The "Me Miyvars Sakartvelo/Get Outta Dodge" Dichotomy.

This post, a mere half a month after my previous post, might send some of you into cardiac arrest.  I think the risk of that, however, is smaller than the risk of death by head-on collision in Georgia (either by cars or by banging heads against walls-- though marsh drivers now insist on passengers wearing seatbelts on the highway, because the fine is hella high.  So the latter option is more likely.)  I gotta get my story out before that happens, so it's a risk I'm willing to take.  Hope you see things my way ; )

Sometimes I'm nostalgic, and sometimes I'm definitely ready to get the ef outta here.  These will be indicated by the following:
M<3S = Me <3 Sakartvelo.
GOD! = Get Outta Dodge.

Davitz'k'ot!! Let's begin!!

GOD!:  Sitting in the teacher's lounge isn't really a pleasure anymore.  I'm used to retreating to the secretary/accountant/IT manager room with those 3 awesome girls.  They let me chill, talk to me like I'm a normal person, and occasionally offer me coffee and/or a light lunch, which is nice on the days I'm at school 'til 5 with Ana, teaching the doctors.  You're waiting for the GOD! factor, right?  I was in the teacher's lounge, trying to plan an informal English language/culture summer camp (i.e. reading and watching movies with kids for a few hours during weekdays).  A teacher came up to me and monologued, "Do you really have to go in July?  That's awful.  Stay.  You should stay in Georgia.  Get married and settle down in Akhalsopeli.  I can't believe you Americans.  You come here, we fall in love with you, and then you just leave.  Don't you feel anything?"  I should be nonplussed by this, considering that everyone and their grandmother is suggesting that I get married and stay here and is asking if I'll miss Georgia.  Also, this particular teacher is quite obviously psychologically unsound, so I'm used to weird comments from her ("Your skin is so white!  You're so beautiful!!"  "Why didn't my son get a 10?  I see how it is, whoever goes to Madga for private lessons gets a 10. [more on this kid and my feelings about that in a later post]"  "I don't like Chinese people. [in response to my comment "I like Chinese food"]").  So, to this I replied, "Well, you see, it's because we Americans have such cold hearts."  She agreed, I closed my notebook and then retreated to the secretary/accountant/IT manager room.

M<3S:  Anyway!  You may have seen from my facebook status a while back that I was "ice cream'd."
Translation: I went on a tour of an ICE CREAM FACTORY!  Thanks to Jess's ballin'ness and 3 degrees of separation from ice cream factory goodness, she got us into a tour last Monday.  If you think this means my Monday was the most delicious day I've had in Georgia, filled with fresh boxes, cones, and chocolate covered bars straight from the spigot, you're right.  My frozen American heart was melted by the deliciousness of the "cold heart of Kakheti."

M<3S/GOD!:  Before the ice cream tour, we had BURN IT DOWN!!: Burning unnecessary things from service, part 1: the Lagodekhi tour.  I stopped by Magda's house to say goodbye and drop off something for her.  I stayed to talk and be polite, and as I was rushing to the marsh station, I saw the last marsh rolling away before my eyes, 10 minutes before the posted time.  Luckily, I hoofed it to the bottom of the hill and managed to catch some Georgian hospitality from a neighbor's relative.  Good thing, too.  BID!! part 1 was just what I needed, complete with beer pong and weenie roasting (among other entendres).  Stay tuned for BID!!: part 2, Kvareli edition, on the Interwebs everywhere this June!

