28 June 2009
Sunday
It's gvira today, and I think there will be much adventuring today. We're going to visit the castle finally sometime today, and we're going to a 40-day-after-funeral supra at Katelyn's place, and I want to bathe today.
And yesterday was very event-filled, as well. We had shabatis skola (Saturday school), and then lunch at Katelyn's house. Mind you, she lives like 20 minutes away from the school, uphill. And Lauren was invited to a supra in the woods type deal with a volunteer from another village and his host family and the other volunteers in the village. We hiked back to our houses, explained (sort of) what we were doing to our host families, changed clothes, and hiked down to the highway to catch a marshutka. A marshutka is a gregarious, vagarious, nefarious, but mostly precarious looking mini-van that drives between villages for a small fare; it's kind of like a cross between a bus and a taxi. There're how we roll here in Georgia. So with our limited language skills, Lauren and I managed to catch a marshutka to the right village—although, he dropped us off at the edge of town and not at the school. But all we had to do was walk up the road a ways, so it was okay. We met up with a volunteer and went to meet the family.
Limited communication is so hard. You don't want to feel like you're shunning the family, but it's so easy to talk in English and so hard to ask “rogor aris qartulad?” (how do you say this in Georgian?) every few minutes to the younger person in the group who inevitably speaks English. But we got to hike to their vineyard and garden, saw their plants, had a mini-supra in the woods, sang songs, and all was good. The bebia and another guy were amazing singers. I had my camera there, and another volunteer took pictures and a couple videos with it, so hopefully I'll get it from him sometime (I lent him my card).
So, they sang, right? And, I had brought the pictures of my friends, which showed I was in choir. So, we Americans were asked to sing. We sang the Star-Spangled Banner, because they sang what sounded like Georgia, the Beautiful. It was such an awesome time. I'm very glad we went. But we have to be back on-site by 7 every night for safety and security reasons, so we had to leave early.
Instead of catching a marshutka back, a family friend who has a car offered to drive us back. We got in their car, picked up the guy's daughter who spoke English and wanted to meet the Americans, and drove back to our village while we tried to explain to the girl that we work for the US government and aren't taking Georgian jobs. We think she thought we are taking jobs that she could have... so it was a little awkward sitting with her in the back when we turned into our village and the car broke down. Now, Lauren and I could have walked, no prob, but we wanted to make sure they would be able to make it back. Someone from Better-a helped them out, and we made our way to Lauren's place. I didn't want to have to have them drive me up to my place, so I just got off with Lauren. I'm glad that happened, because Lauren and I are on the Party Planning Committee for the 4th of July Cultural Event Day to be held next shabati, so we got some good ideas down for that.
It's gonna be awesome! We're hoping for lots of traditional American foods, like hamburgers, potato salad, baked beans, chips, ice cream sandwiches, brownies, etc. The staff will try their darndest to make it happen. We're also hoping to get some wood to make boards, a saw, and washers for Washers/Corn hole with washers, or maybe some horseshoes and stakes for Horseshoes. We'll get some inter-village competitions going on, and it'll be awesome. We get to invite two people, and I invited my two host sisters (last night during the storm when the electricity got damaged and went out). They are super excited about coming.
I really want to learn Georgian so that I know my host mom and dad don't think I'm a spazz. I want to have them teach me how to cook Georgian dishes, and I want to be able to talk with them without a translator, so that they can tell me things like how to heat up water for my bath without me feeling like an absolute idiot because I don't know what the Georgian word for “turn it off” is, so I stand there looking (and feeling helpless). Actually, the other night, I had a dream about my teeth being rotted and held together with rickety dentistry, and then they just fell out in a big chunk and my mouth gushed blood everywhere. I mean, it was pouring out by the bucketful. I think it was just a reflection of how helpless I feel, that I don't even have good, strong teeth to serve my most basic of needs.
And you never realize how much trash we as Americans create. Our group discussed it at shabati skola, and then Lauren and the others and I talked about this yesterday at the mini supra in the woods. We volunteers have barely been able to locate a single trash can in our homes. I know we have three; one under the kitchen sink, one next to the commode, and one outside somewhere. But they're all very small. Most garbage is placed deliberately on the side of the road. But, really, houses don't create that much garbage, it seems. And I feel tons guiltier about my half-an-hour showers when I take my bucket bath and don't use a whole bucket.
Anyway, speaking of which, I should go start that.
01 July, 2009
samshabati
So, I'm going to go out with my host sister in about 20 minutes, but I want to get a little journaling in before I do. Yesterday was pretty intense for me. We had our mini LPIs (language proficiency interviews). How did it go, you may wonder? Well. I wasn't awful, I suppose. But I was nowhere near being able to understand her on the first go. Or second. Or after some deliberation. So I felt pretty numb until sitting in the hot classroom talking about methods to teach English vocabulary to Georgian students just fried my brain. I got home, sat at the magida, attempted to do homework, decided that a little resting would be a good idea, then as soon as my head hit the pillow, before I knew it I was leaking like a faucet. So I sneaked down to the abazana to wash my face with some cool water ('cause it's so damn HOT in the afternoons! [and 'cause I'd made myself all hot and bothered and flushed]) and my host mom saw me looking miserable. It made it worse that I couldn't really tell her what was bothering me—because that's exactly what was bothering me! Language barriers, pardon my language, suck balls. She called Tatia in to translate my half-intelligible mumblings. But she hugged me and told Tatia to get my water, and told me to not do any studying that day. So I took some time off in my room and just lay there in my bed. I was aware-ened by an SMS from Katlyn, another volunteer, who invited me to go play frisbee with the kids at the school stadium. That jump-started me to wind up the Victrola of myself back to life and got my butt out of bed.
