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.

I'll post soon, I promise...

I know the masses are screaming for more fun, witty tales of my sxovreba in Georgia, and I'm not one to make people mad at me.  Not even teachers who will never lesson plan with me and so I dropped classes with her.  Still trying to be her friend.  Call it peacemaker, call it people pleasing, I just like everyone to be happy, especially when they're around me.

But though I'm suffering from a slight touch of the insomnia tonight, you just get the teaser.  I'm gonna lie in bed and pretend the world doesn't exist right now.

I probably won't have time to write tomorrow.  We're prepping food for the funeral Thursday, that of Shorena's grandma.  That woman always asked about me and blessed me the traditional Georgian "grow up! be happy!" in such a sincere manner that if the occasional "get married!" was thrown in there, too, I didn't mind so much.  Here's to you.

A few other headlines:

Hopefully we'll have some Halloween activities underway.

Ambivalent about computer courses, wave 2, with indefinite start date. Hm.

A committee of 3 including me are coordinating the planning/buying/making of the Thanksgiving dinner at the all-volunteer conference in 2 weeks.

Lab remonti hopefully underway soon with program pointers from tech saavy folk.  Also, there's this: Free educational and/or computer games for kids! Win!!!

Magda wrote a test for the 5th graders on the computer and printed it out on our NEW PRINTER.  Totally all by herself because I was gone.  She rocks my world.

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.

Nothing to Write Home About... ?

So, as I was breaking my notrunning team training program this morning, something occurred to me which has been percolating since yesterday or so.  I greeted one of my 6th grade boys who usually hangs around the stadium the same time as me.

Turn on my jammin' tunes.  I've got some new ones, thanks to a certain charitable donor.  And the words seem to reflect my line of thought for the past few whatever-periods-of-time.  Let me illuminate.

Yesterday I had a chat.
Rick: "You know, you should keep writing.  You've got good stuff."
Me: "Most of the time it's like, 'Today I picked chinchari.  Hooray.' Nothing really interesting."

By interesting, I mean writing style.  Like, I just word vomit on the keyboard and whatever comes out is what you, my zillions of loyal fans, are stuck reading, if you make it to the end of the entries.  Sorry I'm not very entertaining.  I seem to have lost that in the shuffle of everyday life in the Twilight Zone.  (That along with patience.  There's only so many times I can handle "Does she like xinkali? What's her age? Do you like Georgia? You don't like meat? [finally realizing, after asking my CP and listening to me answer for myself multiple times that, I do understand simple questions.  Then...] American people are cold," without losing all willpower against clumping all Georgians into one category, that of ridiculous goimi, and answering their questions with the same tone they are asked.  That tone would be the one you use with slow children.

But anyway.  I also met a Fulbrighter yesterday when picking up some ice cream before getting on the marshutka headed the opposite way of Ortachalla station, where I wanted to go to catch the marsh home.  He was amazingly helpful in providing resources and had really cool research, and encouraged me to look into Fulbright.  But... as I stop and think, I really haven't done much to impress people I will solicit employment from except "put a good effort in going through the motions of teaching, even though the best of her students still write things like 'I will poor.  I will not steal because I will not like steal.'"  No extra activities, not for Earth Day (local bio/geo teacher/host fam member planned that on her own), no SPA grant or progress since Project Design and Management training... no nothing.  I barely manage to keep up with visiting the neighbors and helping the FFG advisor teacher download flash to get Farmville to work.  And I've felt like I've been off gallivanting with my friend Ana a lot and neglecting the fam.  More stress on myself.

So why was I in Tbilisi on a weekday in the first place?  Well, this past weekend I've been chilling at home.  So I decided I'd help out with some of the garden work.  I learned გამარგვლა (gamargwla [weeding]).  I also planted potatoes.  A whole friggin field of potatoes.  Mind you, I really don't like potatoes.  I'll eat them when I haven't had enough bananas for the potassium, but, really, my starch needs are covered.  Whatever.  The point is, the day after weeding, my pinky slowly swelled up to the size of a hefty cigar, with the same amount of flexibility.  Also there was a red line from my pinky to my elbow.

Called the doc, got a blood test, an x-ray from the cool Russian guy who x-rayed me before, spent the night at the PC-approved hostel (if I knew it was gonna be an overnight, I would have brought extra underwear...), and got put on antibiotics.  But my finger was starting to heal itself, so whatev.

