Stage Two

Oh, Kristen. It finally happened. I'd been waiting for this, eyes closed, cringing, ducking for cover - stage two of culture shock.

I've been (mostly) needlessly grumpy for almost a week now, sleeping poorly, dragging myself to work, not wanting to leave the apartment or explore the city. Everything - from grocery shopping to being a pedestrian to the way Georgians get off the Metro escalators (for the record - like cold molasses) - is stressing me out and causing me to lose my temper. To quote the repository of all human knowledge, "Language barriers, stark differences in public hygiene, traffic safety, food accessibility and quality may heighten the sense of disconnection from the surroundings". Not to mention the heat and humidity are wearing me down, making me feel fatigued, ugly, messy and generally worthless. I am so tired of sweating through the same six items of clothing every week.

I forced myself out of the house today and wandered aimlessly around Marjanishvili square (which, unbeknownst to me, is under major, dusty, confusing construction). It was unpleasant. I popped into a clothing store, where a sales lady said to me, "We have your size! Big size!" (sidebar: Sigh.) I tried on a pair of navy trousers that fit nicely and were pretty cool - unfortunately they were 120GEL (72CAD). Now I understand why my fashionable Georgian peers order online from Forever 21, Next, H&M and the like, and have their purchases shipped from the Western world via a middleman; selection is poor here and prices are ridiculous.

Speaking of fashion, here's something that absolutely delights me. Harem pants are all the rage among Georgian women. Not horrible drop-crotch, MC Hammer harem pants - tailored, slim-cut, incredibly stylish harem pants. Like these:

I want some.

That said, I know one of two things will happen if I make this dream come true:
1. I will try on a pair of harem pants, see how terrible they look on me, and be cured.
2. I will buy a pair of harem pants, celebrate that I finally have something to wear in the heat, and autumn will arrive the second I step out of the store. (I actually hope this one works out, because I am desperate for fall and will even resort to ironic trickery to get it).

Speaking of dreams, I had one that I moved into an apartment with you, Kristen. My room was huge and airy and fully-furnished in a wonderfully feminine, rustic-chic style. It had a big, soft bed and lots of storage space and a TV. Clearly, being a couch squatter is getting to me. Word on the street is that I have a host family here in Tbilisi, but they're renovating so who knows when I can move in. (I also had a dream that a McDonald's opened up within walking distance of my parents' house, and a dream about Ron Swanson. None of my dreams require much interpretation).

There are also rumours going around that I'll be staying at the Ministry for the rest of my contract (which would make sense if they're moving me into a home in Tbilisi). I heard about this from my assistant, who knows all. I, on the other hand, know nothing.