We went to the stadium and threw some frisbee and played some volleyball. I was coerced into an Americans vs. Georgians game. Somehow we won! Lauren and Brian and Kyle totally carried the team; Katelyn and I were just kinda there. Sometimes we helped the ball stay aloft, so that was okay. Whatevs. Then I decided to go back home. I'd told Katelyn that I had felt a little off that day, so she talked to me. She told me to keep in context how long I've been here, that I am learning, that no one becomes fluent even in 2 years, and then she told me about her communicating with her host mom last year. Sometimes... you don't need to understand the words to understand the sentiment. Tsota gavige... vpikrob.
Then she gave me a Snickers and told me to take one weekly, as needed. I think that's a pretty darn good prescription to follow.
The days are just so long, though, and simultaneously so short. I feel like I get very little done, but it takes so long to do it all.
I do feel better today. Our group's dynamic is just so that it's hard not to be happy when I'm with them, even if we're learning a ridiculously different-from-English language at a ridiculously rapid pace. Good satchmeli (food) helps, too. Mmm, kveli.
I think my sister's ready to go out. I'm not too keen on it, but it might make me feel better. I'd also like to have some tutoring with Ana tonight, too, so we'll see. Blegh!
02 July, 2009
hootshabati
The days definitely have their good and their bad. Yesterday, the good points: I talked with my host mom about coffee. She's very interested in differences between America and Sakartvelo, as are pretty much all Kartvelian people. So I told her that we have instant coffee and drip coffee. I also told her about espresso and cappuccinos, but I don't want to try to explain Starbucks. I don't understand Starbucks myself. That was actually part of our lunch conversation today; Ana asked about coffee, too. We have Turkish coffee here after every meal and whenever we visit a house and whenever I ask for it at breakfast time and randomly throughout the day sometimes. Here's how you make it:
One covsi-ful (spoon) of Turkish (VERY finely ground) kava (coffee)
One covsi-ful of shakari (sugar)
One pikrulob-ful (teacup) of water
Put all ingredients in tiny saucepan, bring just to a boil, pour in pikrulob. Enjoy with chocolates, tea cakes, cookies, biscuits, whatever. rogor tsginda.
Om nom nom. My host mom's coffee is the best. It's so thick you can almost chew it. I seriously like it. And I'm getting used to the really, really salty khveli (cheese). It's expecially good with cornbread (tchadi). I don't remember if I already wrote this, but I helped my host mom make tchadi one day! Well, all I did was form the dough that she had made into lumps and stick it in the oil. Two of them, to be exact. I know, cool, right? But hopefully I'll get to help her with more food prep, because I have a presentation about Georgian food to do at the end of PST. Actually, she said I might make pizza tomorrow night. But my sister is fasting for a religious holiday. Which means she can't eat dairy products. We had Georgian style pizza tonight—with tomatoes, peppers, dill, and instead of tomato sauce, mayo. Yeah, that's right. It was actually incredibly delicious. I could barely believe my taste buds. I'm not one for mayo, usually, but it was tasty. I don't know how me making this pizza thing is going to go. My mom'll have to show my how to make homemade crust, and I'll have to guess on the tomato sauce. Maybe I have a recipe in here somewhere...
But, other things. I only went to the stadium for a short time gushin (yesterday). I called Ana and worked on words with her. Verbs, like vskhovrob sakartveloshi (I live in Sakartvelo) vmushaob skolashi (I work at school) vamzadeb sachmels (I prepare food) vaketeb davalebas/khatchapuri (I do homework/make cheesybread), visveneb saklshi (I rest at home), vgegmav gaketeels (I plan lessons), vkitkhulobe tsigns (I read books), vtsair tsigns (I write books), etc. It's a good time. It's actually just about the most mentally taxing thing I've ever done. Learning this language at this rate is very wearing. And I'm not actually learning as much as I'd like.
But hopefully I can still be a good masstavlebeli without knowing Georgian superwell. And hopefully I can still do whatever I'm supposed to do here without knowing Georgian as well as I'd like. Or maybe I will learn it pretty well. Who knows? We'll have to see.
Apparently people like me, though. Last night, Tatia and I went to get milk from one of the neighbors. The bebia there offered me food, so I had a sour cream (matsoni) cake and she gave me three more. She asked if I liked matsoni, and I said yes, and she gifted us a jar of matsoni! Holy crap! When we were back eating dinner saklshi, Tatia commented that everyone seemed to like me; when we played volleyball at the stadium yesterday, there was a girl there who's staying with Lauren's family (she's a cousin or something). She'd run with Lauren and I in the morning once, and she stood next to me after the American-Georgian volleyball game. She was afraid of the ball, so I was trying to tell her to conquer her fear and just put herself out there and try to hit it (easier said than done). Just then, the ball came and smacked me square in the face. So that didn't really help my case. She left the game soon after, and I wasn't too far behind her.
But I was talking about people liking me. Tatia talked to this girl, with whom I'd maybe exchanged 10 words with (2 kartulad, 8 English), and she said she liked me and I was nice and whatnot. “Why do people like you so much?” Tatia asked. “I don't really know,” I said.
Then, today, we had TEFL training in our village. As we were going into the classroom, we passed some of the staff. One of the ladies I had attempted conversation with earlier last week—and maybe got “how are you” and “what's your name” and “no I don't want to marry a Georgian,” and she greeted me with a kiss on the cheek (it's kisstomary here). She's probably the first person other than my sisters to do that. It made me feel special. And either yesterday or the day before yesterday (gushintsin [Georgian has a word for that!]) I talked with an older lady on my way to run in the morning. And she had to ask me to repeat “how are you” because she's hard of hearing and my accent's bad, but she called me a kargi gogo, I think. A good girl, that is. Aw. : )
Also, tonight I wrote in Khatia's book of letters and drawings. She asked me to write her a letter about the good and bad of her character. I've only known her erti gvira (one week), which I told her, but she asked me to write anyway. So I did. And I drew her a dzagli (dog) smelling a sunflower, because I could. By the by, dzagli in dative case is one of the most fun words ever-- “dzaggles.” Yeah. It's pretty kickin'. Or, as we say, it's the muraba (jam)!