M<3S:  During Burn It Down!!: part 1, I met an awesome guy visiting Georgia who's interested in linguistics, and casually mentioned to him the nearby village where the rare Udi language is spoken.  Since my director's wife is from there, I called and asked if he wouldn't mind taking us around and talking with a few people.  On Sunday, my Director picked up Ian and I from my house and we adventured over to Zinobiani, stopped at his wife's relative's friend's house and were ushered in with hugs and "What are you doing in the street?  Get out of that car and into my house!!"   There, we started to chat with 4 older ladies.  I was soon goaded into this lady's kitchen to make coffee for everyone who wanted it-- that, although neither of us actually wanted it, turned out to be Ian and myself.  Now, I know that drinking coffee with guests is the polite thing to do, so I'm used to drinking coffee when I don't want it.  However, I'm not used to -making- coffee in someone else's house the first time I visit.  The lady chattered away so nonchalantly, she made it seem like this was normal.  Anyway, the ladies were super shy, but he managed to get a few recordings of some real, live Udi at their place and the museum where (Eto will agree with me) the director is a spazz who LOVES to blabber on and on despite the fact that my guest didn't know Georgian, and I can't translate 10-minute blocks of blah-blah-blah text.  Whatev!  We also chatted with Sandro Papa, the old Ossetian guy who I'm in love with who lives with the nearby relatives.  He didn't really understand what was going on (he thought Ian WAS Ossetian), but his face lit up whenever we were delighted with a few sentences in his native language.  Check for photos of this adventure on Stalkernet.  Since Ian is actually living in Serbia, he made a traditional Serbian dish for dinner.  I always enjoy foods that are new and different (except maybe aspics), I love cooking with people, and the fam liked it, to boot!  Dirispaca to the Zenobiani ladies, and dendjhir buzneg to Sandro and Salome for helping us out.

M<3S:  One thing I'll definitely miss here are a few I've met who have amazing hearts, and happen to be my students.  Yesterday I got a small sachukari bag from 2 of my favorite 5th grade girls.  Included were earrings, bracelets, a necklace, lip gloss, a homemade scarf/belt, and the following note.

Translation: Paula!  Dear Paula, your (familiar, not formal) leaving really makes our hearts ache.  But, what can we do-- such is life.  We will miss you very much.  We wish you won't forget us.  From, Mari and Eto.

Not included: my eyes, dry.

<3

I did promise..

And though I'm getting to be flaky and irresponsible (hey, it comes with the go-with-the-flow way of life here.  I'm just doing my job by integrating?), there's still a kernel of I-should-get-this-done.

Plus, when I talked with the Country Director today about the possibility of extending service, he suggested I write in my blog, as I haven't for a long while.
And it's true.  I've been here, there and everywhere, and no amount of me sitting in one place has inspired me to write a blog entry.

Among the things I've been busy with:

Teacher Technology Training,
aka Trying to Make Lightning Strike the Same Place Twice
Trying to get the second wave of the Technology Training underway.  It's tough when A) My right-hand woman-and-translator's no longer participating, B) My other right-hand (left-hand??) woman is a little flakier and not as proficient in English, C) I lost motivation because the teacher-trainees lost motivation.  But there's the seed of desire in the star pupil from the last group.  I orchestrated a meeting with her and my left-hand woman finally last week, and it came to a stalemate over who should be in the next group, teachers or doctors who expressed interest.  We'll see.

Daily Work as Assistant to the ICT Manager
Speaking of Technology, general computer maintenance/fixing/IT girl-being... I have burned ISO images to CDs, messed with partitions, reinstalled Windows, swept away a squintillion viruses from every computer and then again, and learned Ana's secret method of cleaning memory (pencil erasers?!) in the lab at school.  She needs to ask the computer guy in Kwareli if we have permission to actually reinstall Windows, because one computer suddenly started saying something about no monitor driver for Windows, and another shuts off with no notice every once in a while.

I'm Ms. Fix-it?
Yesterday I was also Rich American In-Village IT Girl and Obligatory Food Repository for one of the teachers.  She held me captive in her kitchen for day-after-birthday-feast food and coffee, even after telling her I had just eaten before coming to her house (which was the case).  THEN I spent a few hours installing an antivirus, Georgian fonts, and OpenOffice on her computer (all in Russian; that was fun) and attempted to teach her how to use them in Georgian.  If she actually listened to me, she should now understand, but we'll see how that goes.

