"It's Nice to Meet You, Mr. President"

So, I haven't posted in a while. There have been a lot of things going on. School started. My host family punished their daughter by taking the internet away (and she didn't even know that that was her punishment. Very effective, eh?). Living in Tbilisi is a lot different than Telavi. And I was going to write about all of these things. But one event eclipsed all of those! I met Misha Saakashvili himself! The President of Georgia! How do you like that?!

It happened this past Saturday. TLG offers excursions for the teachers; basically they take us out to do something traditionally Georgian, or just to see more of Georgia. About two weeks ago they took 200 people living in Tbilisi on an overnight stay in Batumi to see an opera. Yours truly was not able to go because I didn't sign up in time. But it's that sort of thing- all paid for, transportation included, you get fed. Pretty good deal. So this weekend was an excursion to pick grapes in Kakheti- the region of Georgia most known for it's wine and also where I was living last semester. I signed up thinking it would be a nice thing to do on a Saturday. But a few days later I found out that the president was going to be there! I was incredibly surprised because he had been at the opera in Batumi and he had been to another excursion the week before. Nonetheless, it was still exciting!

Saturday got off to a cold and blustery start. We had to meet for the bus at the Radisson Hotel here in Tbilisi at 9am. One thing Georgia doesn't seem to be big on is transitional seasons. A few days earlier it had been in the upper 70s, but Saturday morning was down in the mid-50s and the wind cut through my thin blazer so easily. They had us waiting outside the buses for a good 45 minutes in the cold. No idea why; we were looking at the buses, but we still had to wait outside. By the time we arrived in Katchreti, the vineyard school where we would be picking the grapes, everyone was kind of cold and grumpy. It didn't help matters that we had to wait around for another half hour just to pick the grapes. The morning was pretty unorganized. But everything got very organized very quickly when the president's helicopter got in sight. The security guys, who had been there the whole time, suddenly started walking around, telling people where to go. We weren't even allowed to take pictures of the helicopter as it landed.

Once Saakashvili was on the ground there was a huge group of people that flocked to him. Not being one for large groups I kind of stood off to the side. Close enough to see him, but without getting mixed up in the crush of people. As luck would have it he started making his way past the rows of grapes, shaking hands and saying hello. He wandered in my direction and I was able to shake his hand. I even said, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. President." First time I've ever been able to say that!

He had a little conversation with an older woman next to me. She was talking about teaching in Tbilisi when there was a bit of a lull in the conversation. He kind of looked off in the direction of the donkey, who had all of the grape baskets on his back, when Saakashvili starts telling the goofiest joke about a Kakhetian donkey on vacation as a school headmaster in Svaneti (another region of Georgia, in the mountains). It was so bizarre! But it was even funnier looking around at all the people doing the awkward obligatory laugh; that's what I was really laughing at.

So after his corny joke he moved on, shaking more hands and all that. Having felt satisfied with my handshake I stayed where I was- talking to my friends and just enjoying the sun that had just come out. We were goofing around with the grapes that were in buckets everywhere. We were taking a group picture with everyone holding a grape cluster when who walks up from behind us but Saakashvili asking if he could get in the picture too! We said, "Ooooh, okay, Misha. If you really want to be in our picture..." (or to be more accurate there was a collective, "YES! PLEASE!") How do you you turn down a president when he wants to get in your picture? It was so crazy! After that there was another swarm of people handing their cameras off to people. At one point I think Saakashvili had ten people on either side of him trying to get in.

It was such a surreal day. It wasn't so much that I was star-struck, I was just surprised that the President of Georgia was kind of a goofy guy. Especially the way the Georgians speak about him (the amount of languages they claim he knows boggles the mind. I think I've heard one report that he knows 12 different languages. Crazy stuff like that). But hearing him tell a goofy joke about a donkey and then asking us if he could be in our picture was definitely not what I was expecting.

And don't worry folks, I documented the day in pictures!

This is the security guard's feet at the front gate. There were police officers lined up and down the road for half a mile before we even arrived at the vineyard!

This is Dante the Donkey

Despite the intense security checkpoint, once we were inside we were given really large, sharp box cutters to cut the vines.

