Big Fat Easter Post

It took me three hours to get back to my house once I arrived in my village after my week off. Why? My neighbors practically attacked me on the short dirt road to my house. I was hugged, kissed, and fed to no end, although at each  house I kept saying “I can only stay for a moment, I have to go home!” When I finally made it to my front gate, my host brother and I literally ran at one another screaming and then jumped into each other’s arms. If we had kissed each other’s cheeks any more, I’m pretty sure our faces would have fallen off. It’s good to be home.

I purposefully came home early so that I could be in Georgia for Orthodox Easter. It really begins on Good Friday (Red Friday, in Georgia) with egg-dying (which I missed). Eggs are only dyed red, no other colors allowed or considered, and cannot be broken and eaten until Easter Sunday. On Saturday night we went to the Easter Vigil service at the Orthodox church in my village --- There were so many people that not even half of us could fit inside the building. Service began at 11pm and went on until after 1am, all the while we chanted “Kristi Aghzdga” (Christ is Risen) and responded with a much longer version that is too hard for me to remember, but means “He is truly Risen.”

 

Easter Sunday was celebrated with lots of dancing, eating, and drinking which began early in the day. I was woken up at 9am by my host mother and brother saying “Kristi Aghzdga” and handing me an egg, which I had to use to try and break the shell of another egg. We did this many times throughout the day, and if an egg went through many matches without being broken it was a “Magarii Khvertsi” (good egg) and most often stolen by my brother Koka. He also had a trick egg that was actually made of wood, and he managed to break my Magarii Khvertsi before I realized his tom-foolery. At 9am we packed up some food, wine, eggs, and Paska (special Easter cake/bread that looks pretty but I’m not especially fond of) and went to the cemetery. It is Georgian tradition to gather in the cemetery near the graves of relatives and friends, drink to their memory, and pour them a little wine as well --- It was literally poured onto their graves so that they could celebrate as well. Later on we went back home where we had another feast, much more wine, and therefore much more dancing.

The next day, Easter Monday, I was again woken up early by the sound of Georgian music and laughter from my family. Breakfast was Easter cake and Easter eggs, and although we had plans to visit my host mother’s parents in town, the weather was too beautiful to be bothered about going anywhere. We sat outside all day, kept on dancing, and then decided to fire up the Toneh: A traditional Georgian oven, basically a cylinder of 10-inch-thick cement. It is heated by a fire in the center, and once the fire burns down the coals are covered by bricks to keep everything toasty. Then globs of sticky bread dough are pasted onto the sides of the oven, fighting gravity as they are baked on both sides from the hot cement wall of the Toneh and the brick-covered coals in the center. I got to make one myself, and I’m proud to say it looked better than my host mother’s attempt (we’re both amateurs --- my host dad’s cousin is the pro). When they were done we had a feast of hot bread (called Lavash or Shoti’s Purri), fresh onions and herbs from our garden, and home-made Georgian cheese. Commence more wine-drinking and Georgian dancing.

Little did I know, Easter is a continuous thing here in Georgia, and a week later was "Old Easter." My neighbors and I made a special cake called "Pakhlava" (not to be confused with Baklava, which is totally different but equally delicious). The next day was the Easter Pageant at school, which meant lots of decorating, long rehearsals, and a beautiful performance pulled off by some of my students. Here are a group of my 2-5th graders:

After the pageant was the Supra: My host mother is very proud of this one. She organized the whole thing, we had TONS (probably literally) of food, I heard several different songs all entitled "Sakartvelo" ("Georgia") and we partied in the school until late at night. There were many toasts made from a severed soda bottle since there were no rams horns available, I showed off my Georgian speaking and dancing skills, and I met a Canadian and his Georgian wife who were visiting their family in the village for Easter. Hurray for English speaking!

Til next time,

Sarah

Batumi No-Reading Photo Post

Batumi is in south-western Georgia, right on the coast of the Black Sea. I like it there. Here are the groodest pics:




Easter is next!

So much love,
Sarah

Problem Yok (No Problem)!

Here's a nice day-by-day outline of my Turkey, just in case you're tired of reading about Georgia. Hope you enjoyed the call to prayer in the last post (I didn't take it for the visual, but the audio --- just fyi).


