"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!

Oh my бог!

I don't think I've ever felt more American than I did this past week. It's not because it was the 10th anniversary of 9/11. And it wasn't because I stick out like a sore thumb around these parts as being significantly not Georgian. Nope, it's all because I had the most American evening in my entire life.

It started in pretty typical Georgian flair- the sisters decided we were going to the movies so off we went, without checking the movie times or what was playing. (because why would you plan ahead when you could just GO?) We arrived at the movie theater and had to wait around for over an hour to watch what we thought was a Russian-dubbed version of that really bad shark movie. You know, that one that recently came out. It's about the group of college kids on vacation who find trouble and have to run around while hardly wearing any clothes. Basically, it's I Know What You Did Last Summer, except with sharks instead of a psycho killer. I figured I would just roll with it because that type of movie isn't really dialogue-heavy anyway (a scream in English is a scream in Russian is a scream in Georgian, etc., etc.) It turned out that the movie was actually The Hangover II. Don't know how that mix-up happened, but I was still in the 'I'll roll with it, sure thing' mood. It was still in Russian, though. And even though it was dubbed in Russian and I was the only one who laughed when Mike Tyson made an appearance (because I was the only one who knew who Mike Tyson is), I felt oddly American. I think what really did it for me was the coke. You see, I don't drink coke. I'm not a huge fan of soda in general and coke leaves an overly sweet and vaguely metallic taste in my mouth. But you know, I was just so thirsty and my host sister had bought the thing for me that I just went with it. And sitting there with my popcorn and coke, I just felt American.

And the American tour of Tbilisi didn't stop there. After the movie the sisters took me to McDonald's. For some reason instead of walking to the McDonald's, their dad picked us up in his large SUV and drove us the two block's to McDonald's- if that isn't American, I don't know what is. And looking around at the McDonald's clientele, I couldn't help but notice the overwhelming amount amount of American logos on t-shirts and jeans and handbags. And if a t-shirt didn't have a logo on it, it would have something in English.

It seemed so strange, almost too American. It funny, you don't realize just how America is portrayed through TV and movies until you see people trying to imitate that. When most Americans look at shows like My Super Sweet Sixteen and The Kardashians we realize that it is more fantasy than reality TV. The percentage of people who live like that is very small. But that rationale really gets lost in translation when these images are broadcast all over the world. When a young Georgian sees these images what else are they to think other than, "Wow, that's how Americans live." And unless people actually go to America and see for themselves that we are not how our television represents us, it is pretty hard to crack the veneer of their image of America.





P.S.-The title of this post is one of the Great Moments in Dubbing History. In the Hangover there's one point where one of the characters does a very slow and shocked, "Oh. My. God." For some reason the Russian dubbers decided to say, "Oh. My." in English, but then just said the Russian word for God [pronounced bog]. I was the only one in the theater who seemed to find that incongruity hilarious...

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!

Onward and Westward!

Gooooooood morning, Warsaw!

I left Tibs at 4:40 am. So right now I'm working off of 2 hours sleep on the plane and a delicious latte I got here in Warsaw. A latte with properly steamed milk and NO sugar (so help me god) and just the right amount of foam. Oh golly, my heart may have skipped a beat. It's been so long since I've had proper coffee.

But I digress. I'm in Poland now. My layover here is six and a half hours. Oh me, oh my. Then it's off to New York for me. Another four hours there. And then home! To Boston! Land of magic and awesome! And I'll get steak! Oh glorious, delicious steak!

Sorry. Digressing again. Wow, I'm a bit all over the place. I'll try to get a little shut eye, but I think that latte, apart from being delicious, was also more caffeine than I've had in recent months. Woooo weeee!

I think I'll go now. Wish me happy travels!

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.

Confessions of a Tetri Gogo: Adventures in Language

I noticed last night while having dinner with some friends that most conversations with TLG volunteers usually end up being about language. It will either be about how language barriers are difficult or how we've learned things about our own languages since being here. It's always brought up at least once in an evening.

But it's a completely valid conversation topic because language is always around us. Language makes up about 75% of our lives. And I don't mean just talking, I mean 75% of our lives is taken up by explaining grammar, speaking veryveryvery slowly, thinking about how we should phrase something in the most bare bones manner, trying to speak Georgian, and generally thinking about speaking or others' speech.

