Culture shock?

It's funny, I thought I'd be going through culture shock already.


But things are happening to make me feel right at home.  Or, more accurately, right-where-I-am-which-is-lack-of-home.
Not that being home for a month wasn't a Good Thing.  Naturally it was great to see my parents and sister and some friends again.  Naturally, it was GREAT (!!) to be able to shop at a grocery store and be able to make wraps and scones and mujadara and chive butter and broccoli 'n' cheese and brownies with writing on 'em-- whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, without fear of taking over kitchen time from someone else.

And then there was the buying my first car ever (meh.) and driving across the country by myself.
Cool parts of the road trip:
-belting along to various songs
-stopping in Sandwich, Illinois
-cool countryside on the backroads
-getting Indian food in Toledo and putting together an Oreos puzzle with Cara at her grandparents' cottage

Not-so-cool:
-getting lost in Illinois
-getting lost in Ohio
-getting lost in Gambrills (like 15 minutes away from my new home)

So, basically, if there is a way for me to get lost, I'll find it.  Which, by the way, continues to this day, but that's fodder for another post.


The main thing making me feel right back where I was--aside from working and working and not having anything to show for it--is our wonderful recurring houseguests.  Ctenocephalides felix.  Aka, the cat flea.  I've documented the ordeal on Twitter as a Pokemon battle.  Excepts include:

pulabean

CTENOCEPHALIDES FELIX appeared! Ender, GO! Enemy C.FELIX used BITE! It's super effective! Ender used SCRATCH! It didn't affect Enemy C.FELIX

pulabean

Mary joined the battle! Mary used TOXIC on Ender, Babushka, and Sami! Enemy CTENOCEPHALIDES FELIX is Poisoned!

 

pulabean

Vacuum, GO! Mary used FLEA COLLAR on Vacuum. Vacuum's ATTACK increased! Vacuum used ABSORB on CTENOCEPHALIDES FELIX. Critical Hit!

So, raise your hand if you thought the insect infestations wouldn't be a prominent part of your lives anymore when you got back to a first-world country?

*sigh*

And it certainly doesn't help that I'm at home three to four days out of seven.  Come on, I will work to my nerves if you'd just hire me... 

You can view my resume here.  If you like what you see, or know of any job opportunities you think I may be interested in, please contact me using contact info listed on the CV.  Thank you so much!

You can't always get what you need...

Hey hey, loyal readership.

Much has occurred since your eyes last desperately searched for an update on the breakneck-paced, exciting life of your favorite White Crow.

If you know anything about my life the past two years, I'm sure you can guess which part of that sentence is a lie and which is truth.

Really, though, news headlines! My good friend who's helped carry me through these past 2 years just had a birthday.  And it was epic.  I'm so glad she's been in my life.  I hope to visit her in sunny Cali when we get back!

I visited Vardzia, the cave city, two weekends ago with a group o' volunteer gals.  It was pretty sweet.  Also I'm glad I didn't spend two years of my life learning this language to get ripped off by sketch taxi drivers.

I just read Memoirs of a Geisha.  Sugoi!

Don't worry, I'm fine, regardless of the political protests that have been going on in the capital.  As one volunteer said, they're all usually home in time to watch the Spanish soaps.  My host sister in law says they don't know what they want politically, they're just trying to stir up some chaos.

Eto's dance group was in Tbilisi this past weekend, with Mtiuluri and Dagestani numbers, and they won 2 medals, for best choreography and jury's choice!  Vulocav!!! : D

A few of the girls at work started running in the mornings today.  I think it's AWESOME!! I hope they last it out!!!

So that's it for the shorts.  Now the long philosophical rant.

I'll first preface this with a bittersweet musing on the fact that my time in God's Garden (not the one people got kicked out of) is coming to an end, quickly.  My innards are rejoicing with the promise of regular intestinal function and reduced stress on the liver.  I'm rejoicing at the prospect of cooking treacle tart and also attending clubs and dance class with my future roommate.  But the possibility that I'll never again seeing these people who I've lived and worked with for two years?  Whose kid am I gonna half-listen to as he tells me about this huge book of fairy tales he read as his mom and I are lesson planning and then catch him in an trap for alligators made of my feet?  Who will toast to the importance of telling your children "you can" instead of "you're stupid" and then solemnly insist to the nosy Georgian woman that I "had a Georgian suitor but the boy's parents forbade him to marry an American girl."?  Who will introduce me as her "sister-in-law"?