I became the impromptu PR for the docs to get G9s to present at PST sessions.  I may participate in a couple of their sessions as well as (hopefully) "Host Family Integration" and "Avoiding Unwanted Attention."

I also got to see my old LCF and awesome friend Ana, which made my indeterminable period of time.  And met some PCVs from Armenia and Azerbaijan who were in town to judge Writing Olympics, trans-Caucasus level.

Also, ice cream is back in a maghazia near you.  Praise be to-- well, you know.

Speaking of which, I was Baptismnapped today while attempting to plan lessons.  My CP was asked to be an emergency godmother, because the grandfather died so the kid needed to be Baptized STAT (or something like that), so we went to the baptism, at which the child screamed bloody murder when the priest brushed oil on her forehead/cheeks/feet.  We then went to the obligatory supra.  Neither of us really wanted to go, but it's tradition and The Right Thing To Do.  And when the natural progression turned to the unique topic of "You Should Marry a Georgian," I calmly explained to them that I would only marry a man who "knows house's work, like washing the dishes and cleaning, because there are men like that in America, and we usually share the chores."  Usual rounds of laughter from the men, and a "Georgian men--UGH!" from like the main lady there.  Hooray!

So, like I said, nothing remarkable going on in my life.

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."

Would you hire me?

Dear (program director guy):

If, above all, you are looking for someone to create a rigid classroom atmosphere that keeps to a strict time schedule, that may not be me. At least, not alone. Teaching in Georgia is teaching me both the value of keeping appointments and the difficulty to do so when there is no cultural expectation to do so.

I am characteristically thorough and procrastinate, and here I have been used to both teachers and students walking in late to class. One day, when I was late to fifth grade, a fifth grade girl was late, too. My partner teacher consoled her by saying, “It's okay. Everyone runs late sometimes. I've been late, this boy's been late, even Paula has been late before.” This revelation embarrasses me from my American perspective because I realized that I have been adopting habits and values that I do not necessarily want to adopt.

Perhaps the most valuable lesson from my time abroad is noting annoying cultural discrepancies and how to deal with culture shock. If I just cannot stand the constant urgings to get married to a Georgian, I know to force myself to laugh it off and then gently let the matchmaker know that while I am flattered, marriage is not part of my purpose for being in the country (or give the cryptic answer “we'll see,” if I am not up to a debate about gender roles). I know now that my Nalgene water bottle is an amazing novelty, sure to garner queries from students and teachers alike. And I quickly learned to grab a scarf before I go to school, even if I do not need it, to slightly dissuade my coworkers from scolding me for not dressing warmly enough. Using this firsthand experience, I wrote for the alternate handbook to help the incoming group of volunteers know what to expect; I can help advise students from this region with developing their own skills for adapting to cultural idiosyncracies.

Studying abroad in Spain and working as a Peace Corps Volunteer have given me skills in adapting materials for teaching. I plan for lessons every day with one of my partner teachers and for the other, combining book exercises with physical response activities and dialogues, drawing on experience from leading English clubs in Spain as well as Peace Corps' pre-service training. On occasion, I taught a few classes on my own when my partner teacher was unable to come to school, explaining activities in English and Georgian when necessary.

I have mastered enough control over Georgian to have conversations with my host mother about the educational system, politics, health, gender roles, and other topics beyond “I am hungry.” While my Georgian is by no means fluent, I have learned to listen and circumlocute and encourage my students to do the same.

I am familiar with the FLEX program from personal experience, but my former host sister applied for the program. She made it to the third round. She is a brilliant student with critical thinking skills, political, social, and global awareness that rival my colleagues, far beyond those her age and from her tiny village. If a student of her caliber cannot participate, nor any of the students from my village, I would very much be honored to help train the students who have been selected.

Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,

Paula G. Schmid

I need to get to bed, but I was proud of this baby.

Big things are going down in the New Village.  They involve grant money, my counterpart, and plans being made.  COOPERATION?!

Next time, on Dragon Ball Z!  Magda and Paula join forces to bring modern technology to the middle of nowhere!  Will they conquer petty villager feuds?  Will they raise enough funds?  Will Paula ever understand more than 20% of what comes out of her director's mouth?  Tune in!