Although it can be incredibly frustrating sometimes, it has resulted in quite a few anecdotes. I will now share with you the most recent ones, which are also the most hilarious...

The other day I was with a friend in a second-hand shop owned by two little old ladies. These women were just sitting around when we came in. We were meandering among the clothes and the two ladies didn't pay us much mind, they continued their chatting. My friend and I both went up to the front of the store (not that it was that far away from the back of the store). For some reason the two old ladies got up out of their seats and stood there staring at us. They didn't come any closer to us- mostly because for them to be any closer we would have had to give them piggy back rides. So there they were, about a foot away, staring when suddenly I hear one of them mutter, "Tetri gogo [თეთრი გოგო]" For those of you who don't speak Georgian that means "white girl." I can only image that I was the "white girl" in question because I'm pretty damn white. I have no idea what I did to illicit such a phrase being hurled in my direction, I don't even know if it was meant to be an insult. All I know is that I had to fight the urge to crack up laughing. It was such a strange interaction.

Later that day my friend and I went to a cafe. Our choice in cafe was probably not a wise one- we went to the more popular cafe in town where all of the students go (okay, it's one of 2 cafes in town, so it's not like we had a whole lot of choices). Not surprisingly after being there for a little while we were quite literally surrounded by students, all boys.  And they were forming a radius around us. Personally, I do not like a. large crowds of teenage boys, and b. being the center of attention. So this was really not my scene. Not to mention most of these boys went to my school and knew my name, despite the fact that I had never seen them before. I really wanted to leave. However, the problem with having a radius of people around you is that there are no secrets. So I implemented the weapon of ex-pats everywhere: slang. I often use slang and speak quickly when I don't want Georgians to know what I'm saying and it usually works pretty well. So I turned to my friend and said, "I want to peace." Now, I say that slang usually works because after I said that I wanted to "peace" one of the boys turned to me and said, "The toilet is in the back and to the right." I think after an interaction like that all you can do is leave and leave quickly.

Those are some of my better run ins with language and misunderstandings thereof. I'll spare you the tedious and frustrating ones. I hope you've enjoyed them and maybe you will better appreciate the next conversation you have.

Two Hours in a Kutaisi Police Station

On the evening of Sunday, April 17, 2011, approximately between 1900 hours and 1915 hours I lost my wallet on the street or in a minibus in Kutaisi, Georgia. It was pink. It contained 150 lari, my bank cards (American and Georgian), my health insurance cards (American and Georgian), my American driver's license, and several hundred dollars in American gift cards. I know these details quite well now because I spent two hours in a police station explaining the contents of my wallet and the events surrounding its disappearance.

I now sincerely regret going to the Kutaisi police because of a simple wallet that I will undoubtedly never see again, a fact I have now come to terms with. But upon the realization that it was gone I panicked slightly, it being the first time I had ever lost a wallet. I was in Kutaisi traveling with a friend, both of us are English teachers in the eastern part of Georgia, about a 5 hour drive away (if you are lucky enough to have your own car and not the public buses). As I was traveling and away from my town and I had never lost a wallet before I had no clue what I should do. I called up Teach and Learn with Georgia (TLG), the teaching program I work for, and they told me to go to the police. And thus began an epic endeavor that would color not only that evening, but the entirety of my three days in Kutaisi.

My friend and I arrived at the police station a little before 10 o'clock at night. There was a detective working there who spoke a little bit of English. However, to be on the safe side, I called TLG to help me translate. I gave them a description of my wallet, where I lost it, and what it contained. After hanging up with TLG the female detective who spoke English told us to sit down upstairs. It would only be another 10 or 15 minutes.

Mikhail Saakashvili, the Georgian president, has been pouring money into police departments all over the country to renovate the police stations. The aesthetic is all glass facades- a symbol of transparency. The Kutaisi police station had clearly been recently renovated- the walls and floors were all shiny white marble and you could see the pristine condition of the desks in the upstairs office. But the facade was not glass. It was the standard pink stucco of most Georgian buildings. I'm sure they didn't opt out of the glass facade in order to continue their corrupt ways or anything, don't think I'm alluding to that. Although I did find it odd to have renovated the police station top to bottom (there were before and after pictures hanging on the wall), but neglect to give it the standard Saakashvili touch.