As Far As Laptops Go, 5 Years Ain't No Spring Katami...
My own computer's been on the fritz, as well.  The stupid magti modem's been a thorn in my computer for some time now, mainly because (I hypothesize) it's USB based, and I tried to install a program to block USB devices from automatically opening (because they've all got friggen viruses here!).  Since that turned out to be more of an annoyance than a help, I uninstalled the program.  It was still acting weird, so I tried to fix up stuff on the registry myself and with a free registry cleaner.  Three or so days ago Trent gave me a blue screen of death.  I took it to the neighbors' and he opened it up (I can't use a screwdriver because I'm a girl) and we cleaned out surprisingly little dust.  I then did Windows recovery, am back to Service Pack 1, and am currently trying to sort through my stuff and back it up on 10 lari's worth of double sided DVDs (as I lack an external).  Then I can hopefully just do a clean swipe and reinstall SP3.  Though I fear Trent is is danger of Fading Out soon, so I may or may not be scanning the Interwebs for an investment I didn't want to make until I got readjusment allowance.

Conference Time!
Backtracking and changing topics, I also attended the All Volunteer conference in a center outside of Tbilisi.  Every PCV in Georgia was there, the noobs for Language a few days before us old hands arrived.   Then, the real party began as we went over safety and security policies, held committee elections, and taught each other cool stuff with volunteer-led session day.  I held a yoga session with a fellow Iowan (w00t!) and, though very different from my usual style of "strike-a-pose-and-hold-it-for-like-2-minutes", went okay.  Then we had our early Thanksgiving feast, with all volunteers, staff, and the Ambassador.  He's such a cool guy.  He walked in with our Country Director, came over and greeted me with, "Hi, Paula!  How've you been?" Me: "Ehhh.. okay." Him: "Spend too long in the village?"  More like lack of sleep, but you'll have that.  Also, I was stressed because I was supposed to arrange the G9s' contributions to the Thanksgiving feast, but I really didn't do all that much, and I'm pretty sure one of the G10s in charge was POed at me because I forgot to buy aluminum foil.  Well, what are you gonna do?  Some people just don't like me, and that's all there is to that.  All in all, it was good to see people again and chat with the PC Response (short-term assignment after service) Volunteers, but it was exhausting.

Birthday Bash or Banya?  Both!
And a birthday the day after the conference didn't help much.  Luckily I stayed with an awesome couple doing some research for Fulbright and English teaching, and managed to avoid the detrimental chaos that ensued.  I got the best of both worlds: watching the ridiculous beer pong 9 game winning streak, then heading out to the banya to relax when the party moved to the wild and crazy club scene.  I sorta returned the favor playing hostess this weekend; they were guests here, and I had fun showing them around the village and meeting my friends and coworkers and such.

Things that annoy me:

• My camera won't turn on.
• A creepy 50-some-year old Georgian man who noticed a young American girl stuck in the backseat of the marshutka, just trying to read A Clockwork Orange, and continually harassed her and asked for her phone number and was generally impertinent.
• No one on this marshutka, from my village, spoke up, even though I was yelling and freaking out, all in Georgian.  Seriously.
• After All Vol, someone unknown has what was formerly my cinnamon, ranch packets, and curry powder.  Life without spices is a life not worth living.
• I got Intermediate High on my Georgian LPI.  Haven't I wasted more of my life than that on learning this ridiculously difficult language?
• Private students from 3-10 every day makes it hard to plan even with the most motivated of partner teachers.  And planning with two counterparts basically means I'm never at home, because planning is NEVER at my place, and half of planning time consists of eating and/or watching them do other things.

Things that are kinda cool:

• Teaching my 8th graders "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?" for Past Simple and making them write alibis in Past Continuous and get witnesses to sign for them.
• Some planning with Ana.  It's half and half.
• Working on both Appropriate Projects (getting running water for the school) and Darien Books (getting English books for the school).  Writing = Please, give us things, for we have them not!
• Dirt cups with the family tonight!!!

