Let’s Talk Vagina

Since a very young age, perhaps even the day I was born, I have been the proud owner of a vagina.   Being a generation Y-er from a fairly progressive country regarding gender, I was never taught that my vagina was something to be ashamed of, and my perspective on the gender oppression that still exist in much of the world was pretty much non-existent despite hearing rumors of it.  However, after spending the last 5 months living in The Republic of Georgia with it’s antediluvian gender ideologies, I now have the upmost respect for the women and men who were brave enough to start trying to make a change, and those women and men who continue that worki today. 

 So, if you haven’t guessed already, today’s blog is dedicated to the burden of being an owner of a vagina in the Republic of Georgia.  To all those other TLGVs or perspective TLGVs out there, by now you probably know that gender relation in Georgia is a touchy, ‘don’t go there’ subject that is constantly being swept under the rug , even by the TLG program itself.  However, in the event that you are not aware and actually care to know, you’re in luck because I’m not writing for an official blog, and am therefore free to say what I damn well please.

First let me start off by saying that while I have been in Georgia I have come to love so many things about this culture and its people.  This is why it really does pain me to feel the need to acknowledge something so fucked-up about it.  Now, I’m the first to admit that I’m a feminist, even by American standards.  I’m not a hair-on-fire, bra-burning, un-realistic ‘women are no different than men’ feminist.  But rather an objective, strong, educated, independent woman who believes that men and women are blessed with the same intellectual and emotional capabilities, and therefore should be regarded as the same in the eyes of the law and societal expectations.  I have struggled from my first day here to keep reminding myself that I’m in a different culture and that I should accept what it is and move forward.  But in that lies the problem, forward motion, of which there is none (that I’ve witnessed) in regards to recognizing penises and vaginas do not determine the worth of a human being.  

Now, I could sit here and list example after example that I’ve witnessed or personally experienced of how women are constantly ‘put in their place’ by their men, but I feel that would be unfair and doesn’t really begin to examine why “it is what it is”.  During my initial adjustment period, it was easy for me to sit back and think in my hoity-toighty, high-pitched, grating feminist mental voice “I don’t like how my host father demands that he be the first to take a shower even if it’s 3 hours after someone else needs one, and then proceeds to exhaust the limited ‘hot’ water supply with a 30 minute shower” or “ my friends host-dad is an angry unemployed asshole who sleeps on the couch all day while his wife works two jobs, cooks and cleans, all while pretty much being a single parent to her two children” or “its infuriating that a  father would agree to marry his daughter off to a man who kidnapped her, held her hostage and raped her, so that she would be forced to marry him because without her virginity she is no longer desirable.”   But after remaining in the country for nearly 5 months, I’ve begun to perceive some of the underlying reasoning behind why my host father believes it’s ok to leave the other 6 members in the house with cold showers, or why my friend’s host father finds that he’s entitled to be a complete waste of space, and why a man would hold what others think above the personal well being and happiness of his daughter.

After a day at my host cousin’s house, and witnessing the disparate treatment of a set of 3 year old twins, one of which was a girl the other a boy, by their mother and other women in the family, to my horrific surprise I began to realize that what seems to be one of the leading causes of the double standard are the women themselves.   Sure, we know the argument, “you are a product of your up-bringing”.  You know, like, how it was ‘ok’ for our grandparents to call a black person a nigger (*see note below) till the day they died because that’s the time they were raised in.  Or in this case, it’s ‘ok’ to raise a daughter to be subservient, and a son to believe he should have a general lack of respect for others in relation to himself, because that was the standard to which they were raised.  But I think that’s bullshit, I happen to believe that it’s a choice to maintain personal prejudice, whether it be gender, racial, or any other form, especially when you see the world around you advancing towards equality.  With that being said, I fault the women just as much as I fault the men in this country for not taking charge and adjusting the manner in which they raise their children as to produce a generation that doesn’t accept viewing ones sex as a formative factor of societal significance.  Among the most irksome points for me have been the conversations in which I’ve participated where the women complain about how their husbands treat them badly, and how they know the gender roles in Georgia need to change.   Yet, all these conversations are whispered in the kitchen to their daughters after they have fluffed their husband’s and son’s pillows so they can nap to poorly dubbed Telemundo soap operas.  I’m not stating that this would be an easy change for them to make, and perhaps its pompous of me to come in here and suggest that they should when I was raised under entirely different circumstances, but I feel at some point we’ve all being in a situation in which we’ve had to say “enough” and demand better treatment.  I only hope that the women here wake up one day and decided that they ARE worth the same as their male counterparts, and that more and more of them resolve to meet the struggles that face them head on.

With all that said, I don’t want you to think that I don’t lay just as much blame to the men.  The same goes with my previous analogy, I refuse to believe for a second that most of these men do not realize that in current times, the ‘patriarchal’ ways in which they were raised, and currently operate in, are inequitable.   I’m the first to admit though, that it’s harder for me to pin point the male mentality as I haven’t had conversations regarding gender roles with them as I have with the women.   However, based on my observations and general understanding of human nature (sorry boys), I have to believe that the majority of these men know they are exploiting the women, but have decided that they have the better end of the deal and choose to do nothing. 

I also want it understood that, I’m not talking about going against traditional gender roles just for rebellious sake.  For instance, my host mother chose to be, and is very happy with being a ‘house-wife’ while her husband works the ‘farm’.  Though, I doubt he would ‘allow’ her to choose to do anything else if she did decide to do so, but that is a related yet separate issue. The point is, I don’t fault them one bit for choosing those roles for themselves, it works for them and they are both happy.  I only find concern when roles are forced upon one party or the other, and the idea that it’s reasonable to expect a certain role because of gender.

