Papa Dato // მამა კარლო

My host Grandfather is a funny man. Let's call him Dato. Dato works at the Village cemetery cutting gravestones, hardly ever speaks, has a permanent endearing scowl on his face, carries his shotgun with him on a regular basis, and eats whole chickens for lunch. I told my neighbor once that I really like Dato (which is true) even though we never speak to each other. She, of course, translated this immediately into Georgian for him, and he responded by giving me a quick nod and a half-smile through his lit cigarette. Other than that, our interactions are limited to my waving and smiling when I see him at work, and exchanging hello’s and how-are-you’s. A few nights ago, however, Dato came home drunk. He was singing something in Georgian. He sat down on the couch next to me and gave me a hug, then babbled in Georgian for a while before his wife convinced him to switch to Russian. It was patchy, but our conversation went something like this:

- Dato, where were you?

- I was in town with my friends!

- In Samtredia? (The city close to our village)

- Yeah! Samtredia! Listen, Sarah, when do you leave Georgia?

- June.

- Eh? July?

- …Actually, June.

- Ok, July. When you leave in July, I will give you a gift. It will be a giant Khantsi (animal’s horn) filled with Tcha-Tcha (homemade vodka). I want to give this to you. A really big one, not empty, but full. Full of tcha-tcha. Do you want some tcha-tcha now? Just a little?

- No, Dato, not right now. Thanks, though.

- Tomorrow?

- Sure, Dato. Tomorrow.

- Sarah, good girl. You are my child --- Ok? I never had a daughter. I have sons. One son, and another son, and you will be my first daughter. For my wife too, you are her daughter. We will come to America, and we will live in one house. We will have one house in America, and another house in Georgia!

- Good idea, Dato. Let’s do it.

- Ok. I will wait for you to get my visa, and then I will come to America. My daughter, Sarah!

- Sounds like a plan.

- Uuuuggghhh…

- Dato, does your head hurt?

- Huh? Yeah…. My head hurts… Time to lie down.

- Ok. Time for bed. Goodnight, Papa Dato.

- Goodnight, my daughter Sarah!

The next morning everything was back to normal. I jokingly called him Papa Dato and got the same half-smile as he scratched his head and lit his morning cig. If I ever have the means to make it happen, this whole family is coming home with me to America. Especially Papa Dato.

Lots of Love to my real Dad-o, and everyone else on the other side of the world,

Sarah

Questions for Americans

It’s been three weeks, and I’ve met quite a few new people since my arrival in the village. Most of them are incredibly generous and welcoming, even though I’m not the greatest company since I can’t speak much Georgian. However, I always enjoy their company -- and their food, I’m not gonna lie. Except for the severed pig’s head that my host grandmother once shoved in my face (while opening the mouth like a puppet and making squealing sounds) the food is awesome.

But I talk about food enough as it is --- This particular post is inspired by the informal interview I always get when meeting new people, while we wait for the food to hit the table. I always get the same questions: “You’re from America? What city? What state?” (puzzled faces --- Austin Minnesota is unfamiliar) “…ok, you’re a good girl. How old are you? 22? You’re so young! Do you like Georgia? Georgian food? Good girl. Are you married? No? Do you want a Georgian husband? We’ll find you a Georgian husband. You’re a good girl, a very good girl.”

Aside from that, when people in my village find out that I speak Russian they usually make an awkward attempt at translating some simple Georgian into broken Russian, which is either barely understandable or completely incomprehensible. Luckily the simple Georgian is easy for me, since I’ve been asked the same questions so many times I have them memorized.

Other notable questions: “What is your profession?” (Which I never know how to answer... Am I a teacher?) “Have you ever been to Miami?” (Because apparently everyone wants to go there) “How much do you get paid?” (Which is awkward, because I make more than twice the amount that my co-teachers make) and, my personal favorite, “Have you ever met Lady Gaga?” (Which more than one person has asked me, in connection with the statement “Lady Gaga is a man”).


More news later, most likely about all the free time I have and the silly things I find to spend it on. Georgia is great.

Love,
Sarah

Observations

Just a few things I've taken note of so far while living in the Village:

Drinking out of Cups: In every house (and in all the classrooms at school) there is a tray somewhere holding a jug of water and a few glasses. At my house, for example, there are two glasses on the tray although I live with a family of 5. We never wash these cups. Germs? Whatever.

Хлеб --- всему голова: Bread is a staple of every meal here in the village. It’s not as if you take a piece of bread to nibble on with your main dish, it’s more like “Here’s your meal of bread, supplemented by cheese, and maybe a few different things to dip it in. We seriously go through about three loaves of bread a day. On the upside, my bebia (host grandmother) makes it from scratch and bakes it in the woodstove --- and it is DELICIOUS.