For every nostalgic musing on what I'll miss, there are things in the here and now that I won't. This past week, I (again) suffered an attack of nerves in which I made myself physically sick with negative emotions.  Why? One too many straws on this metaphorical camel.  For all the nourishment I'm getting in this country, I don't have the right routine, I don't have the right relationships from the people I work and live with, and I don't have the right intellectual stimulation.

Routine-wise: Too much coffee, bread, alcohol, starch; not enough variety.  I want salads without mayonnaise, tacos, wraps, fruit, ice cream, sweet corn.  I want dance and walks without people telling me to come in for coffee or that I'm fat.  I want showers every day without feeling like an imposition on the household.  I want days where I don't itch from the bug bites I constantly nurse.  I want things to do other than eat and talk with people I have run out of things to talk with other than food and my weight and staying in Georgia (and fixing peoples' computers).

Relationshipwise: I want respect from the children (aka support of a well-established disciplinary system) and the tools/ability/experience to help children with obvious psychological disorders (and their parents with other disorders).  I want respect from the teachers that comes not from the fact that I'm a foreigner with magic knowledge of a language but a competent human being who enjoys gossiping with my colleagues only as an addition to being productive with them and not because there's nothing else to do.  I want to feel like I'm a positive contribution to the household rather than "in the way" in the kitchen or seen as "too busy" to help other people.  And I want my friendships to be reciprocated; I'm always being a guest and never receiving them in return.  I'm overgiving and overgetting in ways that don't leave me balanced.

And I need stimulation!  I am extrinsically motivated; I need to surround myself with people who are self-motivated and share/urge me to be the same.  I need to be with the weirdos; those who see the world a little bit differently than the majority because some impetus has disrupted their lives from being shaped the same as everyone around them.  I have more important things in common with these black sheep, or black goats, or white crows, than I do with all the normally colored American livestock I came from.  They know how to listen to what my heart says even if they didn't know English from birth.  And vice versa.


As this stimulation is lacking, I'm falling farther and farther behind in what I need to do.  I've never been good with timing.  It's connected to my inner motivation; I think my internal clock isn't set quite right, so I need to rely on others so I'm not late for everything and to help me out of pickles when I am late.  However, these last two weeks of school and last two months of service I need to be with the times.



And, thus, life goes on.


P.S. Hungry? See what the world has to offer. ; D

Mokle List.

The Sucky:

• Rainy weather makes our water yellow.  Good thing we have those handy-dandy PC issued filters!
• Rainy weather also makes for less-than-ideal trips to the toilet in the middle of the night in a path that falls right underneath the edge of the roof and ends in a mud patch.
• Rainy weather also makes me want to feel sorry for myself, (more than usual).
• 2 Georgians now have said my Georgian isn't good enough.  Also, apothecary lady when I went to get Mono cards for Internet told me I need to start an English club so her son can go, and proceeded to yell at him for not studying before I could escape.
• Trying to reassure my counterpart she's not a bad mom because she works hard and doesn't have a lot of time for her son.  She is the bomb.  And I don't mean the ones brought to mind by a certain TV station who cried "war with Russia."

The Good:

• My host mom, telling me my Georgian is understandable and that I don't need to work on it because I won't need it after I leave.  Which will be a good and bad time for me, and not really a good time at all for the fam because I'm not annoying.
• Hair cuts that make me feel cute.  All for the low low price of conversation and a gift of tights given to me for women's day by my secondary counterpart (the one who worked with "Lizzy" from Montana [read:not too keen on the newcomer who is notlyssa]), size large (for people 60-80 kilos, or something ridiculous like that).
• A new ring, that I don't need.  Georgian people don't understand the concept of "I want it, but I don't need it."  Thus, when the ring lady comes a knockin', Cara and I yield to temptation to buy ourselves the first things we've bought ourselves in a long time.
• Successful journey to Tsinandali, complete with marshutka "layover" in the middle of nowhere.  Woot!
• Nettles are delicious vittles.  Cluny the Scourge adds his seal of approval.
• Also, a neighbor gave me a pear when I was walking home the other day.  Because he could.  It was delicious.
• Today, I used the fam's old Singer and a pair of the host bro's old jeans and reconstructed the awesome denim skirt that I burned a hole in the butt in out of distractedness (and putting it on a heater to dry.  Oops.).  SEW GOOD!