See! Large box cutter! Also, look at them grapes! I think I ate more than I picked, though. Oops.

Don't worry, Georgian Military, this isn't Saakashvili's helicopter, it's the second helicopter carrying all of his security guys with the very large guns and bullet proof vests

Dante the Donkey is a very hard worker

The picture that the president asked to be in!

If You Ever See an On-Coming Georgian Wedding- DUCK. AND. COVER.

So I wasn't in Georgia more than half an hour and I got invited to a Georgian wedding! I had been expecting to go to a Georgian wedding last June. It was my fluent English-speaking host cousin's wedding. I had helped her with a bunch of her English classes at the university and we got along really well, but I didn't get an invite to her wedding... But hey, that's cool. I'm not bitter... much. (No seriously, I'm not bitter. I think it may have been a culture confusion mix-up. I never received a formal invite, but that's because Georgia doesn't have a formal mail system. So everything is done by phone. And I'm still not sure if it's common custom that I am part of the family, therefore I am obviously invited. Or I was snubbed. I'm not bitter, just confused.)

The wedding was for my host father's nephew. I was told it was on the 8th, but no one really gave me an exact time. First it was at 12, then it was at 3, then it was at 2. Then it was 1 o'clock and I was told we were going. Thankfully I had the foresight to get dressed early because I know how these Georgians are kind of liberal with their times. And as it turned out, all of the times I was given were correct. And how can this be? you ask. Well, apparently a Georgian wedding is a multifaceted event (or at least, this wedding was multi-faceted). So here's the run down...

First, the family of the groom all met at his house for some light toasting. There were a couple of champagne glasses that made the rounds for all the people in the groom's family. When it was a person's turn to toast they were given one of the glasses, made their toast, and the toaster, groom and groomsmen all drank. So basically it all sounded like an elaborate rouse to get the groom drunk (but that's just my take on the matter). And the groom and a couple of his groomsmen were wearing traditional Georgian dress. It basically looks like a Cossack, but without the hat. (Here's just a picture of the traditional outfit I found on google), but the bride was wearing a very modern white dress.

From there everyone piled into their cars and we drove to the bride's house where her family has been doing the same thing. Now this is the thing you should take away from this blog: If you ever see an on-coming Georgian wedding- DUCK! AND! COVER! (It's in the title. I can't emphasize this point enough, people!) When they all pile into their cars it's basically a giant race to catch up to the limo, and the limo drives like it's a race to get to the wedding first. Everyone is bobbing and weaving through traffic, cars are slipping between each other, driving on the wrong side of the road. It's madness. And I was in the car with the guy videotaping the whole shebang. So not only were we bobbing and weaving, we were also skidding 180s around corners so he could get footage of the whole car procession. At one point we drove right up alongside the limo nearly taking off the side mirrors of both cars!

So after we picked up the bride we went to the church. And this was one of the odd parts. We spent a good half hour milling around the church, which is very easy to do because Georgian Orthodox churches don't have any pews. If you've ever seen a Russian Orthodox church it's basically the same aesthetic- no pews, frescoes of saints and Jesus, candle holders, icons. At one point I thought the wedding began because I heard the wedding march, but it just turned out to be someone's ringtone on their cell phone. Finally the priest showed up and the wedding commenced. And maybe I could have appreciated it more if I spoke fluent Georgian, but I don't, therefore the entire hour of the priest chanting was kind of lost on me. But it seemed that I wasn't alone because throughout the ceremony people kept on walking around the church, chatting with each other. At any given point during the ceremony half the wedding party was outside in the church courtyard. And a couple of times my host sister asked if I wanted to go sit down outside. All in all, everyone seemed a wee bit underwhelmed by the whole ceremony. Not a tear was shed.

