22 December 2008
To say that I drink a lot of tea in Azerbaijan would be a gross understatement. The majority of the liquids I consume in this country is in the form of hot black tea (and to the shock of most without any sugar added). Side note: I found a package of green tea today, so now I sneak a glass of green tea every now and then. But the prolific amount of tea, my Azerbaijani counterparts and I consumer is not the point of this post. As this post is titled, I want to write a bit about the game the PCVs play when we have tea. I almost want to venture to say that the Azerbaijanis play this game too.
When tea is served, especially to guests, a candy dish filled to the brim accompanies the tea, jam, and sugar. The candy is brightly wrapped mainly in the waxy paper that covers the candy at my grandmother’s house. One can see pictures of squirrels, cows, cats, moons, and (my favourite) lobsters. Opening up the candy wrapper is always a surprise. What are you trying to eat? What will is taste like? Do I really want to try it?
After a couple of rounds with the candy, I normally prefer to refrain from the candy game. I take my chances with the jam. But the candy game is kind of fun. During PST, we would sit around the candy dish daring the other PCTs to try the candy. Of course, when you try the candy you have to describe it. My normal line was, “Not bad, but I wouldn’t eat it again.”
It’s not that the candy was bad. It was just always a surprise. Sometimes, it was amazing. Sometimes, not so much. It reminds me of being at my grandmother’s house and trying the candy; who knows how old some of the candy I ate at Momo’s was.
I am eating a piece of candy while I type this. It’s not bad. I probably would eat it again. But the weird thing about candy here is that it always seems like a limited time offer. I rarely see the same piece of candy twice; maybe it’s a plot to continue this candy game.
