Tuesday, July 31, 2012

July 24th Black Sea trip, Batumi fun, Mtiarla


The trip to the Black Sea was with my host sister Shorena and her friends. We took the Marshutka to Chakvi, a resort town on the coast two miles from Gorgadzeebi. We met up with my other sister, Khatuna and her friends. The beaches are much more rocky and gravely than California's sandy beaches, but the water is so much warmer! You can actually stand to be in it for as long as you want! The sea water is more saline than the Pacific Ocean, you can almost float in it. Of course, I had to bring a book, just to spite my girlfriend's brother Brian who doesn't understand why anyone would read during vacation.

I met more of Shorena's teenager girlfriends a nearby house. They were asking me if I was single, and if I had a girlfriend, I felt like an adonis, or would have, but my stomach was hurting from drinking the water. I could hardly stand at times; Montezuma's revenge exists, even in Georgia. Its not that the water is bad, its that the things living in all water are new to your body. Once exposed, you build a tolerance. Even so, it was miserable, but how else will one get used to the water?

That evening, we met up with the rest of the family in Romani's taxi and we drove to Batumi to pick up my host mother Naira. Afterword's we walked around downtown Batumi, taking some great pictures of the promenades and fountains, as well as catching a show of a fire-breather. We were there for approximately an hour or two. Batumi is a resort/vacation town that is booming during the summer and dormant during the winter. New skyscrapers and hotels have sprung up in the past few years, yet the old city remains underneath. The architecture remind me of New Orleans in a way, where as the new resorts and casinos look and feel like Las Vegas. I need to see more of this city, go to an opera or see some Georgian dancing, two hours aren't enough. The transportation in Georgia is much easier, thanks to Marshutkas, so transportation won't be a problem.

Later on we all went to pick up my host brother, Levani. He is a sailor who works machinery, and lives in an apartment south of Batumi. On our way back I was really hurting from the water. Naira commanded us to stop at a pharmacy and they got some medicine, which cleared things up the next day. My vigor has returned, thank you Naira!

Black sea coast

Surprise, my camera is waterproof! Its fun to see the look on peoples faces when I first dip the camera in the water.

My host sister, Shorena is to my left, To my right is my other sister, khatuna. To the far left is their cousin

Batumi...or Disneyland?

Nice place to propose I suppose.


My teenage students took me to Mtiarla national park, which was about 7 km east of my village. I originally thought we were walking it. We walked until we hit a dirt road that wound up through the mountains into the park. From there we waited until a car large enough to carry us all picked us up. Hitchhiking is advised against, according to TLG, but a small ride through the woods close to home among friends couldn't hurt! Interestingly enough, in the heart of the park is an old village called Chakvistavi, nestled in a small valley.
My neighbor's family is from this town, as are many more families living in Gorgadzeebi. I'm curious to hear more about the history of this region, I have been told once that my village was founded some years ago because of an Ottoman (Turkish) influence, which had forced mountain populations to resettle into the foothills, closer to the sea. I'm sure it will be a good story, and look forward to hearing more about it.
At Chakvistavi the four of us went along the river Chakvistskali through an extremely dense subtropical forest. I have never experienced that level of humidity! Luckily, it was during a temporary 'dry' spell, so it didn't rain. Not that rain is a big problem. Unlike California rain, you don't get cold, just more wet than you were before. On our hike, we didn't go very far. About a mile up along the river, we came to a picnic area and a swimming hole. Moss grew along the rocks, and was a challenge to climb up an embankment along the river, but we all managed to climb up and jump into the swimming hole. Afterwards we had a huge feast of bread, sausage, tomatoes cucumbers, wine and beer. We stumbled back to Chakvistavi and rented a tent to sleep in.

My day was over and all I wanted to was sleep, but my younger companions wanted to goof off all night. Its kind of a recurring scenario I've noticed. I like to sleep and relax, and my younger companions want to stay up, or go swimming, or goof off at camp. I suppose its an age difference. They are all under 18, and have more energy, plus, I'm not used to drinking so much wine and beer! I probably should have not drank with my future students, and will be avoid it in the future.

I didn't get to stay there for as long as I wanted to, and I will surely have to come back. My companions did have the stamina or equipment to actually go backpacking. I'll have to find myself another TLG volunteer who'd be willing to stay there a few days, instead of that short amount of time. The park is staggeringly beautiful, but I didn't get to see much of it. Oh well, I still have so much more time to explore Georgia, and this park is so close, it shall be done!


Mtiarla National Park

Mtiarla National Park

Behind me is a trail leading to the waterfall...for a later day.

Swimming hole, with a lofty rock to jump off of.