Lenin-y Fresh: Our family keeps a spare copy of Lenin’s memoirs in the door of the outhouse. At first I thought it was for light reading, but the other day we ran out of toilet paper and I realized that everyone just tears the pages out when need be (or, you know, whenever you’re feeling particularly sassy).

Keep it real, Georgia.

Sarah

Kai Gogo! // კაი გოგო!

So, I happen to be living in a village where there has been one previous volunteer. Let’s call her “Tatiana.” From the first day I arrived, no one would let me forget that Tatiana was the original foreign celebrity, and everyone knew and loved her. “Do you eat meat? Tatiana was a vegetarian.” “How long will you stay? Tatiana was here for three months.” And the most common and repeated phrase: “Tatiana --- Kai gogo!” (Tatiana is a good girl!) usually supplemented by “…Oh, you can be a kai gogo too, Sarah.”

Now, after a few days, I began to realize that practically EVERYONE is a kai gogo. All the women I meet are introduced the same way: “Sarah, meet Nana --- Kai gogo.” “Have you met Natia? Natia is a kai gogo.” And now I’VE had to get used to being referred to as a kai gogo whenever I do anything remotely pleasant (like hold a door for someone), or say anything in Georgian (even “ki,” which just means “yes”). But I still had this nagging association with Tatiana, because she was, of course, the original kai gogo. How could I live up to those standards? I felt intimidated, to say the least.

Which is why today was so great: I sat down with my host mom to an afternoon meal, prepared by chopping a whole fish into fist-sized pieces, frying them with the skin and bones still on, and then letting them chill to just below room temperature. Not really my cup of tea, but I tried it for my host mom. It wasn’t as bad as it looked, and after I ate a few bites, I got a “kai gogo” from her. Then she gives me a spiel in Georgian and I hear the name “Tatiana” again. I look up and ask:

“Ra? Tatiana?” (What? Tatiana?)
“Ho, Tatiana, Skolashi, Mastsavlebeli --- Tsudi gogo.” (Yes, Tatiana, at the school, the teacher --- BAD GIRL.)

I was shocked! Tatiana is the kai gogo, right? I ask again:

“TSUDI gogo??? Ratom?” (Bad girl? Why?)
“Saatchmeli, ara. Vegetariani. Tsudi gogo.” (Food --- she didn’t eat anything. Vegetarian. Bad girl.)
“Ho?” (yeah?)
“Ho. Da bane ara --- no wash! Tsudi, tsudi gogo.” (Yeah. And she didn’t shower. Bad, bad girl.)

To this I just made a funny squinched up face, and a mental note to up my hygiene regimen. Feeling a bit more better about myself, I changed the subject by explaining that I wasn’t drinking coffee because I had burned the roof of my mouth the day before (which I expressed by looking up the word “burn” in the English-Georgian dictionary, miming the word for “yesterday,” saying “soup,” and pointing to the roof of my mouth). We laughed, and I got another “kai gogo.” I love my host mom. I love being the kai gogo.

Happy Valentine's Day,
Sarah

Kutaisi Weekend and Sunday Church

Sunday February 12th

This weekend I made it to Kutaisi, the old Capital in Western Georgia, to meet up with some other TLG friends. There was some confusion in the process… My English-speaking neighbor had told me that my host mother would accompany me to Samtredia (the city near our village) to explain how to get on the marshutka (mini-bus) to Kutaisi. In retrospect, this wouldn’t have worked well anyway since my host mother doesn’t speak English or Russian, but in the confusion we established that I would go with my English-speaking neighbor instead. I was half an hour late at this point, but I finally got on my minibus to Kutaisi. Of course, it broke down half-way and we all had to get out and wait for another minibus, but I made it to Kutaisi in one piece and met all my friends at (where else?) McDonalds. From there we explored the city on foot.




Kutaisi is a BEAUTIFUL city with a giant blue-green river running through the center and market stalls everywhere you turn. We wandered around the city for the day, but the best part was when we went back to our hostel --- the home of an elderly Georgian couple who treated us to lots of homemade wine, cha-cha (moonshine), Lobio (beans), lots of fresh greens and salads, homemade cheese, yogurt and jam, and just about anything else you can think of that is Georgian and Delicious. They spoke great Russian so we talked all evening, I translated all of the toasts to our health and our families, our youth and our beauty, etc. We went through all the Georgian drinking traditions, including Kh’antsi (drinking out of horns, like from bulls and rams). The man of the house is crazy talented when it comes to drinking, toasting, and dancing.