There was some bad, though. A couple times now, about once a week, I've felt sick to my stomach. While I love Turkish coffee, Turkish toilets are a completely different story. Using Turkish toilets when you aren't feeling well is, well, the pits. Blech. Oh, but I'm sure you all want to hear that I've not too bad an aim. Pretty darn proud of that.
There are probably other things that I wanted to write about but have forgotten. I should get to bed for tonight, anyway. I'll add onto a list of things I'd like:
Frisbees (kids just love 'em. They're not common here.)
magazines (for news and for cutting pictures out of to use in lessons)
pocket pack tissues (maybe, if I can't find them in the bigger villages/Tblisi)
cinnamon maybe
nice pens, pencils, notebooks
love
Meh, that's it for now, vpikrob.
04 July 2009
Shabati
So, just got back from the American Independence Day party. It was pretty awesome and intense. However, we were lacking the one thing that makes the 4th of July American: FIREWORKS. The Party Planning Committee and I were very disappointed. But there was lots of food: hamburgers, soyburgers, "potato salad", chips, potato pie (SO American...), peaches, apricots, watermelon, soda, ice cream sandwiches, and a birthday cake for the USA. We're 233! Yaaaay! We also had a three legged race, a water-cup-bucket race, a water balloon toss, Georgian dancing (I tried to join!), random singing of Don't Stop Believing, dodgeball, frisbee, and bunnies! It was actually a lot of fun. Great success!!
So now we're in Sagarejo. I'm gonna buy some tskali, because we won't have a hub day for two weeks again. Next week we start our summer school. I'm a little.... frightened. Not too sure how this is all gonna go down. But hopefully it'll be okay. Lesson planning is weird for me. But I think I'll get used to it.
Anyway, I'm gonna go buy that tskali (water) now, because I am parched. Lots of love!
Saturday, July 4
Friday, June 26
Week one.
21 June, 2009
Sunday
I have now been at my host family's house for one night. I'll tell you all about them as I get to know them better. But here are a few first impressions.
They seem very well off. Although there's no running water (I'm not sure if it's broken or if they just don't have it hooked up or what; there is a tap and showerhead in the abazana (bathing room)... yeah, although there's no running water, guess what's in a room right next to the abazana and not 30 meters away from the house? That's right, a TualeTi. I have a commode! Awesome sauce! Too bad I won't be here in the winter; that would be wonderful!
Other than the facilities, the rest of the house seems very nice (dzhalian kargia [it's very good]). I'm not too sure about taking pictures quite yet; maybe when my qartveli is better, I will feel more comfortable asking. I want you to see this house, though-- it's HUGE! My room's almost as big as my room back in Iowa! And the whole place just looks kinda ritzy; they have nice heirlooms and whatnot for decoration. The house is very aged-looking and the doors don't shut easily, but it is super nice. My room doesn't have a lock, like Peace Corps promised. But I'm not worried about the security issue with the family. I trust them. And they reassured me that there was always someone at home, and when we all take a trip, the gate will be locked.
It's a good thing the house is big ) One thing, though-- there are two young girls (ori gogobuia [?]) who speak English. The older one, who either just finished or will be in ninth grade, Tatia (TAH-tee-ah), is VERY adept at speaking English. She's probably as good or better than some of our LCFs (Language-Cross Cultural Facilitators). Seriously, she's amazing. She wants to become an English teacher. I hope she thinks about working with Peace Corps. I'll fosho drop the idea to her later. The younger girl, Khatia (phlegm-tee-ah), can definitely hold her own as well. She'll probably become just as good. They're both very patient and helpful, repeating things for me a zillion times that I've already heard twelve times earlier in the same day.
Last night Tatia told me that my accent was lovely. I laughed and then wished her goodnight in the regional way (which she told me probably four times and I repeated back to her, but can't remember it for the life of me).
Clare, you might take a liking to Khatia. She LOVES Sponji (aka SpongeBob). She apparently has a shirt and a hair thing and other Sponji memorabilia, although I've only seen the shirt. I woke up shvid saatze (at seven) to go for a run in the village with Tatia, but then she didn't want to go. She warned me that she likes to go to bed late and get up late and might not want to go. She said something about there being police out so that I should just run on the balcony. So Khatia ran with me on the balcony.
Khatia tired herself out quickly (I think she just liked the novelty of running with me and asking me my favorite Amerikeli Xili/khili [American fruit (no English equivalent for that first phoneme)]), so I ran for a while longer alone, all the while counting from one (erti) to ten (arti) so that I get better at it. During orientation, when we were staying at the hotel, the first night after the language lesson I was feeling particularly freaked out. Shawn, one of the volunteers, saw me silently stewing and studying and drilled me on the numbers until I could finally say them. That was really cool of him. He also randomly called me today and we compared living situations. He can speak Russian with his host dad, but I've got Tatia da Khatia, and I also have an in-house TualeTi, wheras he does not. Bad luck! And, Mary, I already told you—he was the Catholic guy who's skeptical of the anti-demon medallion you gave me. And said you should get me a female saint one instead of Benedict or Boniface (I don't remember which it was).
Speaking of religion, Georgians are very interested in what religion you are. It was one of the first questions Tatia asked me yesterday. I embarassedly had to say “me ar religiosi var.” but “chemi ojaki qristiani aris” (I am not religious but my family is Christian). I could tell she thought I was a weirdo as she pointed out the family biblia and explained to me that in Georgia, children are the same religion as their parents.