**Warning – do not read on if you are grossed out by the thought of my vagina — Sorry Dad**

Now it’s on to the treatment of the actual vagina, and not just the roles that are associated with having one.   From day one I began to notice the general lack of respect for and the overwhelming negative mentality towards the vagina itself.  According to Georgians, the vagina is something that is dirty by nature and needs to be douched on a regular basis.   Young girls are taught that their vaginas are to never to be spoken of or else others will get the idea that they are not pure, yet it is perfectly acceptable for the fathers to take their 14 year old sons to prostitutes. Female health conditions are often ignored because, once again, you certainly do not want your name to go to mud. Another sad realization of mine came during an unfortunate encounter with a Georgian gynecologist.  This realization was that even their vagina ‘Professionals’ perpetuate these ideologies and fail to educate women on proper health care in order to make sure that these women aren’t viewed as undesirable to men.  Any health care professional should know that douching is pretty much the worst thing you can do for a vagina yet they administer them regularly during examinations.  I know this because I was a victim of two separate douches (before I could object and am still furious about) during my examination, one with hydrogen peroxide the other with iodine (harsh much?).  I was diagnosed with a simple yeast infection, yet was prescribed the full on treatment for both syphilis and gonorrhea without being asked if I had even been previously tested or sexually active.  For the record, the only way I would have contracted either of those diseases is if it were from a toilet seat (pretty much impossible), but come to think about it, they don’t even have toilet seats in Georgia, so yep, no chance of that!  When I asked about all the medication, I was told that it is standard procedure to prescribe these medications because women with infections are assumed to be sexually active.  And of course because the vagina is so dirty and off limits, when a women does choose to become sexually active she wouldn’t have a clue about safe sex methods and would be more likely to contract STDs or become pregnant.  Pregnancy in itself is an interesting subject in itself, as Georgia is a strict Orthodox Christian country, yet abortion is viewed as an acceptable form of birth control. 

Among some of the other completely false information that is passed down from generation to generation that is believed to be fact as opposed to a superstition are the following.  “If a woman does not wear stockings, she will become sterile”,  “If a woman sits on the floor/ground, her ovaries will “freeze” and she will become sterile”,  “If a woman does not wear house-shoes, she will become sterile.” Perhaps you are sensing a pattern here?  Even within the wives-tales it is apparent that a woman’s worth lies within her ability to produce children. 

Well, I think that will do for my vagina rant.  I realize that I’ll probably come off as one of those hair-on-fire feminists after this and if so, so be it. I don’t deny that education of society on the truths of the vagina and all of its wonders isn’t a something I’m passionate about, and why should I be? 

 

* Don’t get pissed off I used the word folks, I do not condone the use of it, but if I would have said “the ‘N’ word” you’re brain would have gone strait to the word anyhow.

Hello Again!

Howdy folks! First let me apologize for my abysmal follow through on blogging. I’ll go ahead and skip the excuses and chalk it up to just not really being in the writing mood the last few weeks. Well that and believe it or not, living in a village with a population of 1000 of which 2 speak English (I would be one of those) with no access to reliable internet, or TV that I can understand, doesn’t exactly provide constant blog worthy material. However, you’re in luck now as I actually feel like I have some decent material to entertain y’all for brief moment.

I believe I left you guys at my decision paralysis about a month or so ago, so I’ll up date you on that first. Initially I decided to AuPair for a family in the South of France, but as fate (also known as the French Embassy) would have it, it’s pretty much impossible to get a work visa while living in Georgia. So after a few back and forth on how to move forward, I decided to stick with my original plan and stay in Georgia and teach for the remainder of the year. I’m just going to go ahead and believe that this will work out best in the long run as it will give me a year worth of teaching experience in a developing country. I have also decided that instead of using my vacation time and free flights to head home for my summer vaca, I’m going to hop around Europe for a few months. With that said, if any of you fine folks have plans to be in Europe over the summer let me know and perhaps we can coordinate ) Also, if you know anyone who wouldn’t mind having a couch surfer, let me know about that too! As of now, I only see one downside to my decisions and that is the fact that I won’t be seeing my family and friends for awhile, which is a bummer, and will make it the longest I’ve ever been without seeing my loved ones. (

And now for the entertainment portion of my show, new stories!!
Do you ever have those moments when you pull a Zack Morris and put a time out on a certain moment so you can look at it and appreciate where you life has taken you? I certainly have, and I can say that the last year and 5 months ( 1 year of hashing and 5 months in Georgia) have provided more of those moments than my previous 26 years combined. Such moments in the last four months have included showing a Turkish guy how to do a traditional Georgian dance in his living room at 3 in the morning, eating cow brain in Armenia, eating sheep colon in Istanbul (delicious btw), taking shots of chacha (Georgian grape moonshine) in a smelly minibus immobilized by a flock of sheep on a deserted mountain road with friends and Georgian teenagers who are playing their instruments while serenading us, and various instances of drunken teenage Supra (a big feast) nights. And just think, I could be sitting in a government basement cube farm instead ;o).

David Geraja

The last weekend of March was the first lovely weekend of the year so a few other TLG Volunteers and myself decided that we would take advantage and visit one of the country’s abundant monasteries. We chose David Geraja which is a monastery that was carved out of rock-face in the middle of the dessert where Georgia meets Azerbaijan. On the back-side of the rock-face, which you can access by hiking up and around the mountain, there was a cave city with multiple “temples” and carved out living quarters. I’ve never had the pleasure of being in a real desert scene and I was quite amazed by how beautiful it was in its own way. Granted we were there before it was warm enough for the vipers to make an appearance. I’m sure my idea of it would have changed if I were constantly worried about being bitten by a poisonous snake. We spent the better half of 3 hours hiking/exploring, then decided to have a little picnic on the side of mountain, which was thoroughly enjoyable not only because I was famished by then, but because it was the first time I had been hiking with native English speaker friends in quite a long time! I think it afforded me a moment of normalcy for which I was very grateful. Overall, this day was one of my favorites while I’ve been in Georgia, and if you’re ever here do make an effort to make it out to David Gareja!

