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.
Kate, I tried to leave a very clever comment to this last week, but Google wouldn't verify my WordPress ID. It still won't, so this is a test. In the meantime, I've forgotten my terribly clever comment.
ReplyDeleteOkay, the Google-based comment took. I wonder if following this blog twice is somehow causing a conflict? Anyway...enjoyed the post. {still trying to remember my other comment: it might have had something to do with one of the few Polish phrases I know--courtesy of Dan's godmother--being an insult involving the head of a pig.}
ReplyDeleteAhhhh, I've forgotten how much I enjoy your writing!
ReplyDeleteSo even though the house is big, you all stay in the same room? Is that for the sake of fun or warmth? Do any of the adults work outside the home? Who plays piano? And do they play duets with the 2 pianos?