Day 1: Monday morning we left from Batumi to the border crossing at Sarpi (Thank goodness I just happened to save a $20 bill in my wallet, because I needed it for my visa). From there we made our way to Trabzon with no maps, no plan, and an incorrect phone number for the place we were staying. I only know a few words in Turkish, but with them we were able to find directions to the place we were staying. Cut to us completely exhausted and sweaty from climbing endless hills, ordering Turkish pizza (lahmacun), and passing out before 10pm. We were woken up early by the call to prayer which sounds five times a day from every mosque in the city --- B-E-A-utiful.

Day 2: Still map-less, we decided to explore the city on foot. We asked passers-by what direction the center was in, and each one told us to take a mini-bus (dolmush) but we hoofed it instead. It was about 4 kilometers away, but at the time it was fun! The city is practically made of hills, so we got lots of exercise as well as some awesome views of the city. We met a shopkeeper who spoke Russian and invited us to sit for tea --- This is when I noticed that there are men carrying tea-trays all over the city, going to and from shops and restaurants delivering cups of Turkish tea. From the market we got directions to the Hagia Sophia (not the big one in Istanbul, but the baby one modeled after the big one in Istanbul) and walked all the way there as well (What’s another few kilometers?). We made it home before it started to rain too much, and I got an impromptu percussion lesson from our host… I’m not very good at it (Surprise!)

Day 3: Field trips. We reserved this day to explore some sites outside of the city of Trabzon. First we hit Sumela, which is a beautiful ancient monastery tucked into the side of a mountain. We got a ride most of the way up, but then hiked back down ourselves (my legs are still refusing to forgive me for that one). We also found a nice waterfall, so we followed that up as far as it was climbable and had a nice sit. We met a Turkish couple touring the Black Sea coast, and they offered to take us with them to Uzungol, a natural lake in a mountain valley. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like a good lake. Water, shore, rocks, all that jazz. It’s the best place in Turkey, everyone should go (wink, wink) …Actually, we spent about ten minutes there, laughed a lot, skipped some rocks, and then decided to head back. We had a nice car ride, though, joking about how exciting Uzungol is.

Day 4: Tired from the day before, we slept in and decided to take it easy. After a brunch of Turkish kebap and ayran (a salty yogurt drink) we made it to the view-point of Trabzon called Boztepe. We drank tea from Samover, which is a giant silver hot-water heater with a place to put a small pot of very concentrated tea. We drank tea and enjoyed the view, did some more walking through the city and the market, and sat on the beach. P.S. I saw a Dolphin in the wild for the first time in my life, I’m pretty sure I screamed. It was awesome. That night we had what our host calls R&B: Raki Balik. Raki is the Turkish national drink: Anise flavored alcohol that turns white when you mix it with water. Balik means fish, which we got fresh from the sea-side fish market and then grilled over hot coals on the balcony. Throw in some Turkish music, that drum that I can’t play, and a few more Turks and you get a pretty good party. We sang a LOT --- Turkish people love singing as much as I love listening to them sing.

Day 5: Although we planned on leaving early, we were pretty beat and slept in again. I made American breakfast (eggs, toast, hashbrowns and ketchup) and we sat around for a while before heading back to Batumi. A successful trip, some new stamps in my passport, and minimal sunburn.

…AND my travel-buddy and I didn’t even strangle each other.

Back in Georgia now, Happy Orthodox Easter!

Love,
Sarah

Turkey is nice.

Oh, hey guys, I'm in Turkey, more news later.

Stalin was a Handsome Devil

Hello, all! Georgia is still treating me wonderfully, and I’m trying to take as many pictures and keep in touch with everyone as much as possible (Sorry for the lack of emailing/facebooking/skyping, it’s just that those applications tend to use more internet than I usually have access to.)

I just hit the half-way mark for my stay in Georgia. Whenever I hit this point I have the same paradoxical thoughts of “Haven’t I lived here, like, forever?” and “Didn’t I just get here, like, yesterday?” Not to be discouraged by the fact that I only have two months left in this wonderful place, I packed my bags and went to Gori for the weekend.

I arrived in Gori by train, which was an adventure in itself. Not only did I get to admire the beautiful mountain scenery as we crossed half the country, I also sat next to a nice family with an 8-year-old daughter who practiced her English with me for a good part of the 4 1/2-hour ride. Her parents bought me a khachapurri and we talked about the challenges of language barriers in the classroom (while we struggled with a language barrier ourselves).