After the church ceremony we piled into the cars again and began the mad dash to what I assumed was the party (and I was starving by this time, so I sincerely hoped it was the party). And we pulled up to a big restaurant-looking building. Once again we milled around in the big marble lobby for a bit. Pictures were taken by all. My host sister told me it would be a ceremony with dancing, which I assumed to mean party. But it was, in fact, another ceremony. We were all brought into this very, very pink room with some large mirrors on the walls (that all of the women flocked to and checked their makeup). There was a little stage in the middle of the room with a podium to the back of it. A woman, wearing what looked like a waitress outfit of a plain white button-down and a black skirt, turned on a very loud rendition of the wedding march and the bride and groom walked in arm-in-arm. They stepped up on the podium where the waitress-looking woman said a few words and the bride and groom signed their marriage contract. This whole ceremony felt so contrived. It looked more like some drive-by Vegas wedding than an actual ceremony. And yet people were getting tear eyed! After they signed their contract the woman switched the CD player to some corny overly romantic song and the bride and groom had their first dance as one of the bridesmaids went up to a second level of the room and sprinkled large silver confetti on them. Now I thought that this was maybe a little thing that the restaurant did and from there we would go into the room where the party would be. But nope, this was the whole purpose of this stop.

So back in the cars we all piled and off to Sameba Cathedral (here's the wiki page for it). This is the big cathedral in Tbilisi. And I must say, it is quite impressive. Just walking up to it is amazing. The marble walkway from the entrance gates up to the church steps is simply gorgeous. It almost makes you feel like you're walking on water. And there are gardens, which I only saw a small portion of. I would love to go back some time just to spend a leisurely afternoon and really enjoy it. And also take plenty of pictures. Being there really made me wish that I had a nice camera.

Finally we got to the party! As far as American wedding ceremonies go, I would say it was fairly similar. Except the songs were all in Georgian (except for one heavily Georgian-accented Spanish rendition of Shakira's 'This Time for Africa'), and the toasting was also in the Georgian style of no one drinks the wine unless there has been a toast made by the tamada (the 'toast master'). Oh and there was food. So much food. By the end of the night we were five layers deep in food because they just kept piling the serving plates on top of the last one- even though all the plates still had food on them! The food was very Georgian. And my host father's brother (I think that's who he was), kept piling food on my plate and he wouldn't let me pour my glass, even when I was pouring water! He would take the bottle out of my hand and our the rest himself, despite the fact that it was almost full anyway. That did start to bother me. I like to be a very hydrated individual (which is weird for Georgians because they never drink water), so I was refilling my water a lot. But he refused to let me do it myself!

Another difference with the songs was also that occasionally they would do a traditional song that required the traditional dancing, which I have only the vaguest idea of what to do. So I did not dare go out on the dance floor when I saw people's hands start doing the little twirly motions. The dance floor is also a dangerous place when they are doing the traditional dances- there is a lot of leaping and jumping involved. I'm not very well coordinated on a good day. But when there are people running and leaping around me, I know it'll end poorly for all parties involved.

A random cultural thing I noticed was that it doesn't seem improper for other women to wear to wear white! I saw the first woman in white and thought, "Oh, that's in poor taste." But then a couple other women were wearing white, too, so it must not be an issue.

Well, folks, that was my Georgian wedding experience! If you ever get a chance to go to a Georgian wedding definitely grab it. Just be well hydrated and maybe have a snack on hand.

New Semester, New Blog!

Well, okay, it's not a completely new blog. But it's got a new name! "How to Eat Khinkali: And Other Tidbits for the Georgian Traveler." What do you think? Sound good?

Well, I've finally arrived! It was quite the horrible trip to get here. All in all it took 32 hours of travel to get from Boston to Tbilisi. A majority of which was spent waiting around in airports. And after all of that I still didn't finish my book! Would you believe that!

