Hey everybody,
I'm sure you all know about the stuff going on in Georgia right now. We're safe in Armenia. I have an e-mail with all the gritty details, but I don't want to post it here (other volunteers are having problems with the media taking info off their blogs...and that's totally ar shedzleba (not allowed) So, if you're interested, send me or my mom your e-mail address and promise not to talk to the media.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
"In America, Men Work"
My host mother’s favorite story to tell about me is that on my first day, when I could basically only say 5-10 Georgian words, I recognized and correctly identified a bizhra.
For those that don’t know, (and why should you, really?) a bizhra is a gathering place for men. Basically, they hang out, drink, discuss politics, play cards, etc, on the side of the street. Some bizhras are covered, some aren’t. If you see more than three men standing around, you’ve found a bizhra. The literal meaning, in Russian, is ‘dog house,’ really it needs no explanation. Ironically, or not, there are usually also a number of stray dogs hanging around the bizhra.
In training we’re taught, as women, to stay far, far away from bizhras. When walking by a bizhra, we’re instructed to avoid eye contact and/or speaking to the men. According to our safety and security trainers, like everything in Georiga, bizhras are scary, horrible and to be avoided at all costs.
In all fairness, they’re right. Groups of men in various states of intoxication loitering on the side of the road should generally be avoided. But, in a super small village they’re not really of much concern. Cue my host mother’s laughter when I pointed out the bizhra. I can’t imagine what must have been going through her head. No, actually I can, it was something along the lines of:
“Crazy American, she can’t even figure out how to construct a sentence in Georgian but knows what a bizhra is? What kind of useless crap are they teaching her in class?”
So, if you’re ever in Georgia and recognize a bizhra (and really, you can’t miss them, one is located like every 20 feet) don’t let on until you know the basics of the language. It will save you more than a few awkward moments when your host mom is having a laugh at your expense.
While we’re on the subject of bizhras, as my host mom and I were walking to the store today, past like the fifth bizhra on our way, she asked me if they had them in Chicago. “Uh…ara?” My limited vocabulary kind of prevents me from explaining that no, we don’t have bizhras, but we have bars.
“Uh, ara bizhra Chicagoidan, ara bizhra Amerikeli.” I figured I’d go with the simple nope, no bizhras in Chicago or America in general. My host mom thought about this for a minute and her reply was ridiculously telling. “Oh, ara bizhra…in America men work?”
“Ki.”
Yeah, in Georgia men stand around and drink all day and in America, men work. Of course it’s not so cut and dry, but for the most part that’s how it works. Here it seems like the women do all the work and the men just kind of hang out. This may of course be because I hang out with the women all day. I have no idea what the men do. For the most part, men don’t really talk to me. This includes my host father, who I’ve seen a total of one time and has said a total of 3 words to me.
In other important news, I have kind of mastered the outhouse and there is an extensive explanation of how to shower in Georgia included in my “Georgia” album on facebook.
For those that don’t know, (and why should you, really?) a bizhra is a gathering place for men. Basically, they hang out, drink, discuss politics, play cards, etc, on the side of the street. Some bizhras are covered, some aren’t. If you see more than three men standing around, you’ve found a bizhra. The literal meaning, in Russian, is ‘dog house,’ really it needs no explanation. Ironically, or not, there are usually also a number of stray dogs hanging around the bizhra.
In training we’re taught, as women, to stay far, far away from bizhras. When walking by a bizhra, we’re instructed to avoid eye contact and/or speaking to the men. According to our safety and security trainers, like everything in Georiga, bizhras are scary, horrible and to be avoided at all costs.
In all fairness, they’re right. Groups of men in various states of intoxication loitering on the side of the road should generally be avoided. But, in a super small village they’re not really of much concern. Cue my host mother’s laughter when I pointed out the bizhra. I can’t imagine what must have been going through her head. No, actually I can, it was something along the lines of:
“Crazy American, she can’t even figure out how to construct a sentence in Georgian but knows what a bizhra is? What kind of useless crap are they teaching her in class?”
So, if you’re ever in Georgia and recognize a bizhra (and really, you can’t miss them, one is located like every 20 feet) don’t let on until you know the basics of the language. It will save you more than a few awkward moments when your host mom is having a laugh at your expense.
While we’re on the subject of bizhras, as my host mom and I were walking to the store today, past like the fifth bizhra on our way, she asked me if they had them in Chicago. “Uh…ara?” My limited vocabulary kind of prevents me from explaining that no, we don’t have bizhras, but we have bars.
“Uh, ara bizhra Chicagoidan, ara bizhra Amerikeli.” I figured I’d go with the simple nope, no bizhras in Chicago or America in general. My host mom thought about this for a minute and her reply was ridiculously telling. “Oh, ara bizhra…in America men work?”
“Ki.”