When I went to the office upstairs I was offered a seat in a large, barren office area. There were the new desks arranged in two clusters of four. Most of them were empty, save a few papers and personal items. Definitely no computers in sight. I sat down and watched a James Bond movie that had been left on in the empty room. After 20 minutes the female detective came upstairs and I asked her if they had tried calling the other police stations to see if anyone had turned in my wallet. It had been over 3 hours since I lost it. My primary hope in going to the police in the first place was for them to contact the other stations in the city. I did not expect any crack detective work, I just wanted to see if anyone had turned it in somewhere.

About half an hour after arriving I was informed that a local English teacher would be coming to help get my statement, which I had already given to them via the TLG translator on the phone when I first arrived. My friend and I were shuffled into a smaller office. Despite the fact that the office had all of the lights off and the door had been locked, the television in there had also been left on, and it remained turned on during the entirety of my interview.

After waiting another half an hour I was introduced to a rather unsavory looking detective who's gun was rather hastily shoved into the waistband of his trousers. Although he seemed friendly enough, I got the impression that I would not want to be on the wrong side of the interview table from him. To kill time before the English translator arrived I was given the usual Georgian line of questioning, “Do you like Georgia?” “Do you like Georgian food? Khachapuri? Khinkali?” “What are you going to see while you are here?” It was our first night in Kutaisi, so I gave a list of the sights we were planning on seeing, something I would later come to regret.

The English teacher finally arrived and we went through a long hour of repeating the same basic facts. "I got my wallet out to get money while waiting for the 1 bus." "I shoved it in my bag as I saw the bus coming." "No, no one was around me at the time. No, no one saw how much money was in my wallet." "No, no one could have stuck their hand in my bag. It was on my lap the entire time." "Did someone steal it? Probably not. I don't know."

There were many times I wanted to say that if I knew exactly how I lost it I wouldn't be here in the first place. But I figured that would not be the best thing to say to these rather greasy looking detectives. Shortly before midnight I finally signed my statement-which had been entirely hand written by a yawning officer on a blank piece of computer paper. And before I left I was instructed to come back in the morning at 11 o'clock to pick up my "official documents- free of charge." I had to suppress a groan at the thought of returning to the police station. And I had to suppress a laugh at the thought of being charged for paperwork- damn right it'll be free of charge. I don't have any way of paying you, anyway.

At 10:55 the next morning I trudged my way to the station. The officer at the front desk looked at me uncomprehendingly when I tried to explain that I had been there the night before because I lost my wallet. No English. He went to find someone that could understand me. "Khuti tsuti" (5 minutes), and he raced upstairs. The person sent down to understand me also had a bit of a problem. "Please wait here five minutes." He also raced upstairs and returned with a rather tall, friendly looking man who arrived to state quite bluntly, "Our computers are down. Come back later."

"When?" I asked with a sinking feeling developing in my stomach.

The man turned to the clock behind him (11:20). "After 5 o'clock." Presumably, his shift was over at 5 o'clock.

So what more could I do but leave? By this point I was determined not to let this bother me or my trip. My friend had offered to lend me some money and it was only my first day in Kutaisi. So we went out for the day to see the sights. We returned to the city center around 7 and I had very little desire to spend another night at the police station. We returned to the apartment where we were couchsurfing. I was plenty happy to call my wallet gone for good. The police could not do anything to help, and I doubted they would even try. So why should I dedicate more time to a lost cause?

Around 11 o'clock that night my friend and I were sitting around in our guest bedroom talking, when suddenly we heard the large metal front door creaking open and someone shouting, "Chase?" (the name of our host) We heard Chase come out of his room and say, "You can't just come in, you need to knock before you come in." He said it in a rather even, if slightly irritated, tone. The intrusive speaker, who I would find out later was Chase's landlord, mumbled something of which the only word I could understand was "police." I let out a groan and hauled myself into the living room. The detective from the night before (the one with the gun shoved into his waistband) was standing in the middle of the room, looking like he owned the place- and rightfully so, as his wide girth seemed to make the room look smaller.

"You did not come to the police station today," Chase's landlord said.

"Yes, I did," I stated, without doing much to veil my exasperation. "I came at 11 o'clock. They said their computers were down."