Istanbul

You know how sometimes you want to see a movie really bad because people have built it up with awesome reviews then you see it and you’re left wanting? This is kind of how Istanbul was for me. Multiple friends have raved about Istanbul so naturally I was expecting it to be one of my favorites too, but really I was underwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong, I thought it was a cool city but it lacked some kind of pizazz for me, yet I can’t quite put my finger on what that something was. My best guess is just the shear amount of people there as well as the smog. I mean, I am a city girl and am the first to admit I enjoy the amenities that a larger metropolitan area offers but 20 million people in one area exceeds my comfort limits. With that being said, I did enjoy Istanbul and would go back again if given the chance. There were a few things I can say I truly did enjoy and one was the food. Now perhaps I enjoyed Turkish food so much because for 4 months previous to consuming it I had been living off of fried carbohydrates. I gorged myself on meat while there, and I will recommend now if you’re ever there that you try the mideye (steam muscles w/ seasoned rice), and the kocorech (spicy sheep colon). Both were amazing! I also liked the fact that it was the first Muslim country I have visited, and that 5 times a day all the mosques (which are abundant) blared their prayers over loud speakers, sometimes that was the only reminder that I wasn’t in Florida. And perhaps that last statement is another reason I wasn’t wild about Istanbul, because I expected it to be much more different than America, but for the most part it was very westernized. With that said, it seems that my ever so slight disappointment with Istanbul stemmed from my expectations, rather than from the city itself.

Welp, that’s what I have for today. More to come soon, I promise this time!

Armenia and Decision Paralysis

Normally I would cover these two topics in separate post, but due to lack of internet access and/or me forgetting, I’ve not been updating this blog as often as I should/want to so I’ll just do a big brain dump today.  So first I’ll start off with my recent weekend trip to Armenia, then jump right into my current state of mind.

Armenia

This last weekend schools had a holiday off for International Women’s day,  horary for days I get to celebrate my vagina and ovaries. ANYWHO, so yea a couple of my other TLG friends and I decided to take the opportunity to visit our neighbors capital to the south, Yerevan Armenia.  Getting there took a 5 hour Marshutka (mini-bus) ride from Tbilisi , which normally wouldn’t be too bad but  considering the road conditions,  driver aggression, lack of space, and a full bladder seem to have taken an eternity to me.  We ended up staying at the Envoy Hostel in downtown Yerevan for 15 US a night, which may I say is by FAR the best hostel I have ever stayed in.  Also, it was a much needed reprise for me as I showered ever day (sometimes even twice), got to sleep on a supportive mattress with only 1 blanket, and I can’t forget to mention WI-FI!! Talk about luxury!  I also came to the realization being out of my normal environment that because all my clothes are dried stove side in Georgia, despite being clean I always end up smelling like a spit roasted pig.  Which if it’s true that the way to a man’s heart is his stomach, could actually work out for me.   Ok, back to Armenia.  The first night we ended up heading to a Mexican restaurant called Cactus, which no lie was one of the better Mexican joints I’ve ever been to, of course it didn’t hurt that when they saw 4 North American chicks in their place they brought us a round of cocktails on the house.  Which started a trend of things being given to us while in Armenia.  The next day we did the normal touristy things, we took the free 2 ½ hour walking tour of Yereven that is offered by the hostel,  then spent the rest of the day wondering around the city seeing the sites.  The only two unfortunate things were one that it was a cloudy day meaning we couldn’t see the amazing views of Mt. Ararat the second being that the brandy brewery was closed due to Women’s day.   It’s also worth mentioning that lunch was a special occasion as it turns out for all of us.  We stopped at this basement restaurant called “Our Village” with a very eclectic menu, that included various traditional Armenian food to include calf brains.  I was the first to crack a joke about “ewwwww brains”….but then I got to thinking….”hmmmmm brains, why the hell not, when inArmeniaright?”  So yes, I ordered a brain omelet, which surprisingly didn’t really taste like anything but eggs.  Honestly, the funniest part was that the other 3 women with me ended up trying what I didn’t eat, despite two of them being vegetarians.   That night we actually decided to cook at the hostel since none of us are really allowed in the kitchen at our host house without being constantly corrected.  So it was nice being able to cook for ourselves for a change.  The next day I parted with the group and ended up taking a guided 11 hour tour through the hostel, which took us to some of the famous churches/temples/cemeteries in Armenia,  I also got to meet the Armenian Pope, so that was pretty neato.  I’m really glad I ended up taking the tour because I met a few great people and had in depth conversations, which is huge since I don’t really get to speak English anymore.  I ended up with some good pictures, they are on my facebook if anyone wants to take a look.  That evening the other girls went out to a house party of a friend of a friend, but I was feeling exhausted and had a headache which turned out to be a fever, so I’m glad I didn’t ended up going.  It also afforded me the chance to get to know some of the other characters at the hostel that weekend.  Sunday was our travel back to Georgia day, which had a few interesting happenings as well.  We had grabbed our mini-bus back and were waiting for it to leave when a gentleman in his late 40’s got on the bus, he was there for about 5 min then got off and returned 5 min later with a Coke and a candy bar for each of us and a big bottle of fancy Armenian Brandy.  We were just floored and nick named him “Armenian Santa Claus” who ended up helping us multiple times throughout the trip back to communicate and find the right transportation routes to our final destinations once in Tbilisi.  Needless to say everyone in Armenia was very hospitable!   So after we ate our candy bars, drank our cokes and had a few shots of Brandy we hit the road back to Tbilisi.  All was going well for about 20 min when we were pulled over by the police, which was completely baffling, seeing that traffic laws are merely a suggestion in this part of the world even for police, I really just can’t figure out why we were pulled over.  So there we were, a min-bus full of people sitting on the shoulder of an Armenian highway, when one of us looks around and notices that the cop car was gone, and so apparently was our driver.  Yep, the cops shanghaied our driver while we sat there just wondering.  Luckily, the cops brought our driver back about 20 min later and we continued on our way to Georgia.  The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful.  I will say that it was pretty nice when I got home my host sisters ran up to me gave me a big hug/kiss and told me they missed me, and it took me by surprise when I could honestly say I missed them too )

