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

Ho Hum

I found an article from the New York Times Travel section that is the closest representation I've found to my life in Georgia. Read it here. (The caveat being that is was written in 2006, which is practically a lifetime ago in post-Revolution Georgia).

I was going to write something about how I haven't been doing anything exciting lately, so have nothing to share with you on my blog. But that undermines the honesty and purpose of keeping this blog - I have a job, and a routine, but those things exist in Georgia - and so the mundane is just as important as the spectacular when it comes to explaining myself.

So here's some of the mundane:

I experienced a couple of blackouts this week, which is unusual in Tbilisi (or, unusual in the central, important parts of the city - no offense Avchala!). If I still had a Twitter account, I would have tweeted: "Blackouts in Tbilisi. What is this, 1994? #tasteless #postrevolutionentitlementsyndrome"

Also, if I still had a Twitter account, I would tweet at Joss Whedon and ask him why he's thanked in the Acknowledgments section of my Cutting Edge Starter textbooks. That's an out-of-left-field mystery if I ever encountered one.

I had a disastrous Tuesday, that culminated in a hat trick of Tbilisi nonsense - not being able to find a specific store because of a lack of street signs, building numbers, and a strong enough command of Georgian; having to cancel dinner plans because the restaurant we had planned to eat at was shuttered, all online evidence to the contrary; and a taxi driver who ignored my directions and took me to where he thought I wanted to go, as opposed to where I explicitly told him to go. I've decided that if most cabs weren't stick shift, I'd just tell the drivers to get in the backseat because three months of living in this city has given me a better understanding of its geography than their qualifications (being Georgian, having a car).

It's possible that there is video of me shooting a modified M-4 on Georgian reality TV. There's a reality show being shot at the police academy, and they were filming some scenes in the firearms training simulator when a few of us teachers dropped by to check it out. Hopefully they won't use the footage of me because the "Hollywood" group is so much more attractive and melodramatic.

I found a fruit that looks like a lime on the outside and a tangerine on the inside, that's wonderfully bold and tart, and that makes the perfect addition to a gin and tonic.

...and now I have to catch the Metro, to go to tutoring, because that's Friday night in Tibs, homes.

Driven to distraction

Kristen,

I am alive, and so is this blog, I promise. I have had a week that defies description, swinging wildly from spectacular highs to devastating lows. There really is no such thing as a "normal" day in this country.

To summarize: I've been sick, dealing with a multitude of work problems, shooting Glocks and crappy Croatian knockoffs at the police academy, goofing off on the Russian border, spending three days in the mountains, taking midnight trips to Turkish outhouses, starting a new job, arranging my five (5!!) tutoring subjects, yelling at my superiors, neglecting my host family, mooching off American generousity, making new friends, seeing Saakashvili for a third time, and crushing on a Georgian spy. If I had internet at home, I might have been able to update you on this cryptic list in real time.

I have lots of photos to upload and stories to tell, and once I have time to sit in a wifi-enabled cafe for a few hours I'll share everything. (Well, maybe not everything - I don't want to incriminate myself).

At this very moment, I am without my laptop so I'm in an dark and musty internet cafe, surrounded by what a former co-worker who lived in the Ukraine described as "pubescent boy-scum playing violent RPGs and looking at soft-core porn". You nailed it, Joyce.

*  *  *

[NB: If you are my mother, please do not read this next section.]

My host father has driven me to work twice now. The first time, I got in the back seat and started to put on my seatbelt. "No, no, no," he said. "Is no problem!" while giving me a "Why are you being ridiculous?" face. I was in a bad mood that morning, so I declined to get into the "In my culture, we always wear our seatbelts" insult-fest. (In Georgia, it's sometimes considered an insult to wear a seatbelt, as if you don't trust the ability of your driver. I feel like the parent of a teenager in these instances: "It's not that I don't trust you, it's everybody else on the road I don't trust!").

So this morning I get in the car again, and don't bother reaching for my seatbelt (it was my host father who was in a bit of a mood today). He had just received a call that he had to be at work ASAP and so all his Georgian stunt driving skills were being put into play. He was speeding, of course, but he also did a move that I almost admire - instead of stopping behind a line of cars at a red light, he drives in the opposing lane and skirts in front of them when the light changes. He did this today before the light even turned green. 

So of course I surreptitiously reach for my seatbelt and start casually sliding under it. That's when I realize there is a belt but not a buckle. There's nowhere to stick the male end, essentially. (This is not the first time this has happened to me). I can't explain it, though. I don't think the fine people at Toyota or Nissan or Opel build cars with only the belt and not the buckle. Someone in Georgia is removing half the pieces. I can only do now what I did this morning: resigned sigh.

My host father also has a corporate car; by which I mean he has a silver KIA hatchback with the police academy logo on the side. Wocka wocka.

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.