"They need your passport. You must come."

"Now?" I piped in a high pitched tone.

He conversed with the detective in Georgian for a second and responded, "No, you may come tomorrow morning at 11."

"Fine."

They left and the apartment felt bigger again. Safer. I apologized profusely to Chase, whom I had only met the day before and who's kindness I was dependent upon for my housing. My mother has always told me to never trust the police. She was a public defense attorney in one of the roughest neighborhoods in Boston. Her voice was running through my head the entire time I was at the police station. They wanted to know where I was staying in Kutaisi. As I said, I was couchsurfing with this guy. He did not have to let me stay there, and considering that the police barged into his apartment looking for me I'm surprised he didn't kick me out then and there. The police had my phone number. If they really needed to find me they could have easily called me. But instead they walked into someone's house without permission and without even knocking. I realized that I had no choice but to deal with them, no matter how much I just wanted to forget about the whole ordeal.

Once again, at 11 o'clock the next morning I found myself back at the police station. This time their computers were working and the English speaking female detective was there. After having my passport xeroxed and receiving 7 copies of the same piece of paper without any explanation of what these paper were for- they were entirely in Georgian, save my name- I thought I was free to leave. But the female detective asked where my friend and I were going that day. We wanted to go out of town to the Sataplia caves.

"Yes. We will have a police officer drive you," she responded.

"No, no. That is alright. We are going to get a taxi. We do not need a police officer." But there was no point in arguing. We were getting a police officer to drive us. We were also instructed to come back to the police station the next morning, the morning of our departure to Tbilisi, in order to get a ride from the police to the bus station.

We were handed over to a police officer in uniform and a plain clothes detective (with a gun sticking out of his waistband). We got into a large SUV with no sign that it was a police vehicle other than a siren attached to it somewhere (which they used to break up the line at the gas station). The SUV took us to the edge of town where they pulled over to the side of the road next to a waiting taxi. The uniformed officer got out and spoke to the cab driver, then returned to open my door and repeat, "Sataplia, Sataplia." I have no idea why we needed to go so far just to be put into a cab. Maybe it was cheaper away from the city center? Maybe the police officer knew this driver? I have no clue. Due to the language barrier, most of my interactions with the Kutaisi Police Department went unexplained.

The next morning I prepared a note for the English speaking female detective explaining we had left for Tbilisi. My friend and I could not be bothered to go through a whole ordeal of getting a ride from the police again. So I wrote the note in the hopes that the detective was not working and I would be able to escape the city unnoticed. This was the one time I was glad not to find someone who spoke English. I went to the officer at the front desk, handed him the note and said the detective's name. The officer told me she would not be in until 10. I tried to convey that it was okay- "Kargi. Kargi" (Good. Good). He started to get his phone out, clearly with the intent of calling her. And I said, "No, no." and mimed him giving her the letter. Eventually he got it and I left quickly.

I can not help but think that all of my interactions with the police in Kutaisi were so absurd and quite unnecessary. The first night did not need to last as long as it did, and the succeeding days did not really require a daily trip to the police station. Every day I was in Kutaisi I went to the police station once. I'm sure all of this transpired because of two factors- the language barrier and the fact that I am a foreigner. Because of the language barrier everything took longer and there were miscommunications. Because I was a foreigner they were clearly going out of their way for me. I'm sure most Georgians would not go to the police if they lost their wallet, which would probably explain the fact that it took them two hours to get my written statement together. And I know that if a Georgian were in the same position as I had been in, they probably would not offer them rides around town. I don't know if this was the famous Georgian hospitality kicking in, or if their hope was to impress me, but whatever the reason I was disgusted with the whole affair.

Saakashvili considers his reforms of the Georgian police to be his most major achievement. Of his reforms he has said, “Together with you [police officers], we have created one of the most successful, one of the most well-equipped, one of the most efficient police force in the country, where the reputation of police was extremely bad just several years ago.” (Civil Georgia, 'Saakashvili Hails Georgian Police as "Most Efficient,"' 24 June, 2006 <http://www.civil.ge/eng/article.php?id=12906>) I wish I could say I agree with him. It is clear the Saakashvili administration has put a lot of money into the police force, but from my experience this money appears to be going towards making things look nice, but not improving the roots of the problems. Saakashvili claims the police are "well-equipped." I saw only one computer at the station in Kutaisi. Saakashvili says they are efficient. The officer taking my statement did not know what to do- his supervisor had to dictate everything to him, while several other detectives sat around watching television. If I have witnessed the result of years worth of reform, I am truly afraid to think about the state of the Georgian police ten years ago.