 

Decision Paralysis.

So this is the part of the post where I cover my current state of mind of where I am in life and where I want to go.  Most of you already know that I view my being laid off as one of the best things to ever to have happened to me because it took a very hard decision of living a dream or being financially ‘responsible’ out of my hands.  Not that surprisingly I’m happier making $300 bucks a month than I ever was when I was more financially secure.  But beyond that, the decision to move and teach in Georgia has also opened my eyes to the fact that I literally have the world at my feet, and that I’m only held back by my inability to choose one of the many options that are laid before me.   I moved to Georgia with the intention of being here a year, though I only signed a 6 months contract with the option to extend for another 6 months if I want.  BUT, now that I’m realizing that there is so much else out there for me, its hard for me to see myself staying here for a year.  So the first of my current options is to stick with the teaching thing and go teach in another country  (probally China, Korea, Vietnam, or the UAE) and perhaps even be able to save a bit of money while I’m at it.  Much of me is drawn to this,  as it will give me both money and more teaching experience, because I wouldn’t mind becoming a teacher once I get back Stateside, also, there is still that annoying ‘responsible’ side of me that knows I need to save money for the future.  The other option that is pulling at me is the becoming an Au Pair in one of the countries that I would love to live in for a while (ie New Zealand, Australia, France, Ireland, Italy, or South Africa).  This is appealing becaue, well, those are the countries I’ve always dreamed of visiting.  My third choice is to contact one of the volunteering agencies that I have found that are looking for help in pretty much any country I can think of.  I’m drawn to this because, I won’t lie, helping these kids that have nothing here in Georgia is pretty freaking rewarding, especially after holding a job that didn’t make a damn bit of difference to anyone for 5 years.  In the end I find myself in a similar situation, having to decide between living for the moment or planning for the future.  I change my mind depending on my mood for the day.  Though, I suppose I should stop whining now because, I have several great choices to choose from and I know eventually I’ll pick one and follow through on it.   Also I want to say that , I’m all ears on yall’s opinions because sometimes it just takes something I haven’t thought of before to make things more clear! 

 

Flexiblity is Key

No matter the wonders of this world I get to experience, I still find myself missing what I know and what makes me comfortable. Of course, it must be said that I list this as one of the main reasons I chose a third world country to teach in rather than somewhere that would afford me most if not all of the comforts of home. I do believe after this year I will have bragging rights on pretty much everything, and more importantly I will know how to truly appreciate the country I was born in despite its many flaws, not to mention the opportunities and luxuries that were available to me. I certainly have had many substantial adjustments moving here and would like to cover them in this post. And believe it or not, despite my constant humor about the no-indoor plumbing issue, that doesn’t really even make the list. So without further a due, my top “WTF” things I’ve had to adjust to.

Although I’m sure it depends on whom you ask, I believe that in the States I am considered at least a moderately funny individual and enjoyed that niche. As it turns out, sarcasm and dry humor most defiantly get lost in translation. So once again over my 27 years I have to redefine who I am, and come to terms with how Georgians perceive me.

Again, I’m sure it depends on who you ask, but I also consider myself a decent conversationalist and enjoy deep meaningful debates about religion, philosophy, policy or just everyday stupid things. I admit that I like hearing myself talk and consider myself “smarter than the average bear” , but being that I still can’t speak the language, the depths of my conversations are “Hi, how are you” or “Where is the bathroom?”. I’m also finding that I’m just not one of those people who pick up languages easily, and am constantly frustrated that I’m not picking it up more quickly. As vain as it seems, I just don’t want to be considered “the stupid American”.

The food. Most of you guys already know that I am a recovering obese person and still struggle with food addiction even when I’m stateside. I struggle with two aspects of the food here, one being the times at which they eat, the other being the quality of food. They don’t have a cafeteria at school so breakfast is at 8:30, Lunch is at 3 when I get home, and Dinner is usually around 9 at night and bed is around 10, yikes! Back home, I rarely eat past 6 pm, and I try not to eat simple carbs for dinner. Aside from the late times, the quality of food is sometimes questionable; I have yet to see a balanced meal on our table. Some days lunch and dinner is fried bread and regular bread….yep that’s it, bread, and copious amounts of butter or sour cream to drown it in. Other days we’ll have at least a vegetable on the table, that would be fried potatoes, and of course bread to go with. OR the complete opposite is served, meat, lots and lots of meat, perhaps even three or four types of meat . Most of which are filled with bones, gristle, tendon and if you’re lucky organs. I usually just end up eating bread for those meals, which is a choice I realize. To deal with the uncertainty of when I’ll get my next real meal, I find that if they put something on the table that I enjoy (usually the carb days), I tend to eat it with the veracity of a starving child that has been promised its last meal. I’m serious people, it’s an ugly sight. Because of this I’ve certainly gained a few pounds (yet would probably be malnourished if not for my multi-vitamins) and am sure that the only reason I haven’t gained more is because I’m constantly shivering to stay warm which I’m guessing burns quite a few calories. After a month of this, I am trying my damnedest to go on a diet here.

