So We Had A Little Aftershock

Most importantly: I have not figured out what I'm doing about the Super Bowl, but I will watch it somehow. I must.

First off, I'm not actually in Zugdidi. I'm in Zugdidi District (similar to a county), but about 10 km south of the city itself in a village called TsaPPishi. (Sometimes transliterated as "CaiPPshi", just as "Tsar" is sometimes "Czar".) According to a rough translation of the Georgian Wikipedia article on TsaiPPshi, the town has about 2200 residents. From my observation, it has a similar number of cows and probably 6 times as many chickens. It is most famous for its resort status during Soviet times, when apparatchik from all over the USSR would come here for TsaiPPshi's baths. Those baths were a result of the natural hot springs that send very hot sulfur water out of the ground.

I have yet to acquire a proper Empty Bottle to make full use of the Hot Spring Water

I do not have internet at my house, so blog posts will likely be a weekly thing at most. Kate does, though, so hopefully she will update you on the embarrassing situations I find myself in. She is a ways from me, in Zugdidi proper. This is not ideal, nor is it what we asked for from the program, but, to paraphrase one modern philosopher-singer, we are where we are.

The 7-hour marshutka trip taught me that my observation of Georgian driving was somewhat unfair. There is a system - most roads are three lane roads. One lane goes one way, the opposite lane goes the other, and the middle lane straddles the center line and can go either way at any time. On the plus side, seatbelt use is far more common than we'd been told during our training.

That trip was capped off with a lovely welcome dinner (at 11 pm) from my host family, their neighbors, and fellow teachers at my school. My host brother Imedi is 15 and speaks some English. His father and I generally communicate in my broken Georgian and broken Russian, while his sister (12) doesn't seem to want to speak to me, even though I know she's taking English at school. They are farmers, raising chickens and pigs and growing mandarins, kiwis, and a variety of other fruits in their extensive backyard. It is a change for me from everywhere I've ever lived, that's for sure. They are wonderful people though, and have been excellent hosts, even when communication between us is difficult.

I've wandered a bit around TsaiPPshi, seeing the hot springs, the River Jumi that runs through town, and the hill behind the house that provides an outstanding view of the Svaneti range of the north Caucasus. The town is easy to spot from the road, as a giant Georgian flag on a giant Georgian flagpole dominates a hill outside my window. Assuming the flagpole isn't brand new, it has seen 3 flags in my lifetime. The Soviet flag that flew there until 1991. A new Georgian flag came about after Communism, and lasted until 2003. When the old regime fell in that fall's Rose Revolution, the old flag was deemed too controversial and was replaced by the current one, which is based on an old flag of an independent Georgia.

New Georgia flag

Former Georgia flag

Aside from my phrasebook, mentioned below, my host family has an English-Georgian dictionary that they've used to help them with their homework. It has some peculiarities, as it was written in 1974. It therefore contains translation of such commonly used phrases as "class struggle", "petty bourgeoisie", "Leninist", and "dictatorship of the proletariat".

Next up: Teaching!

Stats:
1 - signs saying "Happy Journey" while leaving Tbilisi. My guess is someone translated the Georgian into English as "Bon Voyage", and then someone else, believing that to be French (technically, they were right), translated that to "Happy Journey."
3 - seemingly wild horses that ran across the highway in front of our marshutka just outside TsaiPPshi at 9 at night. This was one of many events that caused the driver to make the sign of the cross on the window, but by far the closest call.

Georgian:
marshutka - "minibus" used as the most common form of mass transit. A Russian loan word (originally Marshrutka)
jgiro - "goodbye" in Maghreli.
puri - bread
kargi/kargad - good/well
capitalisti - capitalist (Note: I do not know how to translate "capitalist lackey")

Phrases the authors thought were important to include in my Georgian-English phrase book.
-"How can we protest against (something)?"
-"Are you a believer?"
And, lifted in order from the book:
"Let me buy you a drink."
"Why are you laughing?"
"Is my Georgian that bad?"
"Shall we go somewhere quieter?"
"Leave me alone, please!"

I finally found the part of the pig I don’t like.

On any given day since I've been here, 6 or 7 neighbors or relatives (I’m not sure where the line is that separates the two) have popped their heads into the house, and proceeded to hang out for a few hours. Two such neighbors are of ambiguous “old age” dressed entirely in black with head scarves. They love it when I mispronounce Georgian words and clap, laugh and kiss me when I do. These two ladies usually show up as a pair and bring some sort of home-made delicatessen with them. Today they brought what can only be described as head cheese if it were left out in the sun through nuclear holocaust. It looked like organs suspended in aspic and tasted just about the same. Now, you all know my fondness for everything pig so you can fully appreciate the gravitas of this moment: It was disgusting. What I thought would be gelatinous had the texture of bone meal. There were things floating in there that I didn’t even know pigs had. But under the eager eyes of our neighbor, I ate one big fork full and said yes to seconds.