Tourist for Hire

I received an interesting phone call today from TLG, the government program that I am working for. They were calling to let me know that they offering an excursion for volunteers this weekend which was leaving from Telavi, the town I live in. Alexander, the friendly Georgian in charge of these excursions, wanted to know if I was interested in joining this all expenses paid, one day excursion. Unfortunately, I had already made plans for the weekend. Alexander seemed a little disappointed, but assured me there was another free excursion next Sunday and he promised to e-mail me the information.

Alexander's call was very informative and I appreciated his effort to inform me of this complementary outing. But at the same time the call reminded me of a telemarketer calling to let me know about a free weekend at a ski resort, if I would only agree to an hour long informational session, or a free lunch for anyone interested in a real deal of a cruise package! But, no. Of course these excursions aren't gimmicks to get me to buy something... Or are they?

The teaching program I'm on is called TLG, Teach and Learn with Georgia. It is run by the Georgian Ministry of Education and its objective is to bring native English speakers into Georgian public schools and teach English alongside a Georgian English teacher. At its heart it is an educational program. But I can't seem to shake this nagging feeling that it is also some greater tourism ploy. And this suspicion is not unfounded. From the outset TLG has strongly encouraged us "volunteers" (because we are technically, legally, and contractually called volunteers, an irony that I will reveal later) to travel around Georgia. Although TLG is an educational program, it is also a cultural interchange program. We live with host families- which, as you may have inferred from my previous blogs, is a whole lot of cultural interchange. As a result of living with host families we get to know the culture of the area we are living in. TLG also encourages us to visit fellow TLG'ers around the country, which offers a chance to learn more about the cultures in different areas; and in a country that's only the size of South Carolina, there are actually significant differences between the regions. (Me? I'm in the region known for its traditional values and aversion to social change. Great.)

It is not surprising that TLG encourages us to travel. Most of us are under 30 and if we're willing to take a job in the tiny, little known country of Georgia than chances are we are a group of people not averse to travel. But what I was surprised by was just how emphatic they are about getting us to travel around the country. In order for TLG "volunteers" to be able to travel around we are actually paid more per month than our Georgian co-teachers. Yes, you read that right. We get paid more than our co- teachers who do this thanklessly day in and day out. And it is not a small difference. Volunteers working for TLG get paid 500 lari after taxes every month. The average Georgian schoolteacher gets paid 100-200 lari per month. This is an awkwardly huge discrepancy that I am often embarrassed of when people ask me what I get paid. And Georgians do ask what we get paid, often. I have met people and within five minutes of being introduced they have asked me what I get paid. The extra salary is not going toward our savings for flights back home, either. TLG pays for our flights to and from Georgia, including summer vacation. During our week-long orientation the TLG staff was quite open about the fact that we get paid this extra amount in order for us to travel around Georgia, and in part to compensate for some of the situations that people might be placed in. In a country where a kilo of fruit or vegetables might cost as little as 3 lari, 500 lari goes a long way.

So why the expense? It's not like the Ministry of Education and Science couldn't use the money somewhere else, like making sure every school has heat and electricity, basic supplies for schools such as chalk and proper chalk boards, repairing the rooms that simply can't be used because the floors have been torn up and the windows have been broken. The list could go on. Perhaps the government hopes that by bringing enough foreigners into this tiny Caucasian country- they're goal is to have 1,000 volunteers by the end of the school year- that word will spread about what a wonderful vacation spot Georgia is. After all, when the program started they placed volunteers in the west of Georgia, on the Black Sea. I don't know how familiar you are with Soviet-era vacation spots, but let's just say Moscow is still green with envy that they don't have easy access to Batumi any more. The program has been moving eastward. My group, which arrived in January was the first to be placed in the Kakheti region, the last region in the east of the country. Despite the fact that the TLG program is being run out of Tbilisi, Georgia's capital and about an hour and a half car ride from Telavi, they started placing people in the west. The west of Georgia not only has beautiful beaches but it is also a lot more socially progressive. And it is in Batumi, the biggest town in the west, that Donald Trump will have another tower in his name. This latest mammoth of gambling and western "culture" (any dictionary with a definition of culture including Donald Trump should be sent back to the editor) is the product of a friendship between Mikheil Saakashvili, the Georgian president, and Donald Trump himself. Clearly, the president has high hopes for Batumi to become the latest summer hot spot.