Lack of activity. I’m hoping this will change once the snow has melted and I can walk, run, hike around my village or surrounding areas. As of now walking down my hill, that I have affectionately name ‘Sheep Sh*t Lane’, is more like wading down ‘Sheep Sh*t River’. We still have a solid foot of snow on the ground that has yet to melt so, I’m guessing the dirt/mud roads won’t be runable for another 2 weeks. I was only able to bust out my jump rope yesterday for the first time now that my driveway is free of snow and ice. Lets just say I can’t wait for Spring when I plan on starting an Ultimate Frisbee club at my school!

Reverting back to being a child. One of the perks of being an adult is that you eat, sleep and do whatever you damn well please, whenever you damn well please. Which is true here if you aren’t living with a host family. Don’t get me wrong, I love my host family to pieces, they are amazing people but they defiantly treat me as a child, despite me only being 6 years younger than the host mom. It isn’t an issue of them thinking that I can’t take care of myself, it’s a matter of I’m a guest in their house and Georgians have a saying that “a guest is a gift from God”. Because of this, they don’t really let me do anything for myself, and I’m told (and am hoping) that this will start to die off a bit once I’m here longer. Bottom line is, I for certain miss my independence.

Having no sort of male contact above the age of 11. Boys and girls in Georgia, from my experience thus far, aren’t really friends. Girls hang out with girls, boys hang out with boys. That is until they get to be about twenty, then they meet , go on three or four dates then get married 3 months later. I tried to explain to my co-teachers and family that many if not most of my friends back in D.C. are men. They then look at me astounded then proceed to ask me why I didn’t marry and have children with one of them. This is then followed up with them trying to make me a match, usually with a son or other relative. I do enjoy their reasoning though, apparently if I marry a Georgian, America and Georgia will then become “brothers”. But back to the point, I do miss a constant male presence whether it is for a different perspective or for something as simple as sexual tension.

Lessons Learned

I don’t believe in fate, destiny, or that things, good or bad, happen for a reason. I personally feel that the choices we make dictate the life we lead. However, with that said, I can honestly look at my life now and say that I’m thoroughly delighted that things have worked out the way they have, both the good and the bad. I am where I am based on certain circumstances and am pleased with the choices, even the bad ones of which there are a few, I have made to get me where I am. You live and you learn, am I right? I mean, just think, if I hadn’t have made those choices I wouldn’t now know that the female anatomy is less than ideal for squatting in the same position to perform both bodily functions at the same time without peeing on the wall or yourself. Or, that you shouldn’t shotgun 12 glass wine on a Tuesday night because that will just lead to vomiting out your window onto the family car and stumbling down a flight of stairs the next morning in order to inform your family you won’t be going to school because you’re still drunk. Or, that despite a general hatred toward McDonalds, that I could for the first time (well other than that one time that involved an ill fated date ending with an unfortunate bought of food poisoning and a ruined pair of underwear, but that’s a story for a different time) feel the relief of seeing those golden arches. Or most importantly and seriously, that you should never settle for a life of settling. I feel these are probably life lessons I may have never learned had things not worked out the way they have or had I not made the choices I did. Of course, I have also learned a few things from my Georgian counterparts as well. From them I have learned that enforced traffic laws are a GREAT GREAT thing! That you should always love unconditionally and with your whole heart. That it should be normal everywhere for men to hug and kiss other men without a homophobic thought in their head. It should also be normal for teenagers to come home from school and sit on their mother’s or father’s lap and smother them with kisses. I’ve also learned that music, dance and the arts should be instilled in every person from an early age resulting in it being commonplace to bust out an accordion at dinner and sing a duet with your husband while your children dance around the table. And lastly for now, that I should come to terms singing at every function I’m invited to and therefore learn more songs by heart.

I’m sure I have plenty more lessons to learn while in Georgia, and perhaps I can even teach a few things to the Georgian’s while I’m here as well (such as you really shouldn’t put mayonaise on pizza).

The ABCs and 123s of living in Georgia.

Being that I am now a teacher, I think I’ll take this time to cover the ABCs and 123s of living in the Republic of Georgia and perhaps some of my likes and dislikes as well.  I’ve come to the point in my life that I now realize that embarrassing things are usually just funny and nothing really to be embarrassed about.  I’ll cover some of those moments as well because  I have to believe that some of the other TLGers are experiencing the same things as I am on some level.

ABC’s

A – For ass, as in the donkey that wakes me up hawwing outside my window at least twice a week.

B – for bread and butter, the stuff I make meals out of when I don’t want to eat poorly cut meat FOR EVERY MEAL.  That reminds me of another B, for butcher which they clearly don’t believe in the profession.

C- for chamber pot.  I’d rather use it than the Turkish toilet most of the time, as it beats marching 50 feet through nearly 3 feet of snow. Though I must admit I’m afraid I’m going to kill the rose bush outside my window emptying it every night.

D – for dogs. Georgia has wild dogs like New York City has pigeons….except I can kill pigeons with rice, whereas I have to keep rocks in my pockets to throw at dogs.  And don’t you make that “awwww poor dogs” comment and threaten to call Shara McClachlan on me.  Just try being chased by a pack of wild dogs then get all ASPCA on me.

E – for ‘End of Days”.. It’s what my farts  smelled like during my first two weeks with my host family as my digestive track  tried desperately to adjust…. and failed many nights.

F – for freezing…the temperature it hasn’t been above since I got here, which would be fine if they had indoor heating.