So, yes, I'm thinking about extending.  But there are many things to think about, my personal hygiene/living situation happiness being one of them.  It really is the little things.  No showers, no salads, no DDR.  And I can't live in a little town with like 3 friends, all of whom have kids, forever.  If only I'd nerded out more as a child and wasted more time taking apart computers, I might have a job elsewhere...

Now that it's 2 AM, however, I think I'll take this opportunity and sign out.

Back from CR! And Kobuleti! And my birthday! And depression! Back to school!!

From over a month ago:


Okay, okay, so I haven't posted for a month now.  But I defend my slacking in that my main reader was hanging out with me for part of that time.

Of course, I've been back from the family vacation for a while, and there's really no good excuse to why I haven't posted except that I've been really bummed and also freaking out about this project lately.  But I'll get to that.  First news of the trip of awesome!

Mom and Dad arrived EARLY Friday morning, most of the time waiting which I spent being a sorry excuse for a city guide for some neighboring country PCVs who were staying at the Nika.  Then at the airport, pacing back and forth and trying to get a spot among the Georgians waiting for their loved ones to arrive.  We were quickly whisked away by Jenora's taxi driver neighbor, caught a few hours rest, then walked (pretty aimlessly; like I said, I'm not much of a guide) around the city until my host dad/brother picked us up later that evening, much to my parents' delight.  If you're still unfamiliar with Georgian driving, ask my dad to tell you all about it, which hopefully proves to be not just a traumatic reminder but a good therapy session for him, or see this wonderfully written post describing the Georgian Rules of the Road.

Anyway, traveling around Georgia actually went pretty smoothly.  Nothing too unexpected or out of the norm here.  We did go to the graveyard, which was pretty cool for Mom the Genealogy Nut.  She's been taking me to graveyards since I was a little squirt, showing me how to lay the butcher paper on the gravestones just so, peel the wrapper off the crayon, and rub the crayon sideways until the name and dates magically appeared on the butcher paper in cerulean or mulberry.

But the real genealogy was later, in the Czech Republic.  I'll get to that.

In Georgia, however, don't think family wasn't present.  Yes, I was exhausted from translating, but I found I didn't need to every second; my mom and Shorena both have that sixth sense or feminine intuition, call it what you will, that sometimes the situation was thus:
Mom: I bet this thing does this because of this.
Shorena, to me, in Georgian: Did she just say this thing does this because of this?
Me: HALLELUJAH.


And, now, to the present.  Yes, the visit was wonderful.  Yes, translating was exhausting.  Yes, eating 24/7 was exhausting.  Yes, Ana in Baghdati is such an amazing hostess and friend I can't begin to thank her enough.  Surprisingly no, no accidents were had due to Georgian driving.

You know, in retrospect the amount of eating we did was partially due to the fact that we visited places of food production (beehives, vineyard, watermelon garden...) and partially due to the fact that the only thing mutually comprehensible that both families could do with their mouths beyond making a gamarjobat and hello come out of them was to shove something edible in them.  Why not?

Needless to say, the amazing adventure in the villages of CR and Prague restored my belief in the existence of flush toilets.  Also seeing the site of where my great-grandma was born was pretty cool.  Not only that, the mayor of the village (who drives a four-wheeler to work) gave us a book about the history of the village (which also has its own WEBSITE.), which revealed the village paid for some of my relatives to go to America... which is really weird.

Also weird was the bone church at Kutná Hora.  But you've already seen pictures on Stalkernet.

When we went to the other (west) side of the CR, after a long pilgrimage back and forth from village to village on a rainy day when we were just about to give up, we ended up in the house of a lady who may or may not be related to us.  She fed us awesome Chodsky kolache, a specialty pastry of the region, some turkish kava, and brought out dress after dress, nay, COMPLETE outfit sets of traditional Czech kroj, of which I got the honor of trying on one or two.  About which she commented, "If this were to be yours, I'd have to take it in a lot, or you'd have to eat into it."  People!!

Of Prague there's not much to tell but pretending to be a tour guide for my parents, getting lost on trams, finding delicious Czech pastries and an amazing teahouse, the cute bartender at the place across from the hotel, the fun little ghost tour, and, best of all, wandering off to gorgeous and tourist-free Vyšehrad.