I might be thinking about this too much, but I simply can't shake the feeling that this is all part of a greater desire by the Georgian government to propel itself back to the "first world" or the "developed world" (which ever term is no longer politically incorrect). I had a conversation with a Georgian man not much older than myself today and he told me that Georgia used to look at countries like India and Pakistan (those were his countries of choice, not mine) and think how nice it was to not be in the third world. But now Georgia is behind. After independence in 1991 Georgia went through a few civil wars, which left a majority of the nation without electricity, even Tbilisi had regulated blackouts at night. This electricity crisis lasted several years. It was probably this period that caused Georgia to slip "out of the top." As other countries in the world were quite literally powering forward- advancing technology, incorporating computers into daily life, developing this little thing called the world wide web- Georgia didn't have any power. And to this day there are stop lights in Telavi that have not worked since Georgia became an independent country. If there are any Georgian political experts in the audience, please correct me if I'm wrong with this theoretical summary of modern Georgian history. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that is is a bad thing for a country to want to improve its status in the world and bring in foreign investments, but I do want them to be up front about it. If I'm being used to promote Georgia, just give me a heads up, and maybe a bumper sticker or something. However, before Georgia uses all of this energy and money, they should sit down with a mirror and see what needs to be fixed internally before they focus on external opinion.

Perhaps the Georgian government hopes that these several hundred volunteers will spread the word about this sleepy little country with high hopes. Perhaps I am simply a pawn, part of some plan thought of during some governmental financial planning meeting. All I know is that no matter what ulterior motives may lie behind my being here, I am here. And I will enjoy my time here while I have it, even if I am playing right into their hands...

We're Off On the Road to Armenia

I went to Armenia for the long weekend, like you do. We had Mother's Day off on March 3 and International Women's Day off on March 8. So, along with 6 other teachers, I took off for Yerevan.
One the way down we took the overnight train. It was a 12 hour excursion. The really odd thing about the train ride was that our entire wagon was packed with fruit. All of the overhead spaces and even under some of the beds was all fruit. I guess that's what third class will get you. Thankfully we went got to the border within the first few hours, although actually getting past the border was a pain. Out of the entire 5 wagon train there were only 10 people who needed Armenian visas- the 7 of us, 2 other TLG teachers we met on the train, and a Japanese guy. I don't think they've ever had to process so many people at once. They crowded us all into this tiny room. Most of them did speak English, though, which was great. And I got another sticker for my passport. Yay!

We got to Yerevan eeeeeeearly in the morning. Well, it was 7, but that feels early after a somewhat cold, bumpy journey. We made it to Envoy Hostel after a long walk because we got off at the wrong metro stop. One of the nice things about traveling in former Soviet satellite states is that you can be in the most yokel of capitals and they'll still have a subway system. But don't let that mislead you- Yerevan is not a yokel capital. Yerevan was definitely farther ahead than Tbilisi. The roads were well paved. The sidewalks were flat and so clean. There were working pedestrian lights at all of the crosswalks.

And the best thing about Yerevan was the sun. Let me tell you about the sun. It was shining. It was bright. And it was warm. Oh God, was it warm. Please don't think I'm crazy for emphasizing that gloriously glowing globe in the sky. Before I went to Yerevan I hadn't seen the sun in two weeks. Two weeks. For two weeks it had been grey cloud-cover for me. While living without the sun I wasn't incredibly depressed like you'd think someone would be. I just got used to the constant grey. But as soon as I saw those bright yellow rays again I realized just how depressing grey can be.  I wanted to put the sun in a jar and take it home with me. All of us were happy to see it. In fact, on several occasions we opted to walk on the wrong side of the street just so we could walk in the sun. We were constantly crossing the street just for a chance to soak in those warm rays. It was glorious. Have I said that enough? Glorious.