The Usual in Georgia:

• Breaking resolutions to train for the 2016 Notrunning Team.  My left leg HURTS LIKE AN EMPTY BOX OF CHOCOLATES.
• Study time with host fam consists of a lot of impatience on the part of the kids with the cousin, who learns at a slower pace than they do.  But the host bro reprimanded the sis for laughing, keeping things back on track.  *proud of subtle signs of maturity*

And, it's probably about time I explained my blog's name.  The guys in the family are known as "Kwavebi" = "ravens" or "crows" (not sure), because they're dark skinned with raven hair.  My official last name, as host unc informs me, is Schmid-Mosulishvili.  Thus, I'm a Kwavi, too.  One with significantly different plumage than the rest of the family.  (Tetri = white.)  Tetri Kwavi.

Top 10 Ways to Occupy Oneself During Medical Leave.

10. Sleep.
Although this is difficult with a gash on back of your head and lovely bruises on both elbows and your gluteus growingevermoremaximusingeorgicus.

9. Read.
This improves your morale when you think, "Wow, Vanya Denisovich was thankful at the end of HIS day, and I haven't frozen my butt in Siberia slathering mortar on concrete blocks for 6 oz. of bread lately."
Also may build your desire to go to India after service (sans the joining-the-Indian-mafia bit).

8. Eat.
Compounding on last reason.  However, remember to tell the hostess that you don't like meat (lest you get meat and noodle soup and chicken sticks for lunch), and don't try to go out for dinner with visiting PCVs, as this is a stern no-no.

7. Catch up with people back home.
Lots of get wells for you guys who are concurrently recovering from surgeries and various ailments.  And it's sweet to hear you're doing things like learning knitting and working at book publishing companies and having senior recitals and jazz.  Also, BIG thanks to Kayleigh for my new theme song.

6. Waste time on the Interwebs.
The final frontier knows no bounds.

5. Listen to some new music.
Kyle would approve, and Steven Flaherty would be proud. (?)

4. Resolve to demand dance lessons.
Time to take a stand against the winter blues and that gluteous growingevermoremaximus.

3. Take warm showers.
Neck down or full body, enjoy it while it lasts.  Also the sit down toilet, now only seconds away from your bed!  Also central heat, when it doesn't go out for some unknown reason.

2. Reassure Akhalsopelians.
I'm okay; I'll be back Tuesday; yes, I'm taking medicine; I'd love to go walking with you when I get back; and thanks for the wish to find big and nice love in life.

1. Thank those who are that big and nice love.
Chemebi.  You know who you are.  Happy Valentine's Day, guys.

To do without.

Just because, post's composition lack of action words for point.  Possible.
And lots of down time.

Wednesday, after ice without footing and head WITH bottom stair, anti-azeri-not-knowing-georgian ambulance driver's 30 minute tea at the homestead with my head and blood all over the couch, much time.

Time in ambulance half reading A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, half kartuglish with other doctor in ambulance (Gurian, war experience, English so-so, coworker/friends in Haiti relief).

Finally Tbilisi, swanky hospital, and CT scan.  No amnesia, no loss of consciousness, no brain damage (maybe).  Head cleaninPAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIN!!!!!!!!!!

Educated doctor: "Shes name Salome." (The nice night nurse.) (And doctor's name...? : / ) Buttload of food.  Butt pain + elbow pain + head pain + drugs = sort-of-sleep + not-quite-coherent conversation with sister

Thursday:
Hospital Ritz's check-out.  Hostel Nika's check-in.  More checkups.  House arrest.  Surprise!! Visitors!  Online conversations with sister, G9, and G10-to-be.

Friday:
Still house arrest.  The Office catch-up.  "Sunday best" Paula, minus shower.  Phone interview for FLEX program-- ise ra.  Blegh for phones.  But with 11 other friend applicants, nonplussed.  Rest of day: online nonsense, talkin' with Kyle-i, Georgian lasagna, shower from neck down.


Summary:
Visits from non-medical personnel: 3
Phone calls/texts from Akhalsopelians about my health: 6
Comfortable sleeping positions: 0
Time from village to Tbilisi: with blood on your head, longer than necessary
Future plans: 2 books, 3 Office episodes, James Bond movie, chocolate, showers (multiple, hot).
 Demands for dance lessons.
 Reclamation of thwarted plans to visit neighbor/friends.
 T-shirt-- front: "Life is like Eurasia." back: "Your mom is like Eurasia."
 Grad school for linguistics?