And along with my new semester is a new host family. I was expecting to get an apartment in Tbilisi this semester, but it is really difficult to rent if you're only here for 4 months; I know that's the case in the U.S., but I kind of figured they might be a bit more lax about it here. Oh well. The new host fam is pretty cool. There's a 15 year old girl, Mari, who'll be my student at at school. And then there is an 18 year old girl, Irina, who is married! Jeez! She's married! And she's been married for a year!! When I told the two sisters I was 23 they gasped like I had one foot in the grave. Jeez. I forgot how much of a tipsy-turvy place Georgia can be. The new house is definitely a lot nicer than my old host family's house. This house was re-built 7 years ago. I would say the only drawback is that the shower is across the alley from the house. On the drive from the airport Mari was telling me that they live in an "Italian yard." I expected that to be a courtyard. But no, they live in an alley. Granted it's a very nice alley. They seem to know all of their neighbors very well and it's quiet because there aren't any cars driving by. But I would not call it an "Italian yard." Thankfully it's not a large "Italian yard" and the shower isn't far away. I don't quite know how to describe the shower room. It's not just for a shower. It's sort of like... a basement! Yes, it's like a basement across the street. And in this "basement" there is not only the shower but also a washing machine and a tread mill! Yes, that's right folks, a tread mill! Gone are the days of paying 30 lari a month to go use the tread mill at the Telavi Tennis Courts! A free tread mill!

My new place has some definite perks. Although living in Tbilisi definitely has a much different feel than Telavi.  The people here seem a lot more preoccupied with appearances. The same can be said of any big city, but I didn't expect the discrepancy to be so marked. Although, to be fair, I am basing this assumption on the wedding I attended last night (don't worry, I'm planning a whole other post about it!). And everyone gets tarted up for weddings (except me, evidently. I didn't bring any super wedding-worthy clothes. Oops). Perhaps I'll end up having to succumb to the Tbilisi fashion and get me a pair of 5 inch toothpick-thin stilletoes, a couple pounds of make-up, and a brightly colored shirt with excessive bows and frills.

Or not.



More to come! Stay tuned! It's a whole new semester with all new adventures!

Winding Down

The last day of school is Wednesday. That's in two days! Oh my! But since there are only two days left, of course I haven't had any students showing up for the past week. I mean, even the last two weeks have been comprised of skeleton classes. Mostly it's just the smart kids who care. But I wasn't able to take advantage of that because the teachers had them doing tests mostly. And then last week happened and whole classes stopped showing up entirely. In my seventh grade last Thursday there was one girl. I taught her how to make paper cranes.

Now I'm not exactly surprised that kids have stopped showing up. The four and a half months I've been here have illustrated that no one seems to be a stickler for classroom attendance. But today I had an interaction with a student that just absolutely floored me. I honestly wanted to burst out laughing in this girl's face. About 2 weeks ago a girl in my 9th grade class asked if I could tell her about American slang. I was a little hesitant because this girl's English isn't very good. I'd much rather her practice vocab and grammar. I also feel like people sound so dumb when they speak slang in other languages. I have images of the old SNL sketch with Dan Aykroyd and Steve Martin flash through my head- "We are two wild and crazy guys!" But I talked it over with another volunteer and decided that it might be a good class activity. This was two weeks ago. This girl that asked me to do this hasn't shown up to class once in those two weeks, but she's had no problem stopping me in the hall and asking if I'll give her something on slang. And when she asks I say, "Next class." So today I was sitting in the teacher's room and this girl came by to speak to another teacher and on her way out she came over and asked if I could give her something on slang tomorrow. I said, "Yes, we have class tomorrow I'll give it to you then." And she then proceeded to crinkle her nose and say, "But we class in the 5th period tomorrow and I don't want to stay." This student actually told me that she just didn't want to stay for class! After asking me for two weeks to do something for her, it's really such a hassle to stay in school until 1 in the afternoon?

I have some slang for you: Ballsy.

Holding back my astonishment/annoyance I sternly told her, "Too bad. We are still in school and you are supposed to go to class. So if you want this you'll have to come to class." I can't even imagine ever saying that to a teacher in the U.S. Wow.

I'll be back in Boston in about a week and a half. I can't wait to get a break from Georgia.

Connecting with Arianna Huffington

 I have a guilty pleasure; I absolutely love graduation commencement speeches. There are two reasons for this: 1. They are always filled with such hope and inspiration for the future, and 2. There is a part of my brain that refuses to believe that I am no longer a student. In fact, since being in Georgia, I constantly have to remind myself that this is not a school trip or a year abroad. This is actually my job in my real world life.