After eating dinner Georgian style on the balcony-- well, I guess you probably want to hear about that. The food. sachmeli. The place setting is just like we're used to; tepshi, changali, dana, da khelsakhotsi) plate, fork, knife, napkin (small and always folded into a triangle). The Georgians must not really like mixing their food that much. You help yourself from each serving plate, and when your plate is dirty, they offer you a new one. The waiters at the hotel did this, and Tatia did that to me at sauzme (sow's-may [breakfast]) this morning. (which I remember by “saucing me” which, in my mind, can kind of connect to eating and/or food. Hey, whatever works, right?) And the food is GOOD. The Puri (bread) is DELISH-- (gemruelia [the food's worth a gem... works for me!]). KhatchaPuri (like a quesadilla on a pita) is om nom nom, as is lobiani, a bean-pita sandwich. Salata of pomidori da kitri (tomatoes and cucumbers with parsley[?]) is good, too. There's often jonjoli, pickled capers, which is served with pickles and what looks like the peppers that come in pizza boxes. And there's the pâté like stuff that's made of spinach or new beans aka green beans or... plum? eggplant? beet? Something purple, I forget. I think it's beets. Whatever it was, I liked it. That's sometimes got walnuts in it and such. The soco (mushrooms) are fan-freaking-tabulous. There's also a few meat dishes—cold chicken, some beef, pork with onions, and sausage-y things. I haven't really tried them because I've come out of the vegetarianeli closet finally. It's great now because it's during fasting time (I think?) when Christian Georgians don't eat much if any meat. The kh'veli (cheese) at the hotel near Tbilisi was a bit too salty for my taste, but the cheese that my host family (chemi masp'indzeli ojakhi) has is very good.
Speaking of cheese, I grated cheese and made spag'eti today! masp'indzeli dedachemi (my host mom) is about the most patient and gracious woman in the world. I can't really even understand most simple things like “help” “day” “now” and so forth, and even though I say them over and over again, I still forget things like “me mvars” (I love...) “me mqavs, ra gqvia” (I have, you have) and so on. I'm still struggling to remember the pronouns! And it takes me ten minutes before I can say “kargia” (good), “ar vitsi” (I don't know), and “ver gavige (gah-vee-gay—I didn't understand)” And I've said those things half a squintillion times already! But my host mom was patient even though I understand her as if she were talking to a brick wall. Since the translators were out with their friends, we passed around my lexiconi until she figured out I wanted to help her with lunchi, and then she trusted me in her kitchen, sort of! It was awesome. I'm so thankful that the Georgians I've met thus far are nothing but kind. (My host mom and dad, who I ate with, even said the spag'eti was gemruelia!) So it's awkward, but good.
I'm so overwhelmed with this language thing, though. I want to learn it so badly, but I don't even know how to go about doing it anymore, and I'm jetlagged and eating weird food and not able to drink tap water for three months because I might get hepatitis and I haven't been able to get good sleep the past three nights even with the aid of Benadryl (which is thankfully provided in our med kits). I hope my body starts to adjust and my brain starts to adjust. The language is the key to everything! If I don't learn it, I won't be able to communicate well without the aid of a translator (evidenced by lunchi today) and I will be in more danger, as I won't be able to understand the kids in the marshutkas (public mini-vans that run between villages).
22 June 2009
Monday
My suspicions about my family's wealth continues to grow. Today, after the first school session (four hours of language with two fifteen minute breaks), we had lunch (lunchi) at our house. Chemi megobreri were very impressed. The size of the house, the lamazia (lovely) hand-painted walls and ceilings, and the t'ualet'i all impressed them very much. The t'ualet'i impressed them most of all; after the TEFL meeting Sagaregoshi (in Sagarejo), we came back to our village and were going to walk around, but first everyone wanted to come back to my house to use the toilet.
23 June 2009
Tuesday
Yeah... last night was interesting. But the rest of yesterday Pirueli (first). (And when is my life NOT interesting?)
So, they all used the toilet here because it's better than what they have, apparently. And then we walked down past the crossroad to where Lauren's street comes to the main road, then I walked back. Oh, and Kyle walked Kaitlin home. But they got lost, and Kyle's host family called Tengo (the program director... basically the go-to guy when stuff goes wrong. Other than our resident LCF, Ana, of course. She's awesome. More on her later.)
So that went down. There was another minor crisis over the weekend. One of the guys from the neighboring village was trying to go to sleep, but the dogs were barking loudly, so he couldn't. He brought some Rite-Aid gel ear plugs, so he used them. Problem solved, right? Wrong. Not only did he not hear his alarm the next morning, but when he tried to pull out the plugs, the right one broke in half. He kept trying to get more pieces out; he only succeeded in getting small chunks and pushing the remaining chunk (though getting smaller and smaller) farther into his ear. So he called the Med staff and was sent to Tblisi. The first doctor refused to do anything about it; apparently she didn't want to touch him because he was American. So he sat in Tblisi while the head PC med lady tried to arrange things and talked about calling Washington. Tom, the mokhalise (volunteer) was nearly in tears because he thought he was going to get ET (early termination). He stayed overnight at a hotel in Tblisi, and the next day they head PC med lady took him to a Europe-wide famous specialist. The guy laughed at him. He couldn't believe the other doctor wouldn't have done such a simple operation. So the doc took some kind of ear-keeping-open mechanism, stuck it on the volunteer, and got the earplug out in five minutes. How crazy is that? The volunteer is now doing well and back, good as new.
