i had a sociology prof. in college who decided what to do with test cheaters depending on their place of origin. an american who cheated was instantly sent on academic probabation or expelled. there were no exceptions, if you grew up in the USA you were absolutely punished for cheating. the russians, armenians, ukranians and other post soviet countries who had a mass exodus of people of whom mostly attended my college in los angeles... were just slapped on the hand. they were given a long lecture by my dear soc. prof mrs. allen, but they were never reported to higher authority. the explanation was as follows: the americans were taught that cheating was a moral flaw, it was a question of values. you knew you were wronging by cheating. in the soviet union, it was part of common culture to work together, together against the system, always lending out a hand to your comrade. cheating was not a moral issue. it would have been more a moral issue at the time to not unite against the system... this case mrs. allen was the system. mrs. allen is a very wise woman, who understood the difference in the approach to cheating... and while she punished the americans for doing something they knew was wrong, she attempted to lecture the new immigrants on the new sets of values they would have to accept to make it in their new home.

i am writing all of this because i was an observer. it has taken me a long time to post this log, because i really did not know what approach to take when describing my experience. i am not making any accusations, the story above is not a comparison... it is meant to give you an understanding of differences in culture. the thing that shook me most, and what i want to focus on is that the people here, as amazingly warm and beautiful as they are... have been affected by the reign of the soviet union... and the backlash it had on society to work against things such as believing in honesty and justice. with a total lack of faith in governement, the people were divided into groups of, those who received money for their vote, those who remained indifferent and did not vote, those who were doing anything to make their candidate come on top for either a bribe or a promised position, and a grip of people who were really dedicated to the idea of elections and came to vote... and vote honestly. my heart hurt for the last group. my heart was broken by the people on election day. the president can be joe, jim, or jack... there is an engrained lack of trust in the people... and the way that people solve problems and take care of situations has a lot of evolving to do before it can stop causing a skipped heart beat in me.

it is going to take me a while to swallow this. it will take me a while to think like mrs. allen, to take off my glasses and put local glasses on and see with those... see the same things i saw... and by looking through those glasses try to make sense of it all. my upbringing is so different and i have to learn to take the good things from my upbringing and the good things from this society and mix them... live by them and be a good example to others.

arthur returned last night. we stayed up all night talking, laughing and just catching up. he had jet lag so he did not sleep... and i stayed up with him to keep him company. at 6 in the morning we decided to go to khash... we went in search of a khash location and came across this place that is both a restaurant and hotel... i think i am the first woman in history brought there by her own husband... everyone was staring at me... apparently thinking i must be a girlfriend or a lover to say the least. arthur kept repeating that i was his wife. the people seemed a bit jolted, i am sure some people really did not believe us... but we set a precedent... we wanted to eat khash together at 6 am... husband and wife... and we did not let social norms dictate to us that we could not. the waitress recognized me as arthur's wife and she told us at the end that she thought it was "cool" (kayf) that we came to khash together... usually she serves a gripload of men who make numerous toasts and eat a horses portion.

at long last the movie attendant at kino nairi is a disaster. i wanted to reprimend her last time at 8 mile... and she started to cry and arthur felt sorry for her and asked me to leave it alone. i had already called the manager... but since she was crying i calmed down and let it go. i shouldn't have. perhaps if i had pursued the situation her attitude problem would have been adjusted. perhaps at our next movie night if she causes a scence... i will go ahead with the original plan... to get her hand slapped for being so cold, uncaring and mean.