Eshli once again

Hi gang.

I realize it's been a while. In my defense, I spent a month in Canada on vacation, and there is nothing less motivating than being on vacation. My greatest source of stress was fighting with my brother over who got to borrow my mom's car. That, and failing to knock off my entire vacation To Do list (I never do - but then again, perhaps "Watch the entirety of The West Wing" was a little ambitious).

What went undocumented on this blog were the two weeks prior to my vacation, a whirlwind of exams, marking, parties, goodbyes, and setting up my next term. If I recall correctly, this was also the time of the Tbilisi International Film Festival, where I saw an excellent German film with a cop-out ending (The Day I Was Not Born), a Georgian documentary that failed to live up to its potential (Generation of Tomorrow), and Cary Fukunaga's Jane Eyre (FASSBENDER!). That fortnight also saw my installation as the new copy editor of The Messenger, Tbilisi's only English-language daily. I start on Sunday, and with any luck jet lag won't impair my mental faculties. Speaking of jet lag, I can't remember half of the interesting stuff I intended to write about. So here's some filler:

Things that have changed in Tbilisi in the month I was away:
- McDonald's Value Menu items now cost 1.90GEL, up from 1.80GEL
- The 105 marshutka has been upgraded to yellow vans with Metromoney card readers. I almost missed  it yesterday because I was looking for an old, beat-up, white Mercedes. One of my friends theorized that this slow roll-out of upgrades is heralding the ultimate piece of marshutka technology - a goddamn route map. I'd call that naive, but hey, Google Maps came to Georgia last fall so clearly anything is possible
- There are new signs in some Metro stations, with bus routes and notable nearby sights. One of them listed a "trade centre" near Station Square. It took me nearly ten seconds to realize this was Georgian-to-English translation for "shopping mall". A month in Canada has made my mind slow; next thing I know I'll be saying things like, "Well, it's reasonable to assume..." (Reason and assumptions are not to be relied upon in Georgia)

Things I forgot about:
- Smoking indoors
- The absurd speed of drivers here (see also, their ability to chat up a girl on their cell phone, while using the other hand to steer, honk, signal, switch gears and adjust the radio. True story).
- A lack of personal bubbles in public
- What it's like to be stared at unashamedly
- The way people go out of their way to help you (a special thanks to the teenage boy who carried my luggage up two flights to my apartment without my asking; also, the taxi driver who hailed me a new taxi when he realized he didn't actually know where he was going, then didn't ask me for any extra money)
- Enrique Iglesias

Borjomi, Batumi, let's call the whole thing off!

My god, Kristen, WHERE TO BEGIN???

Last weekend was completely insane. A few of my friends planned a trip to Borjomi, a city known for its mineral water (a.k.a. Georgian hangover cure). We left Tbilisi early Saturday morning, and took a 2GEL, 4 hour, Soviet train ride that had a blog post's worth of stories (horrifying toilets, Japanese-style door rushing, old women selling tchotches, a creepy guy in a leisure suit hitting on us, a sweet young man giving us fruit, and on and on).

So, we arrive in Borjomi, walk around, see some sights, take a cable car ride, eat well for practically no money - then I get a phone call.

"The President invites you to attend the opera with him in Batumi - tomorrow."

Being the awesome people that they are, my friends offer to cover my exam on Monday and rush me to the marshutka (mini-bus) station to catch the last ride back to Tbilisi. We're on our way back to the guest house when, one by one, everyone else starts getting the call...

So the next thing we know we're practically flying back to Tbilisi in this marshuka, frantically planning opera-appropriate dress, shoes, hair and make-up, and calling host families and co-workers in an effort to cover classes and arrange our quick turn-around back out of the city.

The next day almost 100 teachers (including people who had just arrived in the country!) are packed onto two coaches and we head off on the world's longest bus ride to Batumi, on the Black Sea. (Another blog post's worth of stories - scenery, feasts, no time to get opera-appropriate, etc).

The opera we were seeing was "Keto da Kote", a sort of Georgian Romeo and Juliet, but much shorter and with a happy ending. The music was fantastic, but I hated the costumes. (Sidebar: Georgia produces a disproportionate number of excellent opera singers, as well as wrestlers).

MORE IMPORTANTLY, I sat in the front row and a mere four rows behind me, and to the left, was Misha! And Prince Albert of Monaco! I didn't turn my flash on so all the photos I took of them are terrible! GAH!

After such an exciting evening, I retired to my room, crawled into Pillow Mountain (it was an excellent hotel), and slept better than I have in weeks. The next morning I went for a stroll, swam in the Black Sea, played "Is that a jellyfish or is that a plastic bag?", ate an incredible breakfast, and saw one of the opera singers from the night before. Everyone was in an excellent mood, even in the face of another seven hour bus ride back to Tbilisi (yes, we probably spent more time on the bus than we did in Batumi).

The entire weekend had ups and downs perfectly representative of life in Georgia - lack of planning, little attention to deadlines, and cultural frustrations mixed with once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, incredible generosity, and utter contentment. The only real disappointment was not being able to meet Misha; giving into my friends' dare to say, "I love what you've done with the place", and getting a facebook profile-worthy photo together (either with finger guns or thumbs-up, I haven't decided yet).

