Sophie's Choice

I am learning in Azerbaijan! Not just the language, because that’s coming along slooowly and questionably. But I’m learning other things, too. Like how to keep your clothes out of the way when using a squat toilet (I’ve gotten darned good at that). How to never assume I’m welcome in the front of a car, ever. How to buy water and cheese and is that oregano? Because I’ve only ever seen oregano in a jar. But the main things I’m learning in Azerbaijan are 1) they LOVE to compare things, and 2) not to take offense when they do.

You’re not so fat. (why, thank you)

That other volunteer I knew had much better Azerbaijani than you. (just go ahead and get used to this one)

Which is better: Azerbaijan or America? (stock answer: they’re just different)

How much is a kilo of apples in America? (well, which month? Which kind of apples? Where?) How much do they cost in winter? In summer? (we pretty much have the same fruit all year round there)

Are our bazaars more expensive than yours in America? (we kind of don’t have bazaars; we have enormous stores instead)

How much is electricity in America? (uhhh….)

How much does five liters of gasoline cost in America? (hmmm…well, what time of year? Winter or summer? Which state? Because in California it’s about a dollar 25 for one liter, but in Albuquerque one liter is about 85 cents. Our government doesn’t set the gas prices in America.)

Do you like the food better here or in America? (well, in America we have a big variety…here, not so much)

Do your children like you or their father better? (huh??)

Do you like your son or your daughter better? (what the heck??)

That last one, which I call the Sophie’s Choice question, gets under my skin. I mean, seriously. Are they expecting me to blurt something out? Raise my eyes to the ceiling, thoughtfully put my finger beside my mouth and evaluate the pros and cons of each child? Am I supposed to gush and pick one of my kids over the other?

So I asked someone….do you choose between your children in Azerbaijan? Oh no, they said, grimacing at the thought.

So why are you asking me, then?

I have a new theory. I’m being tested. To see what I’ll say, see how I’ll react. The whole, “I’m not touching yooouuuuuu,”thing. I’m foreign. They’re seeing how uncomfortable they can make me.

You know. Just for funsies.