Gori is the hometown of Stalin (Did you know he was Georgian?) and the center of the city was actually build around the house he was born in. Behind the house is a huge museum of Stalin’s life, which opened while he was still alive, and almost makes you admire the guy. Joking aside, I learned a lot and it was more interesting than I expected. Also, have you seen any pictures of Stalin when he was young? He was dangerously good looking. Here's his house:

Some other highlights of the trip were climbing to the fortress on the edge of town, eating ice-cream on the city catwalk, meeting a bunch of other TLG teachers, and going to the circus! I haven’t been to a circus since I was five, and since we made friends with one of the acrobats we were given free front-row seats and popcorn. I bought myself a cotton-candy to complete the experience and thoroughly enjoyed the show --- especially the looks on the children’s faces as they stared up at the acrobats.

On my way to Turkey next week --- Take care, I love you all!

Sarah

March Review

March was a good month, although I realize that a lot of this month's review is just weird... But these are the things that have stuck out the most this month, so I'll leave it as is. Enjoy!

- March 3^rd is Georgian Mother’s day, although I didn’t really know what that at the time. All I knew was that my host grandfather brought us champagne, cakes of all sorts, and some bad bread (which my host mother and grandmother commented on multiple times, saying “what bad bread, this is so bad…”). This is also when I found out that I am the only family member that will drink champagne.

- Why does my host grandmother love the smell of nail polish?

- We do everything in the main room, except for sleeping and full-on bathing, since it’s the only warm room in the house. That means changing clothes by the pechi (wood-stove), naps on the couch, half-baths from a wash basin, face-shaving, toenail-clipping, and in the case of my awesome host grandfather, trimming your body hair at the table. My personal bubble is on vacation.

- One day, my host grandmother decided to make pirozhki with NADUGHI (whey?) inside them... BEST EVER. From my count, my host grandfather ate at least ten pirozhki the size of my forearm. I love him.

- I am starting to miss comfortable seating and indoor plumbing.

- I cannot for the life of me learn all of my student’s names. Some of the names I’ve had down since the beginning --- Most of the boys are named Giorgi or Dato, and the girls are called Tamuna, Ekka, Nino, or Shorena. It’s just that sometimes I ask “What’s your name?” and the response sounds like a car backfiring. I'm making progress deciphering them, however slowly. I recently mastered the name “Irakli.”

- I am considering adding Georgian to the list of languages I speak. It's kind of funny that I can have a decent polite conversation with just about anyone even though I only know a few verbs (to be, to go, to come, to like, to love, to work, to do, to want.)

- The Georgian words I know the best are the ones I hear the most at home: “Moitsa” (Wait!) “Kido/Kideh” (More!/Again!) “Gacherdi” (Stop it!) “Tkiva” (That hurts!) “Cheitsue” (Get dressed!) “Raiya akhla” (What is it now?!) and “Ra ginda” (What do you want?!) ...Did I mention I live with a six-year-old boy?

Love from Georgia,

Sarah

Georgian Foods I Love:

For those of you who are interested, here is the food post, as promised!

1. Lobio ლობიო: Just means “beans,” but the dish is a delicious combination of all kinds of beans, onions, and spices that is delicious on bread, especially with pickles and cheese.
2. Lobiani ლობიანი – a giant, flat croissant filled with with lobio, mmmmm.
3. Khachapurri ხაჩაპური – Round, flat bread filled with a very salty Georgian cheese (maybe the best thing I’ve eaten EVER)
4. Pelamushi ფელამუში– The Georgian take on Jello – made from mashed grapes and some kind of cereal into a paste that stiffens to jello-jiggler likeness, albeit lilac-colored and opaque. Topped with crushed walnuts, omg yum…
5. Churchkhella ჭურჩხელა(sp?) – Nuts (hazelnuts or walnuts usually) on a string, dipped in the pelamushi fruit paste and then dried to fruit-leather consistency. It looks like a bumpy candle, but is actually a giant fruit-snack with nuts in the middle.
6. Khenkali ხენკალი --- A boiled dumpling the size of your fist with a doughy stem so that you can eat it with your hands. Filled with meat and spices, which create a delicious broth inside the dumpling that you are supposed to drink before it spills onto your plate. Cover them in pepper, and leave the ends on your plate to keep count of how many you’ve managed to eat. It usually turns into a contest --- my record is eight.
7. Nadughi ნადუღი --- I’m not positive on what this is in English, but I think it might be “whey,” like, from the Little Miss Muffet rhyme where she eats her curds and whey. When my host grandmother makes cheese, I think this I the leftover deliciousness that I put on bread and eat with my morning tea.
8. Quince Kompot --- What on earth is a quince? I have no idea, but it’s delicious and my host mom makes fruit-juice out of it with whole quinces in the bottom of your mug to eat as you please.