Yeah, in Georgia men stand around and drink all day and in America, men work. Of course it’s not so cut and dry, but for the most part that’s how it works. Here it seems like the women do all the work and the men just kind of hang out. This may of course be because I hang out with the women all day. I have no idea what the men do. For the most part, men don’t really talk to me. This includes my host father, who I’ve seen a total of one time and has said a total of 3 words to me.
In other important news, I have kind of mastered the outhouse and there is an extensive explanation of how to shower in Georgia included in my “Georgia” album on facebook.
Osiauri
It’s about a quarter after nine o’clock on the most surreal day of my entire life. Today we stepped out of the hotels of Tbilisi and the mountain resorts of Baukurani into ‘real’ Georgia. I’m living in a small village outside of Kashuri with a host family for the next 10 weeks.
After driving from Baukurani to Kashuri this afternoon, we were introduced to our host families and left for the countryside. My host mother and a neighbor girl came to pick me up. As soon as we hit the dirt road, I was informed by my host mother that we were now in Osuriari. Yes, the transition from pavement to dirt delineates the entrance to my new village.
My host family’s house is very nice. Especially my bedroom. It has everything I need, with the notable exception of hangers. Upstairs is where I live (I may still be confused about this, but there are three bedrooms on the second floor and I think I might be the only one sleeping up here….my Bebia (grandmother) totally can’t get up the stairs and I don’t think my two little da (sisters) sleep up here either.) The point is, it’s nice. The other important point is that I CAN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.
I’ve been in Georgia for a week now, I think I’ve had a total of 5 hours of Georgian lessons. I can say stuff like “hello” and “goodbye” and even “I am American” but anything more complex than that and I’m totally lost.
This leads to a ton of assumptions and half getting it. Like, I think my dada (mother) does just about everything. She owns a clothing shop, which we visited this evening to close up. She had about 4 items of clothing for sale. One, notably, was a Salvatore Ferragamo knockoff sweater. Pimp, I know. When I somehow got it across that I needed to buy water, we walked to another store and she got water for me and cigarettes for her husband, but didn’t pay. This leads me to believe she also owns this store, but I can’t be sure.
Perhaps most notably, I haven’t figured out how to go to the bathroom. Its outside, I guess it’s an outhouse. I haven’t been brave enough to go investigate. My host family probably thinks that in addition to being crazy, Americans don’t pee. It may be true. We’ll see how long it takes me to get a kidney infection. Honestly, I think I can pretty much deal with anything…the exception being a bathroom that consists of a hole in the ground.
I’ll keep you posted on the situation as it progresses.
After driving from Baukurani to Kashuri this afternoon, we were introduced to our host families and left for the countryside. My host mother and a neighbor girl came to pick me up. As soon as we hit the dirt road, I was informed by my host mother that we were now in Osuriari. Yes, the transition from pavement to dirt delineates the entrance to my new village.
My host family’s house is very nice. Especially my bedroom. It has everything I need, with the notable exception of hangers. Upstairs is where I live (I may still be confused about this, but there are three bedrooms on the second floor and I think I might be the only one sleeping up here….my Bebia (grandmother) totally can’t get up the stairs and I don’t think my two little da (sisters) sleep up here either.) The point is, it’s nice. The other important point is that I CAN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.
I’ve been in Georgia for a week now, I think I’ve had a total of 5 hours of Georgian lessons. I can say stuff like “hello” and “goodbye” and even “I am American” but anything more complex than that and I’m totally lost.
This leads to a ton of assumptions and half getting it. Like, I think my dada (mother) does just about everything. She owns a clothing shop, which we visited this evening to close up. She had about 4 items of clothing for sale. One, notably, was a Salvatore Ferragamo knockoff sweater. Pimp, I know. When I somehow got it across that I needed to buy water, we walked to another store and she got water for me and cigarettes for her husband, but didn’t pay. This leads me to believe she also owns this store, but I can’t be sure.
Perhaps most notably, I haven’t figured out how to go to the bathroom. Its outside, I guess it’s an outhouse. I haven’t been brave enough to go investigate. My host family probably thinks that in addition to being crazy, Americans don’t pee. It may be true. We’ll see how long it takes me to get a kidney infection. Honestly, I think I can pretty much deal with anything…the exception being a bathroom that consists of a hole in the ground.
I’ll keep you posted on the situation as it progresses.
A Picture Interlude
I have no idea how to format any of this, but here are some pictures. The city pictures are Tbilisi and the mountain-y pictures are Baukuriani, a Georgian ski resort a few hours outside Tbilisi.The picture below, of people, happens to be of my host mother, Gulo and host sisters, Russo and Mari. The picture to the right of my host family is of Osiauri, my training village, as is the picture of the church below.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tbilisi
There is an old adage in foreign policy circles that goes something to the effect of “there aren’t wars between two countries with Mc Donalds’. It seems there are at least 50 Mc Donalds’ in Tbilisi and I’m pretty sure Moscow is stocked with them as well. So, if you’ve been worried about Russian aggression towards Georgia, you can stop. There are just too many Mickey-D’s here for war.