Recent brushes with death and realization that my life < aprovechado : 1

Medicine in the Great Land of Sakartvelo.

So.  This shall be a small update, as I am feeling sicker than a dzaghls.  So, I think an appropriate topic should be a step-by-step guide on how to take care of yourself in the wonderful land of Georgia.

1)Burns.  Anything from a large burn covering most of your foot because you tried to can something with a used glass jar that has a crack on the bottom--to a small burn on your hand because you spilled scalding water from your teacup (if it's not scalding, it can't make tea. especially since you only stick the teabag in the water for a good three seconds, tops, then share the same chaisperi with the rest of the family.)
Should you receive such a burn, immediately cover your burn in oil, cry in pain while reluctantly applying aloe gel offered to you by your American boarder, and cut open any blisters formed.  Then, cover with mysterious yellow mousse-like substance that resembles spray foam insulation.  Call local doctor.  Let American listen to doctor speaking on telephone, saying, "Yes, they already cut it," (or something like that in Georgian).  Be prepared to be unable to walk for weeks and know that your work friends will ask the American about your health on marshutkas.
Should the burn be small, skip all steps except for the application of yellow spray foam.

2) Nutrition.  There's a lot to be said here.
Basics include: look strangely at your American if he/she doesn't eat bread and potatoes and khatchapuri and other starches when they're all offered.
Drink 5+ cups of coffee a day; instant, Turkish/remain-y, and/or American brewed.
Eat plenty of cheese but never have constipation.  (Riddle me this.)
Snack constantly.

To my family's awesomeness factor, they're totally cool with me limiting myself to one cup a day, though they still ask me every time if I want coffee.  I think this is just the hospitality factor; it'd be rude not to offer.

3) Stomachaches.
Causes: Wearing thin slippers and getting cold.
Not wearing slippers and getting cold.
Not wearing a scarf and getting cold. (though I now realize I've never been yelled at for my lack of hat.)
Not wearing enough layers and getting cold.
Treatment: "tea" made of fruit muraba (syrupy jam).  Mineral water.  Warming up by the petchi.

4) Headaches.
Treatment: not Ibuprofen.  That's only for shots.


I keep thinking I live in a different country than the rest of the volunteers.  My counterpart (one of them) is motivated and wants to work.  I eat fresh fruits and veggies, usually.  Now, of course, it's a bit sparser pickins, but we've got plenty of muraba and compote (which also unnecessarily ups my sugar intake, cause I eat buttloads of chocolate and nom nom squares.)  I get along with my family and spend a lot of time with them chatting and yukking it up over racking up frequent buyer points on pharmacy reward cards by bringing in real daisies (cause the cards have daisy pictures on them).  My students say that girls can't always do what guys do because of physical inability.  I'm inclined to agree with them to a certain extent, but managed to protest enough until they agreed that girls and guys could do "each others'" work if they had to.  My counterpart and I talk about scrapbooking and taxis and xerox machines and good and bad advertising.  Some of the teachers in the teacher's lounge rolled their eyes when I was interrupted from a normal conversation by a demand from a P.E. (read: male) teacher to say "bakaki tskalshi kikinebs" for his amusement.  That same teacher also asks me every day, without fail, how I am and if I'm cold and when I want him to "warm me up" by feeding me wine. (not bad, it's winter, and after lessons).

Then there's the interactions in the store when I ask for the price of a glass pan that looks the right size for lasagna (40 GEL? Ew.) and actually get the "You're a foreigner?  You speak Georgian?  You teach English? Are you married?  Oh, you should find yourself a nice Georgian boy." Ick.

But life in the village continues on rather normally.  We have no heat in the school yet, because we're supposed to get central heating.  By the middle of January.  Normally, I wouldn't believe that date.  Remember when my school was supposed to open a month earlier than it did?  But they're working on the heating.  During my lessons.  I had a chunk of wall fall near my feet when I was trying to lead a failed impromptu game of pictionary/charades in seventh grade (brought into existence because the xerox wasn't working, so we couldn't make copies of the test scheduled for that day).

It's usual in Georgia.