G – for gloves, the things I ignorantly put on top of the stove in my room to warm up thus setting them aflame. Don’t you judge me, I’m not use to thinking of these things and I know I’m not the only person to have done it.

H – for havael which is my new favorite vice.  It’s this food made of ground up sunflower seeds, mixed with sugar, flour, raisins and  sunflower seed oil.  It then solidifies into a texture of wet flour that has dried.  OOOMMMMGGGEEEE, soo yummy!  I could eat it bricks at a time.  Defiantly something I will bring back to the states.

I – for Indigestion…gods be good you would not believe the amount of bloat and gas I have suffered through. I drank a whole bottle of pepto in my first 4 days and I still ruined one pair of underwear that I just threw in the stove in my room instead of trying to salvage.  I don’t believe for one second that I’m the only person to experience this while adjusting to  my new diet, so I might as well laugh about it.

J – for  Jams and Jellies. My host mom makes an assortment of delicious jams and jellies with fruit from the garden.  So far my favorite is her plum jam.

K – for Killer bunnies that my family raises…no seriously these things are huge.

L – for Latin soap operas dubbed in Georgian that apparently every family watches and love!

M – for Mayonnaise, the substance that is added to almost every food including pizza and is sometimes eaten alone by the spoonful.  I’m still trying to figure out why some Georgian decided that the Italians had been making pizza wrong for the last however many hundreds of years and that what it was missing was cucumbers and Mayonnaise…

N – for Nino or Natia, the name of at least 60% of the Georgian female population.

O – for “Oh Sh*t Handle”.  I aptly named this handle in the Turkish Toilet that keeps you from falling over while taking a…well… sh*t.

P – for pig/pork, the kind of animal my host family killed in honor of my arrival. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some bacon but I can’t eat poorly cut pork for every meal as seems to be normal here.

Q – for quilts, the things I have 5 of on my bed to keep me warm at night.

R – for Rooster for the thing that sounds off at least 3 or 4 times a night to my annoyance.

S – for snow, the substance that hasn’t stopped falling from the sky since I got to my host house.  I think we’re up to two and a half feet now.

T – for Turkish Toilet….nuff said

U – for underwear as in the thermal kind that I wear several layers of at a time.

V – for vegetarian, what I wish I would have told my family I was and what Georgia will turn me into for the next year. I’m a picky meat eater even by US standards, I can’t eat fat or tendon without gagging and Georgians don’t believe in prime cuts or in not eating every part of the animal.

W – for water, the stuff I haven’t been drinking near enough of since I got here.

X –  I got nothing…X is such a stupid letter and Im pretty sure it ruins every ABC list anyone has ever tried to make,  unless you can use the word ‘xylophone’ in your ABC list, so screw you X!

Z – for Zura, my host father who draws me pictures  nearly every day so that I will teach him English.  He hasn’t figured out that I would do it anyways.

123′s

1 – number of times I have successfully started a fire in my stove by myself.  In my defense, the family doesn’t usually let me try! Though I’m still willing to bet that you will defiantly want me on your survivor team after this year!

2 – the number of times I have accidentally pissed on my leg while trying to use the Turkish Toilet.

3- number of times I have partially or completely missed the hole while trying to use the Turkish Toilet.   I mean it’s not like my family doesn’t know it was me who missed and all there is a little broom to sweep it to the hole.

4 – the number of house shoes I am required to have at my host home.  Well 3 indoor house shoes, one for each of the buildings, and one pair of outdoor shoes to wear in transport to the other buildings.

5 – the number of times I slip on average just walking to school down an icy hill. No bad falls yet though.

6 – the number of people in my host family. Omari – the grandfather, Makwala – the grandmother, Zura – the father, Maia – the mother, Ia the 15 year old daughter, Maka – the 12 year old daughter.

7 – the average time I have to ask what a word means before I’ll actually commit it to memory.

8 – the number of times a co- teacher  has tried to set me up with her 23 year old son to marry so that I will stay in Georgia forever. They have also pointed out that the house next door is vacant so me and my Georgian husband can live there.

9 – the number of shots of ChaCha I took on my host father’s birthday. Oh yea, I hung with the boys to prove a point and I was in better shape than most ) my hasher friends would have been proud.

10- the average number a day that I am called a “very good girl”……. they have no idea.

11 – the average number of times I have to say “no” before my family partially believes me and then will wait 5 min before I have to say “no” another 11 times.

12 – the average articles of clothing I am wearing at any given time to try to stay warm.

Likes

1 –  The don’t baby children here and there is no such thing as ‘child safety’.  The 4 year olds can start a fire  better than I can and are constantly playing with dangerous things.  I’m know this can be bad, but overall here the kids are taught to handle things with care.

2- Teenagers have responsibility and usually aren’t spoiled or bratty, at least in my village.  They have totally redeemed in my mind what teenagers can be.

3- There is no such thing as a ‘germaphobe’ in Georgia, which is perhaps also why I’ve never heard of a Georgian kid with asthma and other common aliments in the states.

4- That it is completely normal to bust out our guitar and according and start singing and dancing around the dinner table.  No one here is afraid to sing or dance, even if they are bad at it.  I love the musical culture here.

Dislikes

1- Their way of teaching alienates those students that aren’t naturally gifted, they just sit in the back of the class coloring and are never asked to participate.

2-  That most of the men are drunk……alllllll the time.  I mean, I get drinking for fun a couple nights a week, but when my host uncle shoots 5 vodka’s before breakfast and continues throughout the day, its concerning.

3-  Its hard for me to try and cook any thing that is a comfort food for me when I don’t want meat as they don’t have much of

 

Well, thats what I have for now.  I hope to start updating this more often once I figure out some computer issues )

Gamarjoba from Georgia!