Today skolishi (in school) we worked on survival phrases (sad aris t'ualet'i? sad aris chemi ojakhi?) Although I think if we don't know where the toilet and our rooms are by now, we'd be in big trouble. But there are some useful phrases I still need to study-- ukatscravahrgh (sorry) da tavi mt'kiva, da mutseli mt'kivai (and my head hurts, and my stomach hurts). But that's for tonight.
Yesterday I basically locked myself in my room and studied for a very long time. I tried so hard to work on reading, and I practiced saying my name is and your profession is and your last name is and so forth. I still get confused with the four k's-- soft k, hard k, soft rolled k, hard rolled k. That last one is the hardest of all. There's no English equivalent (or Spanish equivalent, for that matter.) But we have an advantage over the Georgians, too. The name “Faith” has three sounds they can't say, I guess. So cool. Lauren was feeling particularly mischievous today in school, so during our activity where we had to make up a lady's name and tell it to someone else, guess what she picked? Heh heh.
Today really was awesome. We were crazy and joking around nonstop. During lunch at Kyle's place (where we were served a wonderful feast of khinkali (meat in pastry pouches), lamb, khatchapuri, puri, kitri da pomidori, an awesome dessert that I have no idea what it was but was cut in diamonds and arranged on the plate like a big star, and like a zillion other things. They really went all out for us. But what stole the show was the Kompote. It's a type of juice made from boiled fruit (sometimes strawberries, sometimes apples, grapes, whatever). It kind of tasted like Kool-Aid. So Lauren declared that its flavor was Purplesaurus Rex. Ana, cveni LCF (our LCF) had no idea what Kool-Aid is. If you can imagine how awesome it is explaining the useless flavor names and the extravagantly silly color changing powder (of a flavor that has nothing to do with the color of the prepared liquid), the mystery flavors that you never really know what they are, and the Kool-Aid man himself to someone who's never heard of it, then you may have a slight idea of how much fun we had at lunch.
And we're all bonding really well. In our village name (there are two villages, one with the name “small” and the other “big”) instead of Patara (small [but bigger than the “big” village population-wise.. explain that one to me.]), we're gonna take to calling ourselves Better-a. Yeah, we're pretty much the coolest. We have the most gracious people, the coolest houses, the awesomest kids in all of Sakartvelo. Oh yeah.
So, quickly about Ana and my weird night last night and running this morning, and then I'm gonna go get nakh' ini chemi datan (ice cream with my sister) maghazishi (at the store). Oh yeah!
Ana, our LCF, is no doubt the best. She has really pretty black, bushy hair that last week she let free but this week has tamed, which is quite sad. We told her so today. She's got a BA in English and an MA in Linguistics and is from the west side of Sakartvelo. And she's incredibly nice and helpful, as much as any Kartveli I've met (except maybe chemi ojakh'i [my fam]). And she's only 22.
Last night, after locking myself in my room all day and studying, I texted one of the guys, and he called me back and we chatted for a while about significant others and Georgian wine. It was rather interesting.
And this morning I ran Laurendan da mati dzadan (with Lauren and her brother). He's maybe five or so and barely spoke two words to me. I think he said gamarjobot (hello) but that's about it. Hopefully we'll do this every morning. Or maybe yoga some mornings, like I did yesterday.
Allright, to the nakh'ini! Woot woot! Until next time! Bollomde!
26 June, 2009
Friday
Well, I didn't get nakh'ini that day, but I got it yesterday afternoon at school break with Lauren. It was delicious, naturally.
And last night I tried a little bit of homemade whiskey/coffee liqueur that my host mom made. It was delish, too! Also, my bebia made a type of caramel sauce with grape juice and flour. I don't remember what it was called, but you eat it with walnuts. I liked it a lot. I tried to help crack the walnuts, but the first one I did spilled all over the floor, so we laughed at my incompetence and then I just helped separate the shells from the nuts. I think my host mom thinks I'm rather incompetent.... it's just the language barrier, I swear!
And I tried the cherries, alubali. AND I washed my laundry yesterday. It went rather well. Hooray!
Um, we had hub day today in Sagarejo. I'm hopefully going to get to post today, but the net is SLOOOOOOOOW! So maybe not.
Okay, I think I will have time.
I'm a bit distracted by the slow internet and can't think of anything else to include right now, so I'll just leave you with an “until next time!”
Hope you're all doing well. I have my good moments and bad moments, but I think it's going to be kargi.
Love!
Oh... things I may want/need:
cocoa
anti-demon medal
notebooks? The ones here are kinda weird.
Carefree, Stayfree, and OB. Eventually.
Crest Pro-health, eventually. My toothpaste decided to explode on the plane to Philly.
If I think of anything else, I'll letcha know. Thanks! <3
Sunday
I have now been at my host family's house for one night. I'll tell you all about them as I get to know them better. But here are a few first impressions.
They seem very well off. Although there's no running water (I'm not sure if it's broken or if they just don't have it hooked up or what; there is a tap and showerhead in the abazana (bathing room)... yeah, although there's no running water, guess what's in a room right next to the abazana and not 30 meters away from the house? That's right, a TualeTi. I have a commode! Awesome sauce! Too bad I won't be here in the winter; that would be wonderful!
Other than the facilities, the rest of the house seems very nice (dzhalian kargia [it's very good]). I'm not too sure about taking pictures quite yet; maybe when my qartveli is better, I will feel more comfortable asking. I want you to see this house, though-- it's HUGE! My room's almost as big as my room back in Iowa! And the whole place just looks kinda ritzy; they have nice heirlooms and whatnot for decoration. The house is very aged-looking and the doors don't shut easily, but it is super nice. My room doesn't have a lock, like Peace Corps promised. But I'm not worried about the security issue with the family. I trust them. And they reassured me that there was always someone at home, and when we all take a trip, the gate will be locked.