The reason I'm sharing this guilty pleasure, which may be similar to someone saying that they love when friends sit them down for a slide show of their vacation photos, is because I recently watched the Sarah Lawrence Class of 2011 commencement speech given by Arianna Huffington of the Huffington Post (which has only been around since 2005, which surprised me. I thought it was way older than that). Of course I have to say how happy I am for all of my friends that recently graduated. It's hard to believe that we're all grown-ups now. No more lying around on Westlands lawn or sitting on the hot rock- well we could, but I think it would be considered trespassing. For those of you who aren't SLC people, here's the commencement speech:

The two things that stuck out from her speech were her thoughts on the desire to connect with the world and her thoughts on getting lucky by being unlucky.

Since being in Georgia I've been thinking about the concept of 'community' a lot (and as soon as I start thinking about 'community' I think back to all of my classes with Julie Abraham where she was dead set on making us realize that the concept of 'community' only exists in our heads. So when I think of the construct of community and how I perceive communities within Georgia I imagine that Julie Abraham is somewhere in New York frowning but she doesn't entirely know why. Sorry, Julie!). I think about Georgian communities- most of which are based on family ties and are very different from the U.S. I also think about the refugee community where I teach every week as well as the expatriate community that I socialize with. There is a whole lot of community going on in my life. And what am I doing with all of it? I'm just trying to connect. I'm trying desperately to connect with the Georgian community- which is very strained at times due to language. I'm trying to connect to the refugee community because I am inspired and humbled and so many other things by the amazing women I meet at the community center. And I am trying to connect with the expatriate community because after all of the cross-cultural connections I'm trying to instigate, at the end of the week I just want to have people who speak the same language and who can laugh about the same things. All I do with my life is connect. Even this blog is a testament to my desire to connect with yet another community- my friends and family who are not on this journey with me (oh man, this post just got kinda meta. Whoa). And I think it is important to say that this project that I am on is a attempt by the Georgian government to integrate Georgia into the global community.



The idea that bad things can happen for good reasons is not exactly a new one. But I think that people too often forget it. For instance, it took me 9 months to get a job that did not involve wearing a shirt with a company logo. And the first real job that I got was to teach English in Georgia. Sometimes I forget that, yes, this was the first job that I could actually get. Although it may sound bad to put it in such blatant terms, it's how it happened. And although the time between graduation and the day I got a job was hard and soul crushing and depressing and ego deflating and I could go on, but I'll spare you, it was worth it in the long run. The other jobs I was applying for involved sitting at a desk for an interminable amount of time, getting coffees, and fixing xerox machines. Sure, the money would have been better, but I definitely would not have been able to have the adventures that I've had and meet the people I have met and even endure the hardships that will be good for me in the long run. I had a lot of doors close on me, but then a big ol' window opened up. And even on my bad days here I think I would do well to remember that being in Georgia is a hell of a lot better than being at Trader Joe's.


So, to all of my new fellow SLC alumni, I wish you all the best in whatever comes next. And for everyone else who is not so new to the real world, remember, we can always make it better.

Wait, So What is it I'm Doing Here Again? Oh Yeah, TEACHING!

There is one topic that my teaching blog has failed to account for- teaching. Writing about food, culture, and travel is great and everything. But I have yet to write about what I'm actually doing here.

This wasn't an accidental oversight. Truthfully, the reason for this shortcoming is that I don't always like to write about bad things or things that bother me. Don't get me wrong, teaching isn't as bad as that makes it sound. It's just that there are aspects of the Georgian educational system that are kind of hard to a. explain on a very basic level, and b. hard to deal with on a personal level.

A. It's hard to explain to people the things that schools throughout Georgia go without: supplies, all the students being able to afford books, all of the English teachers actually being able to have a conversation with a native speaker, electricity, heat. It's hard to explain that there are a lot things in American schools that no one even thinks about but Georgian schools just don't have them.

B. It is also hard to explain how I am dealing with explaining to teachers that there are many things in their books that are just incorrect. The books are rife with grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, and gender stereotypes. And the gender stereotypes are often the hardest to deal with. How do you tell a teacher that you don't want to use an entire page of the book because the entire exercise is based on the fact that women can't drive, or that women are supposed to clean dishes and go shopping while men are supposed to fix appliances? How do you explain that although the students will probably forget the actual lesson in a few days, they will retain the underlying assumptions about the roles of women and men? But the gender stereotypes can be another blog all its own (and eventually will be, hopefully).