(As proof of my adventure, please see me on Georgian TV here, and check out my facebook album here)

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In other news, I'm finally finished my classes and exams. I don't have my new schedule (although there's a rumor - there's always a rumor in this country - that my new classes begin Monday or Tuesday). I will be taking my current students (at least, the ones who passed the exams) up to the next level of instruction. I'm really excited about that, especially for my pre-intermediates, as they are all delights and conversations with them are usually entertaining, informative and a little ridiculous. I can't even begin to describe the romantic, political, tragicomic and amusing mini-essays they wrote for me.  

*  *  *

Speaking of students, a guy I had never seen before showed up to take the exams yesterday. He liked to joke around, and we had our fun, but during his speaking exam this happened:

Me: What do you like to do in your free time?

Him: Well, I'm gay, so I hang out with my boys.

My brain: Horseshit. If this guy were actually gay there's no way he'd be so casual and open about it. But wait... being gay is really tough in Georgia, even in Tbilisi. If I laugh and call him out, I might betray his trust and hurt a young man who's just looking for an ally. 

My face: *poker*

Of course, mere seconds after I finish his exam my assistant, Magda, drops by. I say, "GUESS WHAT!?!?" but of course she already knows, because Magda knows all. She confirmed that the student was totally screwing with me, but my sensitive little North American heart stopped me from reacting appropriately. Oh, culture clash!

*  *  *

One last thing (although there are more blog posts to come this week) - I've created a Georgia Wish List page. I'll be adding to it as time goes on, and crossing out items once they are accomplished. I'll also try to link to the blog entry that discusses their accomplishment. 

All the news that's fit to blog

Kristen,

I've been hoarding news. I don't have a lot of news, but I was waiting for most of it to come together so that I could write a blog post that was more than, "I think this might happen... or that... but I'm not sure when". (Those have been the answers to most questions posed to me about my future).

So it's official - I'm staying at the Ministry for the remainder of my contract. I'm conducting final exams this week, and then I'll have new classes. Ideally I'll be able to take the classes I have now and move with them up to the next level, but nothing has been decided so far. My Pre-Intermediates are especially keen on continuing with the program, as completion of the next level comes with a certificate. Also, they claim to like me - probably because I give them as much sass as they give me.

I've also been asked by three people to be their personal tutor. Two of them I know from my classes and they're very sweet, wonderful women who are enthusiastic and hard-working. They want to focus on  conversation, so I hope our sessions will also include some cross-cultural exchange!

Speaking of cultural exchange, I finally moved in with a host family. They're an incredibly nice couple in their thirties with a 14-month-old daughter whose favourite things are laughing and running around. It's a little jarring to be out of the comfort zone of the American teachers I lived with, their apartment, their neighbourhood, and all that independence. But - true story - I've introduced myself to more than one person who exclaimed, "Oh, you're Squatter Ashley, aren't you?". So yeah, I needed a home.

Besides having a permanent home - and a room to myself, and a bed, and places to put my stuff - one of the advantages of a host family is being able to watch Georgian TV. My host father and I watch the news, and he explains the gist of the stories to me. The past two nights, the news was mostly whatever Misha did that day (kiss babies, deliver speeches in tight jeans, get mauled by star-struck Georgians), and a good 10 minutes on the fact that John Malkovich was in town, as a member of the theatre festival's jury. Who says you have to be at TIFF to see all the celebrities?

Also on the news was a story about the first day of school (inexplicably, today, a Thursday). The other members of my orientation group are now getting a taste of karma - after spending the past month on vacation (spectacular, life-changing, unforgettable vacation, sigh) they're now starting work in public schools across the country. So far I've heard that a kid tried to set something on fire in class. My students may give me sass, but they never start fires.

Speaking of my students, let's discuss a major cultural issue for English teachers here - cheating. Or rather, what we perceive, culturally, as cheating, but what Georgians see as "helping". During tests, students regularly ask questions of their peers, show each other their tests, work on problems together, etc. In the school systems that we English teachers come from, that's cheating. That's SUPER CHEATING, actually. But not here. It's normal. It's just helping. How no one has figured out that all they're doing is unknowingly sharing the wrong answers is beyond me. Marking tests gets really boring when everyone is making the same mistakes, down to the spelling errors. But what am I supposed to do? They're not children, the grades don't really matter, and they're there by choice. I certainly can't turn to a class full of police officers, counter-intelligence types and heads of divisions and say, "Now Georgians, everything you think about helping is wrong; please change immediately, you silly foreigners."

This cheating vs. helping dilemma created an interesting little bit of cultural sleight-of-hand performed by my awesome Georgian assistant and I. We decided it would be best if she not be in the room for the exams, because she would be harassed by the students for both translations and answers. As these people are her colleagues, she couldn't just say no to them - socially, this would be unacceptable and may come back to haunt her if she needs something from them in the future, i.e. "You didn't help me then, why should I help you now?". So I played the mean teacher and "banned" her from the exams. If asked, she could shrug and say, "I'd love to be there, but Ashley said no..."