But Yerevan doesn't just have the sun. It has other things, too. I was absolutely shocked at the difference between Yerevan and Tbilisi. They're only a couple hundred miles away, probably the distance between Boston and Washington, if not closer. But Yerevan has one glittering thing that Tbilisi seems to be in large demand for: Infrastructure. Yes, that's right, Infrastructure. And yes, I did capitalize it on purpose. Come on, who doesn't think about infrastructure when they're on vacation?

I will admit that I have not stayed an extended period of time in Tbilisi, but I have seen enough of the city to allow me to compare. Tbilisi has one road that is its shining gift to tourists, Rustaveli Street. It's a long boulevard with many shops and it's very well taken care of. However, if you go a block off of Rustaveli, you could be anywhere in Georgia. Well, okay, maybe not anywhere. But the streets immediately surrounding Rustaveli look like some of the slummier parts of Telavi, no question. But all of Yerevan looks like Rustaveli street. All of Yerevan is well maintained and kept clean. I'm talking sidewalks, roads, and even the buildings. Yerevan looks like it could be any city in Europe, not just it's one or two main streets, but the side streets as well. It just boggles the mind how different these two cities are.

Perhaps it isn't fair to compare these two cities. Honestly, I was expecting a city very similar to Tbilisi because their histories seem so similar, or at least, what I know of their two histories. But the primary difference between these two countries- and this is something we heard from more than one Armenian- is the Armenian diaspora all over the world. Every summer people of Armenian descent travel back to Armenia and just pour money into the country. And Georgia just does not have that source of income, which is really a shame.

As a result of this diaspora Aremian seems to be more worldly. I ate at an Irish pub, a Greek gyro fast food place, a baguette type of bistro, and had pad thai at a restaurant that didn't really have any type of "style" or "theme," just a whole lot of different kinds of food.

And it's probably good that Armenia has a lot of other cultures to choose from because Armenian food isn't very good. And Armenian is wine is foul. On a good day it tastes like Minute Maid and vodka. On a bad day it tastes like nail polish remover. And yes, I know this from personal experience. But don't worry, even though they can't do wine or food very well, they still have cognac and a very active nightlife scene.

Yerevan is definitely a young city. We to several bars and there are young people all over the place with different styles and looks. There are the people with leather jackets and sunglasses at night who go to clubs and stay out til 5am (because apparently Yerevan doesn't have a closing time). And then there are people with beards and dreds rockin' the plaid shirt look. I would call them hipsters, but I went to school in New York. I know what true hipsters look like and these people weren't them. I could totally see myself being an expat in Yerevan.

On one day we got out of Yerevan and saw some of the countryside. It was pretty. But also, pretty much like Georgia. Not gonna lie, for all of the differences between the two capitals, Georgia and Armenia look a lot alike when you step outside of the cities. We saw lots of monasteries and churches. In my opinion the best parts of the tour, out of the whole day were the last two places we went. One was a pagan temple in the Hellenic style. One of the kings of Armenia had been decided by the Emperor of the Roman Empire. So he went down to Rome to get crowned. While he was down there he was so impressed by Roman architecture that he wanted some for himself. He built a temple for his summer house and even put a Roman bath next to it. That was the last thing I was expecting to find in Armenia. And the last place we went to was truly awe inspiring. It was a monastery built into the side of a cliff. The acoustics were fantastic! The tour guide told us that sound waves reverberate for 48 seconds in this one room. I wish I knew some opera just so I could start belting out some tunes. It was really great. And in the surrounding cliffs were all sorts of caves. Big ones, small ones. All sorts! Very cool!

So that was Armenia. And here are some pictures for you:

A traditional salt holder, because women give life and salt gives food flavor  (I never got the connection either, but just go with it) 

Here's to acetone wine!! Cheers!

Very cool restaurant with very bad food

Republic Square. Yerevan was big on its public squares and parks.

 

I don't think I will ever be so depleted of energy to need "Spam Energy Drink"

Traditonal Armenian Dancing

The Armenians know how to do nuts.

Map of Yerevan

For the record, Lemon Rent-A-Car is out of business. I wonder why...

I'm not a car expert, but I know this is no Mustang.

Armenian Genocide Memorial

Lake Sevan

Pagan Temple

Roman Baths!

View from the Roman Baths!