Mtiarla National Park



July 23rd-July 27th. Getting acquainted with Gorgadzeebi

Today I began to explore the village after breakfast. The roads of Gorgadzeebi are mostly dirt, sometimes there is pavement or remnants of them. A car's suspension doesn't last long here. I walked north along a village path, soon running into a pair of women. I could only say "Gamarjobat" to them. I found out that one of the women is an English teacher who works in Chakvi, and the other is her mother, Neli. I wandered up the mountains. Later that day, Neli came by my home with her two grandsons, Giorgi and Giga. Later that day, I came over to their house and played soccer with them. They both knew some English, and would frequently say "What your name?"

The village has such a warm atmosphere, As I wandered up into the hillsides I met a family sitting outside their homestead. In broken English and in broken Georgian, I somehow remembered the phrase "ingliseli ena mastavlebeli var" or I am an English language teacher, and pointed back to Gorgadzeebi. Instantly we all understood and they invited me to drink with them. Reader, the top questions Georgians ask you is: Georgia is good, no? You like Georgian wine/vodka/chacha? (moonshine derived from grapes, similar to grappa) What your name?, Where are you from? Are you English or American? Georgian music/dance/women, you like?  Each time you answer any of these questions in Georgian, their faces light up, and the feeling of being welcomed soon follows. I am ashamed to say that I did not eat with them, I was a bit shy and didn't want to feel overwhelmed. Learning a language is a humbling experience. I am a college graduate, from UCSD, but that means nothing now. Here I have the vocabulary of a 5 year old and need to be led around by my host family or villagers. Later on I went back to say hello to that house, and to have a dinner with them...and three glasses of wine.

Georgian people on a whole are the most hospitable people I have met. At every house visited, I have had chocolate, candy, ice cream, fruit, tea, coffee, vodka and wine offered to me as soon as I sit down. I am not kidding, you do not go hungry here. When I am walking through the village, I am offered grapes, plums, and hazelnuts, which are everywhere. If I do go without eating, my own babia brings a half dozen plates out demanding "tchame, tchame Tariel!" which is the translates to "eat eat, Tyler!" Yes, there is an equivalent name for Tyler in Georgia, to the delight of everyone I meet.

I have also met more of the neighborhood boys. One in particular, Miriani and I are good friends. So far he has introduced me to dozens of houses and people all over the village. My days are usually spent hanging out with Miriani and his friends, doing small chores (I'm not allowed to help, just watch) going to the local river, or playing soccer. We are also going to go to the national park on Saturday and Sunday with a few other teenagers and Pridon, the school director. I am so excited! Adjara is beautiful in the costal foothills, but I really am curious to see some wilderness, not to mention cloud forest! The mountains east of Gorgadzeebi have been constantly covered in clouds since I've arrived here. I've never been backpacking in a  subtropical rainforest before stay tuned for some awesome photos.

Hanging out by the river is one of the best pastimes in Gorgadzeebi. It is hot here, and humid! The water though, is nice and cool. There is a swimming hole people converge on, where everyone swims, gossips, ask the American teacher questions. We also played a game of volleyball. I noticed the way people play sports here is much less competitive. It may be attributed to the small town atmosphere, but the volleyball game was more about keeping the ball active, and including everyone. I'm convinced that it is due to being in a small community. These people have been living together for generations, and will be continuing to live with each other for generations. Being nice is much more than being polite, it is essential for living in a small community.
This first week was a blast, in sum, Gorgadzeebi is perfect for me, and I am having an awesome time. There is lots to do, and I even have to slow down from time to time and study some Georgian or write home.
Roads of Gorgadzeebi, you can see the dog at the end of the road. Also a part of Gorgadzeebi.

I went back to that house that invited me to eat with them a few weeks later. They were having another feast and I was obliged to drink three glasses of wine. 

Miriani with the volleyball at the river.