So what am I actually doing here, day to day? Well, my average week looks a little like this...

Mondays are never very remarkable. Almost all schools in Georgia start at 9am and I have the first class on Mondays. It's the 8th grade. They might be my favorite class. But they might be my favorite class mostly because of one student. He is ridiculously smart, but he is hyperactive. My co-teacher told me that he was diagnosed with "hyperactivity," whether that means ADD or ADHD (its hyperactive cousin) I have no idea. But instead of getting him the help that he needs, his parents refused to believe it. Their child is "normal." So he talks through all of class, standing up, moving his desk, switching chairs, disrupting everything and everyone. But the funny thing is he talks all through class in English- it just has absolutely nothing to do with what we're studying. He'll talk about werewolves and act out his own little movie scenarios (complete with different voices for the different characters) and basically do anything that is not related to class. He could be a really fantastic student if he could just focus. So yeah, that's my first class Monday. Then I have 6th and 4th grades. Nothing much to report on those, honestly. I'm free around 12:30 and then I go to the gym at 3.

And, yes! I have a gym! It took about 2 months to find, but I found one! It's at the Telavi Tennis Courts, which is a small scale tennis club down the street from my house. The gym isn't too, too bad. It's a small room, maybe 12x12. There are 2 treadmills; an eliptical (which doesn't work), a bike machine (which might also be a little broken); a weight lifting machine for legs, arms, and shoulders (it's in need of a little oil and the cords could be tightened a bit); there's this weird thing that's like a bench and it moves so you can work your abs, but I usually just use it as a bench; several random cheap looking things that I'm not really sure what they're supposed to do; a rowing machine that only works your arms, but not your legs at all. And the best thing out of them all is a machine that's supposed to just vibrate the pounds away. It's a belt that's attached to a little machine. You strap yourself in, press go, and stand around while this machine jiggles the pounds away. It is the weirdest sensation! The gym isn't wonderful, but it serves its purpose. And it helps me feel better about all the bread and potatoes I consume on a daily basis.

Tuesdays I have 8th and 6th again, but my last class is 9th grade. Holy Heavens, I hate my 9th grade class. (Can I say that I hate a class? Doesn't sound very teacherly, does it?) It is always taken over by the boys in the class. None of whom do anything or care at all. Some of the girls will do their work and bring their books, sometimes. But they can't ever speak over the din of the boys talking in the back. And you can't do anything to stop it. There is no detention hall, no notes home to parents, no punishment for anything. One day I stood in front of the class and told my teacher to translate everything I was saying exactly (because the boys don't know anything except "Sit down" and "Shut up!" which they yell out constantly during class). I told them they were disrespectful and they should be ashamed at themselves. Shame. Yep, that's a big word in this culture. It didn't get them to stop talking, but it did actually draw them out of their little chit chatting. Ahh well, baby steps, I guess.

Wednesday is my busy day. I go to 8th, 4th, and 9th grades. I get done at 2:20. It was originally 2 o'clock when I first got here in February, but the schools have switched to their warm weather schedules. So now I'm done at 2:20. I have to rush up the hill to my house (about a 10 or 15 minute walk), grab a very quick lunch, then race up to the university by 3 where 2 other TLG volunteers and myself teach English to Telavi University professors. I teach the advanced class. Although "teach" isn't really an appropriate term. I basically show up and have conversations in English. This is the most cultural interchange I probably have all week. Most conversations come down to what they do in Georgia versus what we do in the U.S. It's really interesting and it's a really good forum where I have a valid reason to ask all the stupid questions I have about Georgian culture. After that I go to the gym again. Yay, gym!

