Valentine's Day, Grace Dunbar

Five o’clock in the morning on a Saturday in January. I am exhausted from forty hours of airport terminals, airport food and aircrafts in general. After dragging my luggage across a dirt driveway, I step through a ten-foot-tall steel gray entryway. I look up and see a woman and two others who I assume to be her daughters. “Aziza! I know you!” are the first words to leave her mouth. Immediately, more of an unconscious I-could-not-help-myself-reaction, I smile because I, too, remember her.

Though I had met my host mother, the eldest daughter of my former host family, during my first visit to Dushanbe, Tajikistan, I had not been acquainted with the rest of her family. In the States I have one older brother, now I have three host sisters: 18, 17 and 15. It is quite interesting to have three sisters. An experience made more interesting when Valentine’s Day came around.

First of all, who knew that the fourteenth of February was significant in the tiniest Central Asian country? Two days prior to Valentine’s Day, my eldest host sister leaned over and with a giggle and happy bounce declared, “ Guess what the day after tomorrow is? Valentine’s Day!” I must admit, that my excitement, or lack thereof, about this holiday has always been a little lower than your average girls’ even in America. I lump it together with Halloween, Easter and most of Christmas as primarily commercial and of no consequence, aside from the interestingly shaped Reese’s I can purchase from CVS. Unfortunately, there are no CVS stores here so I pretty much forgot about dear February 14.

I believe my slight surprise began in my first couple of weeks in Dushanbe, when I learned that both Manijha, 18, and Shohina, 17, had boyfriends. Summer 2009, had led me to believe that having a significant other in Tajikistan was not very socially acceptable. The only women I socialized with my first time in Tajikistan were my host mother and her daughter-in-law. Married women pretty much stay in the house at all times. Occasionally, a female relative would come for a visit or to help cook, but everyone seemed preoccupied with housework. From these women I learned that customarily when interested in marriage, dating was not mentioned, the boy’s parents would come visit the girl’s parents. Since then, I have discovered dating happens in the younger generation anyway, but discreetly. For example, it gives a negative impression if a girl is seen walking around alone with a boy a lot. Therefore, visits are shorter. I was equally surprised with the amount of time my host sisters spent with their cellular phones. One day when Manijha’s phone was out of order, she asked to borrow mine for the day. I barely touch mine, so I agreed. I was not at all surprised to see her boyfriend’s name added to my contact list when I got it back. They text messages all-day long, constantly. My point? My surprise at how far the female-male interaction norms have moved from the traditional Persian customs in the capital city (though, supposedly, it is not like this in rural Tajikistan).

Back to Valentine’s Day. Unlike, America the stores were not at all full of red, pink and white paraphernalia. I barely saw anything that advertised the holiday, probably contributing to myself and the other students completely forgetting the date. However, when we convened at a restaurant in the early afternoon, we discovered that the normally empty restaurant could barely accommodate the three of us. We were confused, until we noticed all the girls carrying bouquets of roses outside. Susannah, another student, complained, “Valentine’s Day, of course.” Later that evening, when I was eating dinner and conversing with my host family we heard the door open. Manijha walked in, beaming after her day out. With her she carried a giant bag, my host brother ran for the bag and pulled out a giant stuffed crocodile. He proceeded to swing around the larger-than-his-seven-and-half-year-old-self stuffed animal around. After Manijha had finished her story, I turned to Shohina and inquired if she had received anything. Her eyes lit up and she proudly pushed her hair behind her ears to display a pair of pretty star-shaped studs and extended her hand to show a matching ring. I think she was trying to suppress how delighted she was, but it was not very successful. We sat in the living room for the rest of the night and they gushed about their respective Valentine’s Day activities. So it was Valentine’s Day in Tajikistan. Who knew? Not me.

Grace Dunbar is currently studying Tajiki in Dushanbe, Tajikistan.