Monday, July 30, 2012

Sunday July 22nd. Journey to Gorgadzeebi


I write this message on Wednesday. So much has happened these past few days, I can compare it to when I first moved to Lincoln, or when I moved to San Diego, or when I went on vacation in Europe and the Caribbean. So much action, I must take constant notes, and everything is important enough to write down.
The person who met me at our hotel was our schools director, Pridon (like freedom.) Pridon does not speak English, but that didn't stop him from telling me his hopes and aspirations for him, the school and Gorgadzeebi. He was accompanied by a man named mahmood, who translated for Pridon (Pridoni hopes to teach me Georgian and I teach him English) as well as a man with the Georgian name for Alexander (Zandari) Mahmood and Zandari dropped Pridon and I off at the Marshutka station. My belongings were shoved in the Marshutka and we took off out of Tbilisi.
Let me just say that the driving in Georgia isn't bad, its nerve-wracking. People often take too many chances on the road. Although there are rarely and collisions, there are plenty of close calls. I keep telling myself we aren't driving fast, so any head on collisions will only result in a exchange of verbal insults and rude hand gestures. The lanes on Georgian roads are more of an implication, rather than a designated area. This includes the lane with incoming traffic! The roads are two lanes officially, but they make them wide enough for three cars to pass abreast, which we did frequently, to my dismay. We poor souls in this minibus, who are cramped together, some of which haven't bathed in days, pray for a breeze to pass through the bus (air conditioning is a luxury), such is the price for a 12 lari ticket. I try to console myself of the stark fact of there being no seat belts by thinking "Not only are we traveling slow, but I'm surrounded by soft flesh, if we crash, it will like being tossed about in a pillowed room, we don't need to stinking seatbelts!" I am grasping for optimism, I know but its better than having a nervous breakdown, or worse, getting out and refusing to go to Adjara entirely.
We traveled through fertile valleys marked with small towns and hamlets. The mountains surrounding us on both sides were covered with thick trees. The weather was unseasonably cool, to our luck until we passed through the mountains into the next valley. The mountains themselves are stunningly beautiful. Different than the Sierra Nevada, the mountains here are covered by green, dense woods. The Marshutka would stop often (every hour or two) for a smoking/bathroom/meal. Pridon and I said little. I was too shy to say anything at this time, luckily Tara, another volunteer was on the bus with me, so we didn't spend the entire time in silence. Our final smoking stop was in Kutaisi, situated in the valley, surrounded by beautiful mountains. At the time, Kutaisi was ungodly hot, humid and windy. As we neared the Black sea coast the humidity increased from San Diego Bay to Costa Rican Rainforest levels. By now I'm used to the smell, the cramped conditions and the hot sticky air; after all, I'm an American, and we breed tough individuals who can handle extremes. The black sea coast is rich in produce and greenery. Farmland, fields, floodplains, estuaries and bays dot the landscape. As we came closer to Batumi, the city in the southern part of Adjara, the coast revealed itself through campsites and resort hotels. The resort town of Kobuleti is where Tara was dropped off.
Pridon and I were dropped off at a coastal town called Chakvi, where we were picked up by my host father, Romani. Romani owns a car, he is a taxi driver. We drove east into the mountains/foothills where Gorgadzeebi lies. From Google maps, Gorgadzeebi looks like a cluster of homes in green fields scarred by dirt roads, along a river which is an absurd perception when you actually see it. The village is a jumble of square houses on a steep mountain, the river is hundreds of feet below from where I am staying. The square houses are actually made of cement blocks, each one is a unique piece of archecture. Some are in ruins, occupied only by cattle, trees and gardens. Some are quite nice, covered in plaster and painted in white or cream colors. Most are a mix of the two. Reader be aware, I am not in a poor country, but in a diverse and rich land where flora actually flows out of the ground, without the assistance of its citizens. Gorgadzeebi and the surrounding villages are an amazing site to behold, I can compare it only to a rainforest like the ones I have seen outside San Jose, Costa Rica. By the time we reached Romani's home (after dropping of Pridoni) It was evening. I couldn't see much but I could hear hundreds of birds calling. Again, imagine rainforest.
Here I met Romani's daughter (da) Shorena, who knows a lot of English, as well as her grandmother (babia), who is perhaps of the sweetest person I've ever met. Soon after eating a meal of Khachapuri (cheesebread), cucumbers, berry juice, tea, etc I went to bed. My room is on the second floor of the house, where I was soon fast asleep. Situated on the hillside, my host family's home has a commanding view of the valley, and far away Batumi, cooler airs stir through my room through an open window, and flows through the open doors into the balcony. Although Gorgadzeebi is very humid, and reaches temperature of 30C and up, my room is always cool. 


Well that is about it. I didn't expect to write so much, but as I said earlier, so much is going on, and I can't spare you the juicy details, dear reader. Stay stalwart, I will start posting shorter entries. Now, some more pictures
Coti the cat. This ball of shadow with eyes and claws has helped me in my second stage of culture shock.

My House, perched on a mountain side

Pretty nice view of my neighborhood.

My host sister Shorena (to my right) and cousin near the Black Sea


Saturday, July 21, 2012

Flying to, Training in and exploring Tbilisi


First off, welcome to my blog. I am a volunteer residing in the Republic of Georgia. The program which I am involved in is called TLG (Teach and Learn with Georgia) which is a program geared towards teaching English in primary and secondary schools. In 2010, the government of Georgia started the program, to forge  closer ties with the Western world, as opposed to Russia in Georgia's Soviet past. This blog is just my experience of the program and of the country, I hope you enjoy it!

July 15th. The flight.


My flight from LA to Istanbul was going smoothly. The two people I sat with were friendly. One neighbor was a Mexican lady going to volunteer in Nirobi but when I asked her what country Nirobi was in she told me "Africa". Shouldn't you know which country (Kenya) you are volunteering before you get on the plane? The other neighbor was a Turkish man about my age who was going home after a month of learning English at Berkley. What I liked most about them was they were not babies, and that the back of my airline was very quite.