(I admit, I kinda loved being that mean teacher... even though I'm absolutely no good at it).

The good, the bad, and Misha

Kristen,

I apologize for all the heavy, reflective claptrap of the last two entries. Let's have some fun, yes?

First, a list of things about Georgia I find baffling:

• Although Georgians are far from the worst drivers I've seen, they still have some habits that make Western passengers blanch. They drive fast, sure, and don't stop for pedestrians, whatever. But they also change lanes like madmen and often drive on dividing lines when they have room to do so. Georgians aren't much for lining up on or off the road, and this manifests itself in drivers following the lane lines between two other cars - because hey, there's room, so why not use that space to pass?
• I understand and accept that I look very not Georgian, but it's still difficult to get used to being stared at. My assistant/class translator says that people in Tbilisi have grown accustomed to foreigners so it's not such a big deal to them anymore. Yet whenever I go out I feel like I have an arse for a face.
• The food is very good... but very salty. There's some kind of special Georgian salt (more of a browny-green colour than table salt, and a larger grain) that is very intense and savoury. I don't care for it... and may come home with the blood pressure of a 50-year-old man.
• Being on time is a foreign concept (although that is changing). I haven't gotten used to this, and so am my usual punctual self - which results in a lot of waiting. I don't do well with tardiness or with waiting. More ways I need to relax, and adapt!
• They call pop "limonati", even if it's not lemon-flavoured. (I'd say, on the absurdity scale, this is on par with those Southern U.S. states that call everything fizzy "coke").

Things I love about Georgia:

• I've mentioned this before, but the hospitality and care of friends and strangers blows me away. They will literally give you the shirt off their back. There's no stranger danger here - they are living embodiments of the aphorism, "A stranger is just a friend you haven't met". I'm so grateful for this every day (and not just because I usually have no idea what I'm doing).
• The escalators in the Tbilisi metro go really, really fast (I suspect because the stations are really, really deep). Also, the subway car doors open before the train comes to a complete stop. This is especially refreshing when compared to the D.C. metro, which has a pause of approximately a millennia between the train stopping and the door opening. The Tbilisi metro is also more reliable than the D.C. metro, even though it hasn't appeared to have been updated since the Soviets built it in the 1960s. I hate the D.C. metro.
• The water is fantastic. I live in a crumbling old Soviet apartment but can simply open the tap, fill a glass, and drink heartily. It doesn't taste weird and it hasn't affected my digestive system. Georgian spring water is bottled and sold in the region, so if you're in the neighbourhood I recommend it!
• You can see the country developing before your eyes. Alongside evidence of 70 years of Soviet rule, a devastating civil war, a revolution, and a recent spanking by Russia, there are modern buildings, public art, revamped institutions, happy people, new investment, rampant enthusiasm for life, and an increasingly loud civil society. The entire country seems to be trying its hardest to modernize and globalize - and wants the world world to notice. It's an incredible atmosphere to live in.
• More than one Georgian has told me about the dramatic change in the police force. After the 2003 revolution, the new government fired the entire police force, changed its culture and mandate, brought on foreign consultants, and radically altered the public perception of its officers. Where once policemen and women were not to be trusted, victimizing innocent civilians through "fines" (forced bribes) and in bed with criminals, patrol officers are now the second most trusted figures in Georgia (second only to the patriarch, the head of the Georgian Orthodox Church). Georgian children want to grow up to be police officers, and Georgians themselves no longer fear calling the police if they need help. It's heartening, and admirable.
• The fact that I've found myself getting a little protective and emotional over the country and its people. The South Ossetian War was a mere three years ago, and thinking about the people I know being put in harm's way, being afraid, evacuating, hearing rumors of an invasion of Tbilisi... it upsets me. It upset me too, in a very surprising way, to discover that one of my favourite students used to be in the Soviet army. The thought of him being the "enemy" during the Cold War, of men like him potentially being at the forefront of another world war... I don't know if there's a word for the feelings it brought up in me. Maybe there isn't one in English - is there a word for fearing something that could have happened, but didn't, while simultaneously understanding the smallness of the world and the oneness of humanity? 

Ack, sorry, I promised fun, not deep thoughts. Here's one last thing that absolutely delights me:

This is Mikheil "Misha" Saakashvili, current President of Georgia and leader of the 2003 revolution. He's a very theatrical figure, and there are a stack of amusing anecdotes about his antics. (There are also a stack of not-so-amusing criticisms of his abuse of government power in the name of the revolution, and hypocrisy when it comes to current Georgian opposition protests. But I digress.) 

Anyway, this video is of a press conference he held in October, to promote the seaside city of Batumi as an alternative to other Black Sea resorts. He had just completed a 3.5km swim in the sea (alongside the mayor of Tbilisi and an old man in a woman's bathing cap), and so popped out of the water clad only in his bathing suit (to compete with Putin, one imagines), whipped out an iPad, and started comparing the weather of rival resorts to that of Batumi, emphasizing that the humidity is lower there and that in Georgia you can swim from May to November, and even head into the mountains later that same day for some skiing. 

He did all this while heroically sucking it in. What a boss.