It's a good thing the house is big ) One thing, though-- there are two young girls (ori gogobuia [?]) who speak English. The older one, who either just finished or will be in ninth grade, Tatia (TAH-tee-ah), is VERY adept at speaking English. She's probably as good or better than some of our LCFs (Language-Cross Cultural Facilitators). Seriously, she's amazing. She wants to become an English teacher. I hope she thinks about working with Peace Corps. I'll fosho drop the idea to her later. The younger girl, Khatia (phlegm-tee-ah), can definitely hold her own as well. She'll probably become just as good. They're both very patient and helpful, repeating things for me a zillion times that I've already heard twelve times earlier in the same day.
Last night Tatia told me that my accent was lovely. I laughed and then wished her goodnight in the regional way (which she told me probably four times and I repeated back to her, but can't remember it for the life of me).
Clare, you might take a liking to Khatia. She LOVES Sponji (aka SpongeBob). She apparently has a shirt and a hair thing and other Sponji memorabilia, although I've only seen the shirt. I woke up shvid saatze (at seven) to go for a run in the village with Tatia, but then she didn't want to go. She warned me that she likes to go to bed late and get up late and might not want to go. She said something about there being police out so that I should just run on the balcony. So Khatia ran with me on the balcony.
Khatia tired herself out quickly (I think she just liked the novelty of running with me and asking me my favorite Amerikeli Xili/khili [American fruit (no English equivalent for that first phoneme)]), so I ran for a while longer alone, all the while counting from one (erti) to ten (arti) so that I get better at it. During orientation, when we were staying at the hotel, the first night after the language lesson I was feeling particularly freaked out. Shawn, one of the volunteers, saw me silently stewing and studying and drilled me on the numbers until I could finally say them. That was really cool of him. He also randomly called me today and we compared living situations. He can speak Russian with his host dad, but I've got Tatia da Khatia, and I also have an in-house TualeTi, wheras he does not. Bad luck! And, Mary, I already told you—he was the Catholic guy who's skeptical of the anti-demon medallion you gave me. And said you should get me a female saint one instead of Benedict or Boniface (I don't remember which it was).
Speaking of religion, Georgians are very interested in what religion you are. It was one of the first questions Tatia asked me yesterday. I embarassedly had to say “me ar religiosi var.” but “chemi ojaki qristiani aris” (I am not religious but my family is Christian). I could tell she thought I was a weirdo as she pointed out the family biblia and explained to me that in Georgia, children are the same religion as their parents.
After eating dinner Georgian style on the balcony-- well, I guess you probably want to hear about that. The food. sachmeli. The place setting is just like we're used to; tepshi, changali, dana, da khelsakhotsi) plate, fork, knife, napkin (small and always folded into a triangle). The Georgians must not really like mixing their food that much. You help yourself from each serving plate, and when your plate is dirty, they offer you a new one. The waiters at the hotel did this, and Tatia did that to me at sauzme (sow's-may [breakfast]) this morning. (which I remember by “saucing me” which, in my mind, can kind of connect to eating and/or food. Hey, whatever works, right?) And the food is GOOD. The Puri (bread) is DELISH-- (gemruelia [the food's worth a gem... works for me!]). KhatchaPuri (like a quesadilla on a pita) is om nom nom, as is lobiani, a bean-pita sandwich. Salata of pomidori da kitri (tomatoes and cucumbers with parsley[?]) is good, too. There's often jonjoli, pickled capers, which is served with pickles and what looks like the peppers that come in pizza boxes. And there's the pâté like stuff that's made of spinach or new beans aka green beans or... plum? eggplant? beet? Something purple, I forget. I think it's beets. Whatever it was, I liked it. That's sometimes got walnuts in it and such. The soco (mushrooms) are fan-freaking-tabulous. There's also a few meat dishes—cold chicken, some beef, pork with onions, and sausage-y things. I haven't really tried them because I've come out of the vegetarianeli closet finally. It's great now because it's during fasting time (I think?) when Christian Georgians don't eat much if any meat. The kh'veli (cheese) at the hotel near Tbilisi was a bit too salty for my taste, but the cheese that my host family (chemi masp'indzeli ojakhi) has is very good.
Speaking of cheese, I grated cheese and made spag'eti today! masp'indzeli dedachemi (my host mom) is about the most patient and gracious woman in the world. I can't really even understand most simple things like “help” “day” “now” and so forth, and even though I say them over and over again, I still forget things like “me mvars” (I love...) “me mqavs, ra gqvia” (I have, you have) and so on. I'm still struggling to remember the pronouns! And it takes me ten minutes before I can say “kargia” (good), “ar vitsi” (I don't know), and “ver gavige (gah-vee-gay—I didn't understand)” And I've said those things half a squintillion times already! But my host mom was patient even though I understand her as if she were talking to a brick wall. Since the translators were out with their friends, we passed around my lexiconi until she figured out I wanted to help her with lunchi, and then she trusted me in her kitchen, sort of! It was awesome. I'm so thankful that the Georgians I've met thus far are nothing but kind. (My host mom and dad, who I ate with, even said the spag'eti was gemruelia!) So it's awkward, but good.
I'm so overwhelmed with this language thing, though. I want to learn it so badly, but I don't even know how to go about doing it anymore, and I'm jetlagged and eating weird food and not able to drink tap water for three months because I might get hepatitis and I haven't been able to get good sleep the past three nights even with the aid of Benadryl (which is thankfully provided in our med kits). I hope my body starts to adjust and my brain starts to adjust. The language is the key to everything! If I don't learn it, I won't be able to communicate well without the aid of a translator (evidenced by lunchi today) and I will be in more danger, as I won't be able to understand the kids in the marshutkas (public mini-vans that run between villages).