Next time I go, more time will be spent at that magical castle where no one goes, dinner at At the Ropemaker's Wife bar, more delicious pastries, more talking with the locals, taking a train or two into the countryside, and chillin' in the country where I, the anti-beer-ist, can enjoy a pint.


For a while I was super depressed after the amazing vacation.  Going back from Candyland to the Twilight Zone was no walk in the park.  Heck, they don't exist in the Newvillage.  BUT!  What the Newvillage does have to offer now are computer trainings for teachers!

These computer trainings have been a pain, but they're getting something done, and I feel like living again, most of the time.  School has started, grape harvest has been missed multiple times, and I'm teaching with Magda and Ana (not Lia or Nino... long story.).  But you've already read a novel.  Go have a rest (daisvene!), and I'll write later.  Besides, gotta go lesson plan.

More Travel. Aka Paula tries to spend 21 hours in a marsh in a 9 day period.

Backlog from last week:

[Well, these next few days are going to be spent butt planted precariously on some kind of seat speeding through the country at speeds so unspeakable I must not speak them.  Also praying no one who's gone more than, say, 5 days without bathing squishes in the seat next to me for the next couple hours.


But, hey, exciting things going down!

Friday I headed to Tbilisi to prep for the presentations I'll be doing later this week.  Friday evening I spent in Patara with the old host fam.  Much debate of how easy it is to get to America and study and get into college and money was observed.  Nothing like a good helping of dream-killing and at least four "Why have you forgotten us?"es to make you glad that you'd been texted, "when will you visit us?"

Needless to say, the next day supra at Katelyn's Patara host fam (the year-anniversary of the dude who's 40-days-after-death celebration was our cluster's FIRST EVER supra.) pushed me a little over the edge, especially when being force-introduced to some dude's family and forcefed strawberries, 1 to 2 sugar to strawberry ratio.

But meeting the Trainees was cool.]

The present:
Yep.  Lots of traveling happened.  Lots of sessions ignored.  Lots of s'mores eaten (HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATELYN!) (ALSO LANG.).

Borjomi was not an awful place to be, either; a sprawling metropolis with a park, bursting with fir trees, megruli khatchapuri, and a mighty river.  (Soo... we had Sagarejo. Hm.)

I'll have some visitors from Thursday to Sunday.  Two trainees will be visiting Newvillage, one whose place I stayed at last week while mentoring, another who I've briefly talked to and is pretty much hot stuff.  And considering I watched Golden Girls with the first and had a text conversation that included the phrase "ain't that the truth, sista", I think we'll get along swellingly.

OH!  I ran 5K in the Race for the Cure on Saturday.  A free T-shirt was received and 3rd place in girls was achieved (I think).  Win!!  Next on the running goal horizon: Add 23 miles to those run on Saturday.  Marathon time.  But not really.  I like this little distance.  After that run was one of the few times I've felt truly good this month. Watching two Southern friends argue about barbecue in front of an Italian was another.

I allowed myself to be robbed at the Nike store because I left my 40 lari New Balance bazari shoes at home. Along with my wallet.  I've been on Katelyn's dime since last Tuesday.  Thanks, shuhgah momma!  At least my new shoes are pretty sweet.  They've got neon green.  Matching the ubiquitous fleece I have.  Also many other green things in my possession.

The election was Sunday.  My host mom has been working her tail off for this thing, going door to door and making sure 5th street represents.  Also, true to her character, she brought a pot of flowers to decorate the election site, our school.

I missed Bolo Zari on Thursday/the weekend.  But I've heard ours wasn't that big of a deal, and my friend/former 12th grade student invited me to the banquet that will take place sometime this week.

In other news, it's June today, which marks the anniversary of the month in which I was last in my home country.  As of sixteen days later, it'll be a year.  Crazy, huh?  Also it's been over a year since I graduated.  Hm.