Gamarjoba (hello) From Georgia, the land where drinking is a way of life and traffic laws are merely a suggestion. Thanks for tuning in this week to find ou how my first week in Georgia has progressed. Anywho, I have a lot to cover this week so I’ll just jump right in. Also, I will apologize right off the bat for typohhhs as I have no feeling in my fingers because its cold as nuts and central heating doesn’t really exist here.

Getting to Georgia

My trip from Atlanta Georgia to Tbilisi Georgia took me around 38 hours from start to finish. I left Friday the 13th at 7am (don’t worry you superstitious folks, I made sure listen to as much John Denver, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Buddy Holly as possible) and arrived in Tbilisi around 5 am on Sunday Morning. As some of you saw I had an 13 hour layover in Warsaw Poland and luckily was able to kill some time with my fellow TLGers who were flying through Poland as well. Let me just say that I totally see myself back in Warsaw, perhaps even in my next teaching gig. It was as cold as nuts there too. Actually, I should totally change this blog’s title to “cold as nuts”. But back to the point, the trip was long but it gave me the chance to get to know some of the other folks involved in the program.

Orientation week

After getting off the plane in Tbilisi and being interviewed like celebrities at the airport by Georgian media, they bussed us to our hotel, Hotel Bazeleti. After arriving at the hotel on Sunday most folks crashed for a little while before they had to bus us to the health clinic to take blood and urine samples to check for VD and drugs. Can I just say that its a super bad idea to ask for a urine sample from a group of folks who have been traveling for the last 48 hours and are for all intents and purposes dehydrated. Personally, it was like trying to get blood from a stone at that point…tmi, i’m sure, but whatevs. Moving along, the rest of the week was a crash course in the language, the culture and teaching methodology among other important things. All I can say is that my first week in felt like trying to drink water from a water hose, and that I maybe retained about 10% of the information. By the time I made it to Wednesday my brain had completely stopped working and all my teachers sounded about like all the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoon (if you get that reference then you are awesome). Though, I must admit that staying out past midnight and drinking copious amounts of Georgian wine every night probably didn’t help my mental capacity. FYI, Georgian wine = AMAZING… but more on that later. Overall, I would liken the TLG orientation week to that of the first week of college, lots of alcohol, lots of figuring out who you like and want to keep up with, perhaps a bit of learning, and of course lots of flirting and deciding who may or may not be on the ‘f*ck-it’ list to get you though your year in a country where sleeping with the locals isn’t really and option (yep, I said it). Thursday was the exciting day because that is when we finally learned where we would be located within Georgia, though we still weren’t told about our family until Friday afternoon. Most of our 57 folks where placed in the wester part of Georgia near the Black Sea. I however, was placed in the Eastern Region of Kakheti, which is known world wide for being one of, if not the oldest wine producing regions in the world. There were only 4 of us who were placed in the region. I’m just hoping that that means all the folks in my group will have to come visit me to help pick the grapes and make wine come late summer and fall!

My host family

On the Friday of orientation week, they finally gave us the information about our family and house. My slip of paper said “Two story house. No internet. Western-style indoor toilet. 6 family members, 2 grandparents, the mom and dad, 2 girls 12 & 15.” I got super excited about the western style toilet, because sh*tting in a hole didn’t sound all that great to me (foreshadowing). Saturday came and we finally got to meet our host families at last, they called my name and my host mom and dad had come to pick me up! Maia (host mom) and Zura (host dad) then picked up my things and headed straight for the car. Boy oh boy was that an awkward hour and half drive from Tbilisi to my home away from home. Also, I will never make fun of Jersey drivers again for their poor driving because I was absolutely terrified by my host fathers driving. He seems to be aggressive even by Georgian standards, Oy Vey!! When we finally arrived home I was able to meet the rest of the family, who are delightful. Immediately following introductions I asked in very poor Georgian when the toilet was, my host sister led me 50 feet away from the house in a brick shed like thing and pointed to the hole in the ground…..wahhhhhhh!?!?!? They said western style toilet not Turkish toilet, so yea, I get to sh*t in a hole for a year, but honesty after two days its not so bad. I mean, its not fabulous or anything, but on the bright side my quads will be killer by the time I leave Georgia ). Oh yea, I totally have my own chamber pot in case I need to go at night too. You know you’re jealous. Moving on, luckily one of my host sisters speaks a little (very little) English but it is still helpful even at that level. Though I have to say THANK GOD FOR GOOGLE TRANSLATE!! My sisters figured it out and then called the whole family in so that they could ask me questions. That was a fun time! After an hour of that, they asked me to stay forever and my host father Zura showed me all his pictures on his facebook of his vineyards and of the family making wine and all of the fresh fruits and vegetables out of his garden. He is very proud of his family and wine. Every time he would show a picture of his wife he would shout MAIA (his wifes name) and lean over and give her a big hug and kiss… so funny! Later on that night I made the girls a pair of earrings each. When I pulled out my jewelery making kit and beads, the whole family huddle around me and watched in amazement playing will all of my tools. The girls haven’t take their earrings off yet! Later that night we had a big family dinner when Zura showed me how to do a proper Georgian toast, which involves finishing your glass of wine every time someone makes a toast. Yea….he made 5 toast in a 10 minute period, but I had good form and finished ever glass and to my amazement, didn’t get visibly drunk! Go me!! Yesterday they took me on a tour of their village school (where I’ll be teaching), their garden, and vineyard, all of which are under a solid foot of snow at the time being. Its very pretty here!

Conclusion

So that pretty much sums up my last week. I am sorry that I can’t add all my pictures now, but I will try and get them on here in the next couple days!! So do tune in next week to hear about my first few days teaching!!