But as they say, things can’t be all entrails and gelatin! After a few confusing days here of attempting to adjust to a culture completely different than I’ve ever encountered (more on that later, I’m sure) I’m slowly getting into the swing of things. My family is accommodating and I enjoy their company. I live with grandma Madonna, Lela the mom, Lasha the dad, Chako and Giorgi—two sons. We spend the entire day while not at school in one room around a wood burning stove. I have a huge house. It has wireless internet (most of the time), a grand and normal size piano, 4 chickens, and a big enough storage of “chacha” to sterilize an entire hospital. (Much more on that later!)

Georgian seems much less scary as a language than it did a week ago. I am fumbling my way through conversation at home much aided by the fact that both the mom and son, Georgi, are in English school. I have most of the alphabet down, but I still fumble my way through every word. It will take a lot of practice. Now that I am more settled I hope to update with more frequency. So look forward to a pig, found.

My most controversial post yet!

Well, I made it to Tbilisi. Our flight from JFK went through Poland, however, allowing us a 13 hour layover in Warsaw. We made the most of it. Well, we napped for a bit, but then made the most of it.

Warsaw was 38 degrees and rainy the whole time we were there, making for some miserable weather conditions. The city itself was worth checking out. Much of the architecture hailed from Soviet times (most of the pre-Soviet buildings didn't make it through WWII), including the Palace of Culture and Science, a 42-story building that's the tallest in the country. It was a gift from Stalin's USSR to the people of Poland. I'm sure Poland asked for a gift receipt so they could return it in for something they really wanted, likely involving the Soviets leaving them alone. Alas, the Soviets had a strict "No returns; also, you are under arrest" policy. It's now a museum that dominates the landscape in downtown Warsaw, and still features a statue of a man holding a book with the names of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and a conspicuous space where Stalin's name was plastered over.

In Soviet Union, gift returns you! (to the gulag)

 Much of the rest of Warsaw is very modern, looking as if it was built in the last 10 years. This includes the Warsaw Uprising Museum, a very worthwhile museum about the Polish Home Army in World War II. It is full of first hand accounts of the uprising and the unfortunate aftermath of the war.

After Warsaw, on to Tbilisi! We arrived at 5 in the morning on Sunday. Georgia so far has consisted of a hotel in Tbilisi that has played host to our Georgian language classes (there are different letters for sounds transliterated in our alphabet as "K", "Q", "KH", and "QKH"), orientation meetings, and general Georgian cultural training (do not toast with beer, and don't worry too much about being on time - except at school. Apparently, Georgians use the expression "GMT" to mean "Georgia Maybe Time".)

People in Georgia consider their countrymen poor drivers, at least to American eyes. (This is, of course, a gross generalization. It's akin to someone saying "Wisconsinites generally own a cow or two.") The main thoroughfares are wide, but traffic moves at a good pace. Sometimes, this good pace is not enough for people, and I've seen (and heard about) vans and taxis beeping at someone going too slowly, then cutting into the oncoming lane or the center line to pass them. The use of seatbelts has only been a common thing in the last year, and many cab and van drivers are apparently offended if you put a seatbelt on. I will do it anyway.

Also, drivers are predominantly male. There's no law against women driving, it just doesn't seem very common.

Such driving is moderately unacceptable

I look forward to posting in two months about the imperialistic American generalizations I made in the text above, and how ashamed I am of them.

Today I head to the city where I'll be for the next 5 months - Zugdidi, in Samegrelo region. That's in the northwest of the country, and for those family members who may be worried, is nowhere near Chechnya or Dagestan or North/South Ossetia or Ingushetia. It doesn't border Russia at all! (It does, however, border Abkhazia, but I am not too worried about this.) Don't know where in town I'll be teaching yet, and I think I get to have some say in what grades. Kate is in Zugdidi as well.

Some stats for you:
11 - Nationalities I've counted in the teaching group (American, Canadian, English, Scottish, Irish, Australian, Argentine, Polish, Mexican, South African, Italian). The Italians will be doing Italian language classes in Georgia. Georgian reminds me a lot of Italian.
1 - Main thoroughfares from the Tbilisi airport named "George W. Bush Street"

Georgian language info:
dila mshvidobitsa - Good morning!
gamarjobat - Hello
nakhvamdis - Goodbye
diakh or ki - Yes
ara - No

The vowels all have the same sounds as Spanish. There are no capital letters in Georgian.

The Packers also head to Georgia this weekend

Tomorrow, Kate and I head to Georgia for five months of English teaching. I don't know where in the country I'll be yet, or what level of students I'll be teaching, but I'm excited to get started. I should be touching down in Tbilisi around the time the Packers game kicks off in the US.

Nope

Yes

I did a blog when I studied abroad in Ireland four years ago, so I thought I'd do another one this time. Hopefully it will be wittier than the last one. It will likely involve repetitive jokes.

But first, a 13 hour layover in Warsaw this Saturday.