Spring is in the air... kwelgan I davtwalierav

I am dead tired, and there are miles to go after I sleep. So I'm just gonna tell you a couple of highlights that I remember from the couple past days I haven't written.

Homemade hamburgers with awesome barbecue sauce. Like, the best barbecue sauce known to man. This may be biased due to lack of comparison bbq here, but I doubt it. This stuff was the nectar of the gods, man.

Dancing at the Club and watching people do stuff you shouldn't be able to see them doing from the window.

Working all week on the SPA grant with my cp, staying at her house either late or overnight, freaking out in the teacher's lounge over fear that it wouldn't get done, and then watching cp and computer teacher friends pull together and come to Tbilisi so we could price check and get shit done.

It's ice cream season. Also strawberry season.

CP's son, who's a self-proclaimed future advertisement-maker and/or pencil sketch artist (he's a prolific sketcher), bawled when I left their house one day, and rarely lets me leave without giving me a big, juicy kiss on the cheek.

Made lettuce salad (YUM!) today at my cp's house with homegrown lettuce given by one of the teachers. And had more lettuce promised me for Monday by another teacher.


The biggest news of the hour is that this week, two days ago, I had three seventh grade girls join me for my morning anti-notrunning training (good thing I'm also equally training for the stress-eating team. It has more than balanced things out). Yesterday, I had five, including host sis. Last night I slept at cp's house because I spent a lot of time planning and helping her fix her computer, then it was raining, and this morning she had her heart set on feeding me strawberries and oatmeal, so I didn't run. But the girls ran without me and asked where I was. What's going on?!

And.. there's dancing bazari bags on TV. I think it's time to call it a night. Headed to Tbilisi to practice for med sessions for new Trainee trainings, then Patara to the old host fam for some good ol' awkward moments, then Borjomi to hang out at a meet, greet, eat, drink with the newbs, then hightail it back home for a day or two, then back out for Trainee mentoring and delivering said medical sessions on hub day. AH!!!!

Tan da tan. Poco a poco. Little by little.

It's funny that there's a phrase in three languages which represent many, vastly different cultures that describes the same way work gets done.

Then again, maybe not.

So, I'm working with my counterpart to design a tech training in the village.  We need a building, computers, a teacher, and students.  We need 25% community contribution, whether it be money or in kind.


Notwithstanding the fact that the proposal for the SPA grant we're counting on to fund the project is due in like a week, there is much work that remains to be done with the planning stage.  Realistically, my counterpart and I should probably go through project design and management training, and we should have more people on board for this on the planning level.  But my CP is kickass, and although she's got German language exams in July that she's freaking out about, as well as private students every day, housework and a 4-year-old and a husband to take care of and maintain a relationship with, not to mention that thing called school that we actually plan lessons for every day--all this aside, she REALLY wants to work on this project.  I think, though, since she's got about as much experience as I do working on things like this, it'll be pretty difficult.  The director knows what he's doing--he's even got what I think is the SPA handbook from former volunteers.  He drew up a budget and talked to people for the space.  He found a computer literate guy and found a different teacher when the guy who owns the computer building (who's in the regional gov't) told him that the first guy was in the opposition party and no one from the community would take lessons from that guy.

(Isn't work in a developing country with highly dynamic political stances fun?)

Yet, still, I'm worried about the sustainability of the project.  Will this last after 3 months?  How will we pay the bills? the bills be paid.. BY the community?  When I'm gone?

Will the computer lab even last that long?



Changing the subject completely, why is everyone so concerned with my eating habits and marriage status?  SERIOUSLY.
My grandma called me a "bad girl" yesterday because I don't eat meat.  I really wasn't expecting it from this family.  But she still wants me to eat meat and is SOOO concerned that I don't.  I just want to get a book on healthy eating and sit her down and make her read every bit of it.  Maybe then we won't have scrambled eggs that float in an ocean of oil in the frying pan and sit in a wading pool of oil in the serving dish.  Miirtviet.  Gemrielia.