22 June 2009
Monday
My suspicions about my family's wealth continues to grow. Today, after the first school session (four hours of language with two fifteen minute breaks), we had lunch (lunchi) at our house. Chemi megobreri were very impressed. The size of the house, the lamazia (lovely) hand-painted walls and ceilings, and the t'ualet'i all impressed them very much. The t'ualet'i impressed them most of all; after the TEFL meeting Sagaregoshi (in Sagarejo), we came back to our village and were going to walk around, but first everyone wanted to come back to my house to use the toilet.
23 June 2009
Tuesday
Yeah... last night was interesting. But the rest of yesterday Pirueli (first). (And when is my life NOT interesting?)
So, they all used the toilet here because it's better than what they have, apparently. And then we walked down past the crossroad to where Lauren's street comes to the main road, then I walked back. Oh, and Kyle walked Kaitlin home. But they got lost, and Kyle's host family called Tengo (the program director... basically the go-to guy when stuff goes wrong. Other than our resident LCF, Ana, of course. She's awesome. More on her later.)
So that went down. There was another minor crisis over the weekend. One of the guys from the neighboring village was trying to go to sleep, but the dogs were barking loudly, so he couldn't. He brought some Rite-Aid gel ear plugs, so he used them. Problem solved, right? Wrong. Not only did he not hear his alarm the next morning, but when he tried to pull out the plugs, the right one broke in half. He kept trying to get more pieces out; he only succeeded in getting small chunks and pushing the remaining chunk (though getting smaller and smaller) farther into his ear. So he called the Med staff and was sent to Tblisi. The first doctor refused to do anything about it; apparently she didn't want to touch him because he was American. So he sat in Tblisi while the head PC med lady tried to arrange things and talked about calling Washington. Tom, the mokhalise (volunteer) was nearly in tears because he thought he was going to get ET (early termination). He stayed overnight at a hotel in Tblisi, and the next day they head PC med lady took him to a Europe-wide famous specialist. The guy laughed at him. He couldn't believe the other doctor wouldn't have done such a simple operation. So the doc took some kind of ear-keeping-open mechanism, stuck it on the volunteer, and got the earplug out in five minutes. How crazy is that? The volunteer is now doing well and back, good as new.
Today skolishi (in school) we worked on survival phrases (sad aris t'ualet'i? sad aris chemi ojakhi?) Although I think if we don't know where the toilet and our rooms are by now, we'd be in big trouble. But there are some useful phrases I still need to study-- ukatscravahrgh (sorry) da tavi mt'kiva, da mutseli mt'kivai (and my head hurts, and my stomach hurts). But that's for tonight.
Yesterday I basically locked myself in my room and studied for a very long time. I tried so hard to work on reading, and I practiced saying my name is and your profession is and your last name is and so forth. I still get confused with the four k's-- soft k, hard k, soft rolled k, hard rolled k. That last one is the hardest of all. There's no English equivalent (or Spanish equivalent, for that matter.) But we have an advantage over the Georgians, too. The name “Faith” has three sounds they can't say, I guess. So cool. Lauren was feeling particularly mischievous today in school, so during our activity where we had to make up a lady's name and tell it to someone else, guess what she picked? Heh heh.
Today really was awesome. We were crazy and joking around nonstop. During lunch at Kyle's place (where we were served a wonderful feast of khinkali (meat in pastry pouches), lamb, khatchapuri, puri, kitri da pomidori, an awesome dessert that I have no idea what it was but was cut in diamonds and arranged on the plate like a big star, and like a zillion other things. They really went all out for us. But what stole the show was the Kompote. It's a type of juice made from boiled fruit (sometimes strawberries, sometimes apples, grapes, whatever). It kind of tasted like Kool-Aid. So Lauren declared that its flavor was Purplesaurus Rex. Ana, cveni LCF (our LCF) had no idea what Kool-Aid is. If you can imagine how awesome it is explaining the useless flavor names and the extravagantly silly color changing powder (of a flavor that has nothing to do with the color of the prepared liquid), the mystery flavors that you never really know what they are, and the Kool-Aid man himself to someone who's never heard of it, then you may have a slight idea of how much fun we had at lunch.
And we're all bonding really well. In our village name (there are two villages, one with the name “small” and the other “big”) instead of Patara (small [but bigger than the “big” village population-wise.. explain that one to me.]), we're gonna take to calling ourselves Better-a. Yeah, we're pretty much the coolest. We have the most gracious people, the coolest houses, the awesomest kids in all of Sakartvelo. Oh yeah.
So, quickly about Ana and my weird night last night and running this morning, and then I'm gonna go get nakh' ini chemi datan (ice cream with my sister) maghazishi (at the store). Oh yeah!
Ana, our LCF, is no doubt the best. She has really pretty black, bushy hair that last week she let free but this week has tamed, which is quite sad. We told her so today. She's got a BA in English and an MA in Linguistics and is from the west side of Sakartvelo. And she's incredibly nice and helpful, as much as any Kartveli I've met (except maybe chemi ojakh'i [my fam]). And she's only 22.
Last night, after locking myself in my room all day and studying, I texted one of the guys, and he called me back and we chatted for a while about significant others and Georgian wine. It was rather interesting.
And this morning I ran Laurendan da mati dzadan (with Lauren and her brother). He's maybe five or so and barely spoke two words to me. I think he said gamarjobot (hello) but that's about it. Hopefully we'll do this every morning. Or maybe yoga some mornings, like I did yesterday.
Allright, to the nakh'ini! Woot woot! Until next time! Bollomde!
26 June, 2009
Friday
Well, I didn't get nakh'ini that day, but I got it yesterday afternoon at school break with Lauren. It was delicious, naturally.