Today I went to Church with my host mom, which was a great (although very cold) experience. Hopefully I’ll get the chance to go again and start to understand more of what is happening, but as it is we mostly just stand around and everyone does their own thing --- reading prayers, lighting candles, singing along with the cantors, or walking back and forth to different icons to kiss them and pray. Cool stuff. Can’t take pictures, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

Until next time!
Sarah

Snowball fights and Bonding with Koka

Thursday February 9^th

Yesterday was the first day of school for me, but after two classes of random wandering around an unorganized classroom they decided to cancel school for the rest of the week because it was snowing. I also found out that our director left the school, and we are now in the process of finding a new one… I guess.

In the meantime, we decided to start a HUGE snowball fight in the wooded yard next to the school, build a snowman, and oh yeah, my host dad (like everyone else in the village) goes hunting all the time, and I shot a GUN for the first time in my life (Well, sort of. I held it while someone else supported me and pulled the trigger for me. Scared the CRAP out of me.) We also took a ton of pictures and video of the whole thing. It was awesome.

Today I’ve just been chilling at my place, practicing English/Georgian with Koka, playing make-believe with Koka, watching Peter-Pan with Koka, and eating Batibuti (popcorn) with Koka. He tells people that he loves me, which is super cool. I feel like a fun American sister.

Lots more to write about, Keep checking back for more news, and I'll keep trying to work though my internet issues!

Love,

Sarah

There are 9 cows in my Village

Yesterday I arrived in Nabak’evi, a beautiful village just out of Samtredia in Imereti, Georgia. I met my Host “Mother” at the hotel in Tbilisi and we took a 3 hour Marshutka (Van) ride to Western Georgia. She is ADORABLE and she doesn’t speak English OR Russian, which means I spend a lot of time brushing up on my Georgian. I am getting a Georgian-English dictionary tomorrow, which will help a lot…


I live in an average Georgian Family --- Grandparents, parents, and a 6-year-old host brother who is literally the cutest, funniest kid I have ever met. His name is Koka, he loves to dance and sing, and he helps me learn Georgian. Today we practiced counting to Ten, had a photoshoot with my camera, and watched Bruce Willis on TV. Looooove this kid.


If there’s one thing that I’m concerned about, it’s that I have eaten almost nothing besides Khachipurri (cheesy-bread) since I got here… I’ve also had bulki (sweet bread), noodles with butter and sugar, pakhlava (like baklava, but thicker and chocolatey), Pelamushi (wine jello), potato-rice-mayonnaise salad, fried chicken, and lots of tea with lemon (kumquat???) in it. A lot of sweets, fats, and carbs --- but at least with the citrus I might avoid scurvy!

Going on a walk to see the village tomorrow, will bring back pictures (although my internet is really terrible, so you might have to wait to get them. Sorry!)

Loooove,
Sarah

p.s. --- School just got cancelled for the whole week because it snowed this morning. What to do now? More news later!

Ex-pats, Russian, and Cheesy Bread.

Hello all! Guess what I've been doing for the past week? ...Living in TBILISI! Actually, I've been living in a hotel in Tbilisi, sitting through a lot of orientation meetings and learning as much Georgian Language as possible. BUT I've managed to make it out during our evenings off and have had the following memorable experiences:

1. Meeting up with an American friend of a relation living in the city, going out for a brief tour and a lovely dinner of Georgian food: Khinkali (Giant hand-held dumplings), Pkhali (spinach and walnut paté), and Khachipurri (Cheesy bread with an egg cracked on top)!


2. Speaking Russian! I knew that Georgia's second language was Russian during the Soviet Union, but I wasn't sure how my speaking Russian would be received... Our orientation made me feel as though my Russian might be useless here, but then I tried it out on some folks in the city. A woman at a cigarette counter, a taxi driver named Artur who gave us clementines and his phone number in case we wanted a taxi tour of the city, and some clerks and hotel staff who seem to have a good control over the language even though they are younger. The taxi driver was my favorite, he was sassy as I'll get out.


3. Placement! I just found out (literally, just now) where I'll be living and what my host family stuation. So, I'll be in a village in Imereti region (midwestern Georgia) where they have the best khachipurri (the cheesy bread, remember? YEAH). My family description says "Private house with Mother and Father, daughter and two children. Outdoor toilet, bathroom inside, no internet." I'm hoping that the outdoor toilet is a Turkish toilet. They're better for you, I swear. Ergonomic poops.


So, now that I know I won't have internet for a while, I'll try to write another post before I leave the hotel on Monday. Otherwise, this might be the last one for a while.... I'll try to figure something out. Peace, friends!

Love,
Sarah