But two other women now, on separate occasions, in separate locations, have told me that I have chubby cheeks now and it looks good on me.  Thanks.  Yeah, stress eating and lack of desire to leave the petchi room will do that to ya.  And comments like this make me feel even better about myself.

And two men have recently, on separate occasions, told me I need to get married.  (One being my host uncle/brother-in-law [I'm going through a host generational identity crisis], the other being his cousin and my counterpart's husband.)  Seriously.  Seriously.  There is just not enough seriousness in this computer to express how serious I am about loathing conversation on this subject.

I've been spending quite a bit of time thinking/worrying about my future and present lately.  I know that I want:
-a warm bathroom with a heated toilet seat, fuzzy toilet seat cover/around the toilet carpet, and maybe a Hawaii/volcanoes of the world theme.
-a space where I can do exercise that's not rocky and uncomfortable and freezing and lacks people that stare at you EVERY DAY like you're an extraterrestrial traveler.
-peanut butter, raisins, and celery.  Lots of it.
-to live with people that I don't feel guilty about not spending all my waking moments with.
-to read more and waste less time online (whoops).
-morning showers.  Warm ones.  Daily.  Or at LEAST every other.

Also, I've noticed a few things that really suck every last drop of hope out of your body.
-Turkish toilets in the winter.
-Going to school, seeing the petchi lit in the bathroom, being excited ALL DAY about finally taking a shower after 5 days of not bathing, but by the time you actually get into the bathroom at night, the water is freezing.
-flicking a glob of frozen toothpaste in your eye.


Some good things?
-The mountains I live by are still really beautiful.  Not that I appreciate them enough, but...
-The people I live with are still good people.  Not that there's not ups and downs, but...
-The people I work with are still good people.  Even though there's BIG DRAMA going down about the English library being locked all day, every day.  I hold it's a power struggle; the older volunteer wants to hold onto the responsibility and the power of The Key.  Her excuse for not having it open is that we'll "lose" books.  And they're doing a lot of good to everyone being locked in the cabinet for all eternity, aren't they?  But I digress.  This is Good Thing time.
-I got some new music to listen to and expand my horizons!  Woot!

Yeah, that's all I got.  Off to do more tsutsunebda. (that's whining, for all you English speakers.)

P.S. I got this e-mail that says, "We will be contact you to set up an interview for the FLEX position."

Blast from the past

11 July 2009
Shabati
Well, I really haven’t had much time to journal this week. It’s been
all I can do to wake up, go to language class for 4 hours, go to lunch
at a volunteer’s house, go back to school and teach English from 3 to
5, lesson plan for an hour or two (or three) then come back home for a
little bit. Then, I might go to a tutoring session at Ana’s (M,T), or
go to Lauren’s to study the steps of lesson planning for a test (W)
and walk home in the dark with Brian and/or Kyle. Or I might take
said test (and not know anything [T]) and wash a few clothes. Or I
might not really feel like doing anything except try to not think
about how bad I am at the language, amatom sheidzleba vkitkhulob
tsigns. (so MAYBE I’m reading a book).

Currently I’m reading Walden Two (still). It’s somehow very fitting
for me to read right now. It’s nearly impossible for me to describe
to my host family what it’s about (“political”… “fiction”? I should
throw “utopia” in there… however, it may be a dystopia. But I haven’t
gotten that far yet.), I’ll try to explain why it’s pertinent.

So, this group of collegiate-type people visit this planned community
in America. The name of the planned community? Walden Two. Duh. So
Walden Two is an intentional community founded on principles of
scientific experimentation for optimization of work. The denizens of
this community only have to work 4 or so hours a day (depending on how
undesirable the job is—poopsmithing is only 2 hours a day), and
everything is constantly undergoing experimentation as to how it could
be done more efficiently.

Side note on the poopsmithing, though—this week, something awesome
happened. Kyle’s family’s outhouse’s level has been rising to an
alarmingly high position, and our level of nervousness while using
said outhouse has been rising at a similarly high rate. But the
outhouse was mysteriously empty one morning. Kyle asked his host mom
about it, and she explained that a truck came in the middle of the
night and went “OM NOM NOM” with a big hose. So now their outhouse is
ready for many more uses. I only wish I had the
time/energy/opportunity to record Kyle’s impression of his mom’s
impression of the truck and post it here for all to enjoy.