And last night I tried a little bit of homemade whiskey/coffee liqueur that my host mom made. It was delish, too! Also, my bebia made a type of caramel sauce with grape juice and flour. I don't remember what it was called, but you eat it with walnuts. I liked it a lot. I tried to help crack the walnuts, but the first one I did spilled all over the floor, so we laughed at my incompetence and then I just helped separate the shells from the nuts. I think my host mom thinks I'm rather incompetent.... it's just the language barrier, I swear!
And I tried the cherries, alubali. AND I washed my laundry yesterday. It went rather well. Hooray!
Um, we had hub day today in Sagarejo. I'm hopefully going to get to post today, but the net is SLOOOOOOOOW! So maybe not.
Okay, I think I will have time.
I'm a bit distracted by the slow internet and can't think of anything else to include right now, so I'll just leave you with an “until next time!”
Hope you're all doing well. I have my good moments and bad moments, but I think it's going to be kargi.
Love!
Oh... things I may want/need:
cocoa
anti-demon medal
notebooks? The ones here are kinda weird.
Carefree, Stayfree, and OB. Eventually.
Crest Pro-health, eventually. My toothpaste decided to explode on the plane to Philly.
If I think of anything else, I'll letcha know. Thanks! <3
Wednesday, June 17
Overseas!
Here's my first update from my next adventure, brought to you by the free wifi in the Istanbul airport. All the US airports charge a fee, which is a bunch of baloney and why I haven't updated until now. I briefly got a slow connection at staging Monday night, but it was only for "one day" which is not 24 hours, but merely until midnight. Thus, I didn't get everything done that I would have liked to get done.
I am simultaneously excited out of my mind and nervous out of my mind, so the two clash and explode within me, resulting in a sort of low-burning flame of indifference. Thus far, the people I'm meeting are wonderful people. I am quickly realizing how incompetent I am... everyone else has so much more travel experience, knows languages, is prepared for grad school, etc. etc. But conversations are more than pleasant, and even though I'm horribly socially awkward, or at least nominally socially awkward, I'm getting along well enough.
Hearing more about Georgia at staging, especially from the returning volunteers, helps a LOT with the nervousness. I'm a bit worried about the food--namely, that I'll gain 50 pounds from all the potatoes and hachapuri! Yikes! And I'm worried about getting sick, because most people apparently do so. And "getting sick" does not include a cushy bathroom in which to throw up, but rather an outhouse. But I'll make do. After all, this is how some people live. They're not "sacrificing" anything, and they don't have the option to leave and have different conditions. Hopefully I can keep that in mind.
I've already posted my phone number on facebook. If you need it, I'll post it on a friends-only post. It doesn't cost me to receive calls or texts, and texts are rather cheap for me to send. So that seems like a great way to keep in touch, as I don't know how often I'll be able to get online. Maybe I can set up Twitter and update that via cell phone? I dunno. We'll see.
So, a little more on what I'm doing:
I'm at a layover in Istanbul right now, waiting to go to Tbilisi. We're going to be in a hotel for a couple days, and then I think we're going to go on some village visits? I'm not quite sure, but I'll figure it out more as we get there and get paper itineraries and whatnot. PST doesn't sound like it'll be as bad as I thought it would; we'll get into groups and stay in villages around the central training village. These small groups will go to language and training lessons together--I'm very excited to see who's going to be in the same group as me. (as I?)
I'll have to register my blog when we get to Georgia and talk with the people there and start to settle in. Just so you know, this is my personal opinion blog and does not necessarily reflect that of Peace Corps. But hopefully it's not to out in left field, unless it's in a good way.
Okay, I'm running low on battery power because my laptop only lives but a few minutes when on wifi. I'm going to post my phone number in friends only, then head out. Later!
I am simultaneously excited out of my mind and nervous out of my mind, so the two clash and explode within me, resulting in a sort of low-burning flame of indifference. Thus far, the people I'm meeting are wonderful people. I am quickly realizing how incompetent I am... everyone else has so much more travel experience, knows languages, is prepared for grad school, etc. etc. But conversations are more than pleasant, and even though I'm horribly socially awkward, or at least nominally socially awkward, I'm getting along well enough.
Hearing more about Georgia at staging, especially from the returning volunteers, helps a LOT with the nervousness. I'm a bit worried about the food--namely, that I'll gain 50 pounds from all the potatoes and hachapuri! Yikes! And I'm worried about getting sick, because most people apparently do so. And "getting sick" does not include a cushy bathroom in which to throw up, but rather an outhouse. But I'll make do. After all, this is how some people live. They're not "sacrificing" anything, and they don't have the option to leave and have different conditions. Hopefully I can keep that in mind.
I've already posted my phone number on facebook. If you need it, I'll post it on a friends-only post. It doesn't cost me to receive calls or texts, and texts are rather cheap for me to send. So that seems like a great way to keep in touch, as I don't know how often I'll be able to get online. Maybe I can set up Twitter and update that via cell phone? I dunno. We'll see.
So, a little more on what I'm doing:
I'm at a layover in Istanbul right now, waiting to go to Tbilisi. We're going to be in a hotel for a couple days, and then I think we're going to go on some village visits? I'm not quite sure, but I'll figure it out more as we get there and get paper itineraries and whatnot. PST doesn't sound like it'll be as bad as I thought it would; we'll get into groups and stay in villages around the central training village. These small groups will go to language and training lessons together--I'm very excited to see who's going to be in the same group as me. (as I?)
I'll have to register my blog when we get to Georgia and talk with the people there and start to settle in. Just so you know, this is my personal opinion blog and does not necessarily reflect that of Peace Corps. But hopefully it's not to out in left field, unless it's in a good way.
Okay, I'm running low on battery power because my laptop only lives but a few minutes when on wifi. I'm going to post my phone number in friends only, then head out. Later!
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