Speaking of things American and war-like, our first dinner in Tbilisi was at the same restaurant George W. Bush ate at when he visited Georgia. There is a picture of him on the wall and a street now named after him. He called the country a “beacon of democracy.” As such, the government here is extremely pro-American and, here’s a fun fact: after the U.S. and the UK, Georgia has by far the most troops in Iraq.
As an aside, I’m not sure how political I can get on this blog. I’m pretty sure what I’ve been speaking of so far is just factual, but if this entry happens to be removed in the next week, we’ll both know why.
Getting back to forbidden politics, if you’re at all interested in the Russian ‘situation,’ apparently much of it stems from the strong U.S.-Georgian relationship. Georgia sits in an extremely desirable geo-political position in light of all the oil coming from the Caspian. Right now all that oil travels through Russia. With improved infrastructure (and no doubt U.S. backing) a large amount of that oil can be re-routed, taking Russia out of the picture entirely. It’s obviously more complicated than my brief explanation, but you can do your own research if you’re really that interested. I’m not even interested enough to delve that deep into it. I subscribe to a different theory. There is a rumor that Putin’s old mistress was married to a Georgian and she broke off the affair with Putin to go back to her husband. This, of course, resulting in a hatred for all things Georgia. Also, secretly, Putin’s mother may have been Georgian. And this shame has led to a dislike of the Georgian people.
I’m choosing to believe the fun theories, because I don’t get a subscription to US Weekly and Putin’s Oedipus complex is the best I can do.
So, as we’ve established, Georgian’s love Americans…and we’re being treated pretty fantastically here…at least now. Apparently the squat toilets and bucket baths come next week. We stayed in an amazing hotel in Tbilisi with lots of hot water, electricity and spotty wireless internet. We’re most definitely living the good life. Now we’re in a ski resort town about three hours outside of Tbilisi in a big lodge-like hotel with amenities like mini-bars (which unfortunately the P.C. does not cover) and Georgian fashion magazines. We’re resorting for three days until we leave to move in with our first host families.
Most of Tbilisi, let alone the outer towns and villages, isn’t living like we are. For a capital city Tbilisi is honestly kind of run down and dirty. It’s a very odd juxtaposition. Like, they have designer stores (most notably to the men’s designer fans) there is a Boss store and a Zegna (and not the Z or the Sport, the good stuff). There’s a D&G and Dior here, people. Yet, there are also children begging in the streets and feral dogs running wild across the street. A few streets over from the nice stores and the opera house there are buildings that have more than likely been bombed. They have all these fantastic statues and monuments surrounded by shanty-ish stores. It’s hard to wrap your head around. Overall, my review, after being in country for less than a week is that you come to Georgia for the scenery, the nature and the hospitality…not cosmopolitan conspicuous consumption.
We’ll see how my opinion on this changes after a month or two of bucket baths.
Oh, and a special note to my mother: thanks for the silent ‘h’ in my name that has confused people all of my life. I have to officially drop it here. One of the letters in the Georgian alphabet is the English equivalent to “gh” it’s a deep guttural guuuuhhh. If I use that letter in Georgian, my name becomes Meguuuhhhani. Ew. No thanks. If I were to just use the regular G letter followed by the regular H letter I would basically confuse everybody I came into contact with. The silent H just isn’t done here, Mom. I can’t believe you didn’t anticipate this being a problem.
So, I’m now Megani. Awesome, I know.
Speaking of things American and war-like, our first dinner in Tbilisi was at the same restaurant George W. Bush ate at when he visited Georgia. There is a picture of him on the wall and a street now named after him. He called the country a “beacon of democracy.” As such, the government here is extremely pro-American and, here’s a fun fact: after the U.S. and the UK, Georgia has by far the most troops in Iraq.
As an aside, I’m not sure how political I can get on this blog. I’m pretty sure what I’ve been speaking of so far is just factual, but if this entry happens to be removed in the next week, we’ll both know why.
Getting back to forbidden politics, if you’re at all interested in the Russian ‘situation,’ apparently much of it stems from the strong U.S.-Georgian relationship. Georgia sits in an extremely desirable geo-political position in light of all the oil coming from the Caspian. Right now all that oil travels through Russia. With improved infrastructure (and no doubt U.S. backing) a large amount of that oil can be re-routed, taking Russia out of the picture entirely. It’s obviously more complicated than my brief explanation, but you can do your own research if you’re really that interested. I’m not even interested enough to delve that deep into it. I subscribe to a different theory. There is a rumor that Putin’s old mistress was married to a Georgian and she broke off the affair with Putin to go back to her husband. This, of course, resulting in a hatred for all things Georgia. Also, secretly, Putin’s mother may have been Georgian. And this shame has led to a dislike of the Georgian people.