And then there's Thursday. I have 8th and 6th grades and then 3rd grade. The 3rd grade is good. It's mostly playing games. But the problem is that I am really handicapped by the language barrier. My co-teacher for the 3rd grade is my worst teacher. I have to repeat everything I say at least once- her conversational skills are next to nil. And the 3rd graders' English isn't good enough to understand what I say unless it's basic questions about what's in the book. So I'm really dependent on this teacher who can't understand me. It eats up a lot of class time. This is also the same teacher who blew me off several times when I had tried to arrange meetings with her to make lesson plans. And when we eventually get around to making lesson plans she doesn't pay attention to them during class anyway. She is really a terrible teacher. It's so frustrating.

But Thursdays always get better. After school I catch a marshrutka (the minibuses that are the primary mode of transportation throughout the country. There isn't really an organized public transit system, just the minibuses) to Akhmeta, a town about 40 minutes away. Akhmeta is where the UNHCR office is located for the region. One of the girls from my group is living with the director of the UNHCR Akhmeta office and helps run the Pankisi Community Center. Pankisi is one of the major areas where Chechen refugees are living. I visited Pankisi for three days last time I was in Georgia. Those were the most powerful three days I think I've ever had and I knew I wanted to try and come back, even just for a visit. But now I can do more than just visit. Every Thursday I go to Pankisi and teach two English classes. The first is for high school seniors who don't have much occasion to practice what they learn in class. I really like this class because they actually want to learn. Sometimes I forget that these kinds of students exist! After the seniors I teach the staff who work at the community center. They are a really great class, too! These women are so funny and have such lovely personalities. I'm pretty sure most of them are refugees (which reminds me: You should never do the activity of describing the rooms of your house while teaching refugees. Mostly because the dining room, living room, bedroom, and kitchen can be the same room. I was so embarrassed when I did that. Oi vey). I wish my Russian was better so I could sit down and talk to them and hear their stories. The staff of the community center is entirely women and they are so inspiring. I always leave Pankisi in a good mood. Always.

And then it's Friday! I wish I could say Fridays were easy, but they are anything but. I have all day with my worst teacher. Our first class is 7th grade, then there is a 10 minute break, and then we have the 7th grade again. It is the most foolish way of organizing a class. I'm sure the students love it because they don't have as much homework. But I think it's a foolish waste of time. After the 7th grade it gets a bit easy with the 3rd grade, but I still find myself wicked stressed after leaving school at the end of the day. My bad teacher is just so bad. And it's an evil cycle: her students don't speak or understand English very well, so I'm dependent on her translating everything I say, which eats up more time, which means that the students don't learn as much and they stay in this stagnant place. It's so frustrating. At the end of the day I usually end up calling someone in the area just go to a cafe and chill out. By the end of the week I'm usually in need of a casual drink with a friend. And I do mean casual- drinking with the host fam is always a huge ordeal that requires toasting and eating and drinking to excess. Sometimes I just want to hang out, chat, and have a beer. Well, ideally I'd like to have a cocktail, but they seem hard to come by in this country of beer and wine. I didn't really have a problem with this until about 2 weeks ago when I was walking down the street and out of nowhere I thought of gin and tonics. Ever since then I can't stop thinking about them, especially since the weather is getting nicer. But I have yet to see any limes or tonic water in this country, a sad fact I'll have to live with until July. And I don't understand how they can be bereft of limes. They have oranges and lemons everywhere, so why not limes?

Wow, that was quite the sidetrack. It's probably a bad sign when you're talking about work and you get sidetracked onto cocktails. But these things happen... evidently.

Weekends are always different. Sometimes I'll go into Tbilisi if I need a break from Telavi. But it can get so expensive, especially because it's almost impossible to spend an afternoon in the capital. It just makes more sense to stay the night, which is 20 lari right there (I get a TLG discount at this one hostel that's in the center of town. It's really great. It's called Boombully. Definitely check it out if you ever find yourself in Tbilisi). I try not to go into Tbilisi too often. Most weekends I'll stay in Telavi, see other volunteers in the area, and basically chill out.

So that's what my week looks like. I hope I haven't bored you too much. But I figured I should account for what my job actually is. People might start to suspect that I've been hired to just hang out and travel around; although, that was the driving conspiracy theory behind my last blog post, wasn't it? But despite the looks of things, I do actually have a job here. I promise.