for this, but on Saturday, bumping shoulders with Tajiks and Afghans, it's anybody's guess.

It's mostly men at the bazaar from the Afghan side. My friends and I walk through the crowd, feeling a bit like celebrities as the local governer, the principle of the school, the head of security, and the border commander all stop to say hi and give their greetings, many of them wearing their Karzai-style coat giving them an air of dignity and even, maybe, royalty, at least in this small village-kingdom that they rule.

The thing that strikes me however, is the women. My head has been so immersed in Afghan style, literally even, as I wrap my headscarf around me as it keeps getting blown off by the wind, that I am taken aback at how different Tajik style is. (and feeling a bit shameful as I remember a time when I looked at a map with all the "stans" and thought, isn't it all the same?!). The Tajik women are both selling and buying at the bazaar...already revealing the somewhat greater freedom of movement and involvement outside the home. They are dressed in what I can best describe as a flowered moo-moos, and of course, their pants underneath are another pattern and color scheme entirely than the top. I brush by girls in their young twenties who would look right at home in America: skinny jeans and t-shirts with name brands boldly printed across the front.

Janna, one of the other girls on my team, elbows me and whispers "oh my goodness. Check out that girl!" A Tajik girl walks by us with head held high. She has around her a terry-cloth robe which is brightly pink striped with the words "I love you" written all over it. It's dotted with red hearts. She has on pants just as bright and knee-high rubber boots. What I might wear to a "bad taste party" she has carefully purchased, dressed in and paraded through the bazaar in this collision of cultures.

The story of the goat and the mouse

Well, I am back from the remote northeast and there are many stories to tell. I figured I'd just post on here as I have time. But I wanted to start with a little fun tale that was a memorable experience. (and as a note of caution, for those of you who aren't so keen on bathroom stories, skip this post and wait for the next one to come...)

It was late at night at our friends' guesthouse. Their accommodations are a bit more well, primitive than a 5 star guesthouse in say, well, anywhere else. The toilet is basically an outhouse (but keep in mind, many peoples' bathrooms are just a spot somewhere on the ground outside).

This particular night, I had to use the bathroom after the generator had been turned off for the night. So, I donned my handy-dandy headlamp and made my way to the outhouse. I lifted up the seat to the toilet, and I don't normally glance down into the toilet of outhouses, but my light from my headlamp happened to shine directly down into the hole. I saw something moving in the light. I did a double take and saw a white little mouse scurrying around on the...ahem, pile. My thought was, "sucks to be that mouse right now." Then I turned around and what should have made its way into the outhouse behind me but a goat! I grabbed the broom in the corner and hit the goat on its butt trying to get it to make its way kindly back out and leave me in privacy. However, the goat was stubborn as all get out and refused to move, let alone leave me alone to take care of business. So, I figured well, goat and mouse, we will experience this trip to the bathroom together.

Yep, a moment I will remember forever...and the goat and the mouse probably will too.