I’m choosing to believe the fun theories, because I don’t get a subscription to US Weekly and Putin’s Oedipus complex is the best I can do.
So, as we’ve established, Georgian’s love Americans…and we’re being treated pretty fantastically here…at least now. Apparently the squat toilets and bucket baths come next week. We stayed in an amazing hotel in Tbilisi with lots of hot water, electricity and spotty wireless internet. We’re most definitely living the good life. Now we’re in a ski resort town about three hours outside of Tbilisi in a big lodge-like hotel with amenities like mini-bars (which unfortunately the P.C. does not cover) and Georgian fashion magazines. We’re resorting for three days until we leave to move in with our first host families.
Most of Tbilisi, let alone the outer towns and villages, isn’t living like we are. For a capital city Tbilisi is honestly kind of run down and dirty. It’s a very odd juxtaposition. Like, they have designer stores (most notably to the men’s designer fans) there is a Boss store and a Zegna (and not the Z or the Sport, the good stuff). There’s a D&G and Dior here, people. Yet, there are also children begging in the streets and feral dogs running wild across the street. A few streets over from the nice stores and the opera house there are buildings that have more than likely been bombed. They have all these fantastic statues and monuments surrounded by shanty-ish stores. It’s hard to wrap your head around. Overall, my review, after being in country for less than a week is that you come to Georgia for the scenery, the nature and the hospitality…not cosmopolitan conspicuous consumption.
We’ll see how my opinion on this changes after a month or two of bucket baths.
Oh, and a special note to my mother: thanks for the silent ‘h’ in my name that has confused people all of my life. I have to officially drop it here. One of the letters in the Georgian alphabet is the English equivalent to “gh” it’s a deep guttural guuuuhhh. If I use that letter in Georgian, my name becomes Meguuuhhhani. Ew. No thanks. If I were to just use the regular G letter followed by the regular H letter I would basically confuse everybody I came into contact with. The silent H just isn’t done here, Mom. I can’t believe you didn’t anticipate this being a problem.
So, I’m now Megani. Awesome, I know.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
In the Begining
Ok, I have no idea how to set up this blog business. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to have some kind of disclaimer noting that the content of this blog does not represent the views of the U.S. government. So, until I figure out how to do that, keep in mind that I do not represent the views of the U.S. government.
So, with that out of the way....
I'm at JFK airport right now. I've been in Philadelphia staging for the past few days. For those of you not down with the Peace Corps lingo, staging is like our pre-pre-pre orientation. We play games and learn about rules. The highlight, however, was being shown around by my dear friend Alicia, who lives in Philly. She was gracious enough to take me to the best cheesesteak stand in the world (or so they claim...I've only experienced the one, so who knows). It was good?
As I mentioned, I'm at JFK right now, waiting for my flight to Istanbul. From Istanbul we ('we' being the 55 other PCV going to Georgia as well) fly to Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. We're going to stay in Tbilisi for a few days and then leave for another city where we'll spend another few days in pre-pre training. Then we're divided into smaller groups, of five or so, and placed in a village for pre-service training. We'll be at this site for the first three months, before we're placed in our permanent sites, where we'll stay for the remainder of our service.
So, that's really all the big news. I'll work on collecting some good anecdotes, as I'm sure an outline of my travel plans isn't exactly riveting reading. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed that I find a Brooks Brother's outlet in Tbilisi.
The real explanation:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Fleece
My love of all things waspy:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooks_Brothers
So, with that out of the way....
I'm at JFK airport right now. I've been in Philadelphia staging for the past few days. For those of you not down with the Peace Corps lingo, staging is like our pre-pre-pre orientation. We play games and learn about rules. The highlight, however, was being shown around by my dear friend Alicia, who lives in Philly. She was gracious enough to take me to the best cheesesteak stand in the world (or so they claim...I've only experienced the one, so who knows). It was good?
As I mentioned, I'm at JFK right now, waiting for my flight to Istanbul. From Istanbul we ('we' being the 55 other PCV going to Georgia as well) fly to Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. We're going to stay in Tbilisi for a few days and then leave for another city where we'll spend another few days in pre-pre training. Then we're divided into smaller groups, of five or so, and placed in a village for pre-service training. We'll be at this site for the first three months, before we're placed in our permanent sites, where we'll stay for the remainder of our service.
So, that's really all the big news. I'll work on collecting some good anecdotes, as I'm sure an outline of my travel plans isn't exactly riveting reading. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed that I find a Brooks Brother's outlet in Tbilisi.
The real explanation:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Fleece
My love of all things waspy:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooks_Brothers
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