The ex-pat waxes poetic

In the last month I spent a good deal of time celebrating Halloween.  I celebrated it in Khujand, in QurganTeppa, and of course, in Dushanbe.  I indulged in every Halloween habit I could successfully imitate.  Tajik students ate up the games…particularly donut on a string.  Javid and I choreographed a fantastically amateur salsa piece to a gruesome cover of Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson.   I went to the freakiest costume party of my life at a club called Snap.  There, I saw a little Tajik girl dressed up in a pregnancy suit with the fetus ripping out of her stomach while listening to a Tajik hard rock/metal band.  Gulp.

I also get a roundabout look into the culture of the armed service.  And here is the point at which my steel ex-patriot coat starts to chip and erode.  I believe Henry James wrote a novel called The American with a very sympathetic lens toward the foreigner in a foreign land.  I’ll have to start that book soon and maybe better undersand my fellow Americans… 

A very sweet Marine gave me a ticket to the US Marine Ball.   I have never had such a candid look into military culture.  Most of the Marines in Tajikistan are early in their career and have never been exposed to another culture.  They live in a very cushy dormitory style complex, they have a personal chef, and 90 different games for PlayStation.  They stay truly American, and spend unbelievable amounts of time together.  At the Ball, they participated in the ceremonial cutting of the Marine’s birthday cake dressed in their “blues” or heavily embellished felt uniforms.  We watched a video heralding the merits of Marines and listened to a sentimental 70 year old marine who vouched the Marines were the toughest and bravest of all the American servicemen and women.  In fact, nothing about the ceremony, the rhetoric, or the ceremony surprised me.  It was exactly what I imagined the armed service was like – protected and a little cultish, lots of booze and back patting.  But I let myself take part and acted like a good date.  I took pictures and laughed at Marine jokes.  I crossed my ankles and lied that I completely understood the United States mission to Tajikistan.  It was interesting to find out why each of these men decided to join the Marine Corps.  I can’t say I agree with their life decisions or with using arms and threatening warfare, but even the Marines acted because they really believe in their country and out of passion. 

One thing that I have learned is to stay out of the ex-patriot cult of partyism.  There are a many things that I could be remembered as, but “the craziest partier” should not one of them.  There is enough alcohol and isolation in this country to  easily find people who are running from something.  What I mean to say is although there are many fulfilled and happy expats working here, there are also those who are cunning and deprived of attention.  This means any party can devolve into a sticky college nightmare if you are not sure of your friends and your exit plan.  I will be slowly ducking out of such expat engagements for the foreseeable future.