The Road to Georgia

I actually wrote this first entry the day I found out I was accepted into the TLG (Teach and Learn with Georgia) program. I’m just now posting it, but better late than never

December 7, 2011

After a week and a day of waiting for a decision following my interview, I finally received an offer letter from the Georgian Ministry of Education today! Yep, you read that right, the Georgian Ministry of freaking Education asked me, a small town Tennessee girl, to teach English as a second language to its students! First, let me just say that’s the Republic of Georgia (as in former USSR), not the state of Georgia. Though, I know from experience the state of Georgia could probably use a few English lessons as well (I kid, I kid……..mostly). Second, for those wondering I don’t really know if it qualifies as Europe or Asia, its pretty much the crossroads of the two and it depends on whom you ask. Thirdly, well, I don’t really have a third, I just like odd numbers

Now on to the gozillion thoughts and emotions flying through my head.

To be honest, my first thought was something along the lines of AHHHHHHHHHHHHHOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGAAHHHHHHHHHHHHAA HH!!!HOLYF*CKINGSH*TAHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHI’MSOHAPPYAHHHHHHHHH!!! Yep, I’d say that pretty much sums that initial feeling up, give or take a few AHH’s and Exclamation points. My second thought was, this calls for a bit of jumping up and down, and dancing to a bit of Party Rock in the bathroom mirror. That’s also known as my standard happy dance, and is reserved for my eyes-only and probably your imaginations now (I apologize for that). The third thought was more along the line of “sh*t balls, I only have a month to figure out the logistics of how I’m going to move to the other side of the world, and more importantly to make time for both my DC family and TN family.” That brought me down for a second, but then I remembered how much I know they love me, and how excited they are for me that I’m taking the chance to chase a dream. Learning that I won’t be able to see the people who helped me truly know and accept who I am for a minimum of a year is a hard pill to swallow. Of course, it’s not as if I am being forced to move to Georgia. However, I do feel with ever fiber of my being that this is the path forward for my life, no matter how hard it is to say goodbye.

The Road to Georgia

In January of 2011, while still working with the Navy, I experienced a life-altering event. A co-worker of mine decided that whatever he was going through was unsolvable and decided he would throw himself off of the building during work hours, resulting in his death. I was one of the few people in the Security Office that knew him, and stupidly my superiors decided that I should be the one to go through his personal effects on the very day he passed away. The reason for me to go through his personal effects was not to set them aside for his wife and two young children, but rather to make sure that he hadn’t stolen any sensitive work materials. I realized logically that it had to be done, but my heart couldn’t help but recognize the sheer lack of respect for life in general that most work places show. I don’t know what all this man was going through in his personal life, or his background of mental illness, but it had been documented that he was unhappy in his current position, and had asked to transfer many times to no avail. I’m not saying that the job was the sole reason for his actions, but I have to believe that it played an integral part in his unhappiness. That day opened my eyes to my own unhappiness. It made me realize that though I could never follow in his footsteps, that I wasn’t going to bow down to that feeling of being trapped with no way out. I left the Navy less than a month later to join a small Government Contractor.

The Contracting job was mildly better than the Navy, however, I still knew the desk job and all those florescent lights were giving me soul cancer. That if I didn’t get out I would soon die a slow death by powerpoint, paper-cuts, carpel tunnel and self loathing. But there I still sat, with my well paying semi-Government job caressing my head, whispering in my ear while brain raping me into thinking that financial security is what leads to eventual happiness. I knew that my job and our cultural norms were lying to me. I knew that financial security for me, was pointing in the direction of a life full of regret. A life spent maintaining my clearance by avoiding anyone not born in the United States or avoiding traveling to many fascinating countries. A life of reluctantly buying into the “American Dream”, settling down, and having children. Begrudgingly accepting a life that would lead to an obligation to stay in a soul sucking job to support this so called “dream”, and all of this because I was too scared to risk something I didn’t want in the first place.

As luck would have it, one fateful day in November, I was laid off. Usually when I tell people “I was laid off”, I’m met with the standard and somewhat awkward “I’m so sorry, that sucks”. I just smile and respond “Not at all, a congratulations is in order!” This is usually followed by a befuddled look, you know the “you were that special kid who licked the short bus windows, aren’t you” kind of look. Regardless of window licking habits, I can honestly say without a shred of doubt in my mind that being laid off was the absolute best thing that could have happened to me at this point in my life. As brave as I’ve wanted to be over the last 4 years , I never could quite order up enough gumption to pull a Johnny Paycheck and walk away from my carcinogenic career. When I was laid off that decision was made for me, I no longer had to worry about regrets either way! So there I stood liberated, and simply handed a second chance at life. A second chance to make major life decisions equipped with valuable information that my 22-year-old self couldn’t have fathomed knowing, most notably the acceptance of who I am and what I’m worth.

In an event, which the literary world refers to as ‘foreshadowing’, three days prior to being laid off I bought myself a Groupon for an ESL (English as a Second Language) Course in order to become certified to teach English overseas. I almost didn’t purchase it because at that time, logically I wouldn’t have a chance to use it due to aforementioned ‘safe job’. However, something in me just knew it was right, and that I would regret it if I didn’t. If my gut feeling and the available cheap ESL certificate wasn’t foreshadowing enough, I kid you not when I say that I was actually looking at googled pictures of the Republic of Georgia when the HR Manager came into my office to inform me they were letting me go. The next day I filled out my application for the program to teach English in Georgia, and the following day I had an interview set up. I breezed through the interview, and one week and a day later I am sitting pretty with a dream volunteering opportunity blogging about it for the world to see.