But back to utopia. So these people are all living in this society
together, only working 4 hours a day or so, and apparently have good
artists and are happy and whatnot. The people who are in government
are required to spend some of their labor hours in physical labor so
that they don’t forget the people who work primarily in that sort of
job. Also because physical labor is good for you. I think that’s an
excellent idea… if, instead of going to posh health clubs and whatnot,
Americans spent a few hours a week working in a vineyard, we’d
probably be healthier and appreciate our food more. But then we
wouldn’t have delicious chemicalful food. (Mmm, I miss it so. Har
har.) Also, it’d be hard to organize… (or organise. We’re learning
many Britishisms, because most English textbooks here have things like
“lorry” and “favourite,” “tube” and “full stop.” It’s totally fun to
see how the English writers of these textbooks have dealt with the
“American” side of things… what do we do in America? One textbook we
used during lesson planning training had a “funny look at the
differences between America and Great Britain.”

Let me elucidate: *Ahem*. “Americans have two goals in life: to attain
as many things as possible, and to live as long as they can. They
will do anything to achieve these goals. British people are very
content where they are and never strive to gain status.”

Or: “Americans think of themselves first. They will straighten their
children’s teeth and tell them that they are beautiful and urge them
to go out for many extracurricular activities, encouraging them to be
number one in everything. British parents love their children just as
they are, crooked teeth and all.”

That concludes my extended parenthetical discourse on Britishisms.
God save the British writers of Georgian English textbooks.)

Today I’m going to head with Katelyn to Didi Chailuri to pick up
another volunteer, who’s going to stay at Katelyn’s house for the
shabat-kvira (weekend). Raton?? (Why??) Imitom rom it’s Cluster
Exchange Weekend!!! But I really don’t have good friends outside the
cluster, and I wasn’t quick on the uptake, so it’s a Patara weekend
for me. But that’s okay. My host sister has a birthday on kvira
(Sunday), and also Brian’s host grandmother who passed away this week
(ten minutes after we left their house at lunchtime on Wednesday) will
be buried on kvira. So it’s gonna be a busy weekend. Then it’ll be
Monday again and it’ll be
wakeup-school-lunch-school-lessonplan-ho

mework-lessonprep-sleep-wake
up again. Blech. I’m getting just a tad burnt out. But no big deal.
It’ll be fine. Albat.

I don’t know if I mentioned this in former posts, but Georgian moms
are plotting to fatten me up. At least, my mom and sister are—they
discussed it one night, throwing conspiratorial glances at me all the
while, and my sister said, “If you knew what we were talking about,
we’d be in trouble!!”. My mom keeps offering me coffee and chocolate
and cookies and chocolate-filled croissants saying, “ohh, kavas ginda?
Shocolatis ginda? Crossanis ginda? miertvit, miertvit!”

And I had tapli purit (honey and bread) at Lauren’s house when we were
studying for that how-to-be-a-teacher-test that we probably failed.
That stuff was good. No, it wasn’t just good, but there are no words
to describe it that do it justice. Not even dzalian gemruelia.

But now it’s time to go for a little walk. Mivdivart pexit didi chailurshi!
Kargad!


17 July, 2009
Friday

Today is our second hub day, full of health seminars and shots. We
also have our mid-assessment interviews to make sure everything is
going well. I don't have much time left, but I will note two things:
This weekend I'm going to visit Sighnaghi with a few other volunteers.
I hear they have a Mexican restaurant that's got a good reputation--
for Mexican food in Georgia, anyway. I'm super excited. They also
apparently have a beautiful monastery/church or two.
Next: We get our site placement announcements a week from Monday.
Exciting news!

So hopefully I'll get to go to an Internet cafe this weekend in
Sighnaghi because it's a touristy area. But here's my news from last
week!
Kargad!