When we were flying over the great lakes, a doctor was requested several times by the pilot. A child with epilepsy had a seizure on board, so we had to land. The captain announced that we were to land in Winnipeg, about an hour ride back from where we came. After landing in Winnipeg, the plane remained in on the tarmac...for two hours. We weren't allowed to leave the cabin. Many of the passengers had layovers in Istanbul, and already our flight was three hours behind schedule. I was convinced that my flight wouldn't leave with out me, since my layover was much later than three hours.

When we landed, my companions had already missed their flight and my flight was boarding. A brusque goodbye and good luck to them and a couple minutes later, I found myself shoving and pushing people out of the way (as politely as I could) as I scrambled for my final plane to Tibilisi. In a Ferris Bueler-like fashion (the one when he is racing home across the neighborhood before his family gets home), I landed in my seat before the plane took off. Unbeknownst to me, my bags were not in any hurry, and they had decided to stay in Istanbul...ugh.

July 16th till the 21st. Training.

The training we are going through is very relaxed. It starts at around 9 and ends at 6, but with frequent coffee breaks and an hour for lunch. Its nice to learn what about Georgia and the public schools. Coming to Georgia is a leap into the unknown, and the training is gives a refined description of what we are getting involved with.
I especially enjoy to hear stories of past volunteers, specifically, the stories pertaining to the first volunteers. They are the pioneers that had to undergo the troubles, TLG is constantly evolving and the first volunteers had the roughest time. The program was much smaller, the early volunteers did not have the support staff that we had. Some of them were placed in very isolated locations. One volunteer in particular was sent to Ushguli, one of the most isolated places in Georgia. Located in the mountains, the village usually gets snowed in for months at a time.
Aside from fighting off jetlag, training is pleasant. I just slept for about 12 hours today, so hopefully I don't have any more trouble with nodding off in language class, which is my favorite. Or teacher Neli is so animated, and the material is especially helpful for me, since I decided on going way back in March. I understand the alphabet, so I can focus on grammar, pronunciation and word recognition. Some of the volunteers didn't decide until about a month before leaving and were lost for large swaths of the lecture!
Learning Georgian (or Kartuli) is easier when your immersed in it. I'm able to hear many words when I eavesdrop on people in the street. It's much easier to listen for than Spanish, because people don't speak so quickly. In pronunciation, consonant clusters are lumped together, for example, I have "mkavs" is one syllable.
The best part of the day is going out to the old part of town afterwards, There is nice atmosphere of Tbilisians, old and young, just hanging out. The old town is about a half an hours walk from the hotel, where one must j-walk frequently. A goal of mine is to get a j-walking ticket, that way I know it did it right! Luckily, a few days ago I got honked at, so I guess I'm getting better at it.
The driving here is bad, as expected. But it wasn't as bad as the drivers in Italy. We didn't encounter any cars on sidewalks, or any excessive tailgating. Drivers do like to use their horns frequently, as a tell-all phrase. The volunteers and I got our first dose of the driving when we were taken through Tbilisi for the medical checkup. We were able to see good sections to explore on foot. Another thing we all saw is the massive amount of "hanging out" the men like to do. The city, filled with men, young and old alike in the streets, day and night.
On Thursday we all found out about where we are staying, and some information about our host families! After grumbling and wondering all this time, I found out I am living in a village called Gorgadzeebi in the Adjara region. Adjara is the south westernmost Provence. Stay tuned for more information on the host family when I get there! Most of us are stationed along the western part of Georgia, so going out and visiting everyone is on the schedule! We all don't have any work to do until September, so we are all thinking of ways to spend the money we are being paid.
Friday is the day when older volunteers come and share their experiences. One volunteer, Andrew is living in Tbilisi and has two host families. He is currently teaching police and security. Reggie, who is from the Philippines is living in a village forty minutes from Kutaisi. His family doesn't drink any alcohol at all. They are very protective over Reggie and whenever he visits neighbors or goes to a supra (a feast in essence) , everyone knows not to pass him any drinks. He says it's important to set expectations early on, otherwise be prepared to enjoy drinks only when you are out of your town/village! Jason was a little bit older and gave some very good advice on lesson planning. Its best to stay flexible and don't expect too much progress.
For the most part, our group follows the curfews and doesn't drink at all, until we talked to the older volunteers whom had spoken. By Friday, a group of eight people in training were confident enough to hail a cab to Freedom Square and meet up with other TLG volunteers whom had come a month ago. Like us, they have no work over the summer and are left to their own devices. Either they stay with their host family, or they travel around Georgia. They told us about their host families and how different they are from the Georgian stereotype. The gist of the lesson is don't expect to know what they will be like. Georgians are just as varied as anyone else. One family was considered "Gruff" which I think could mean rugged. The volunteers host family lets him wander and isn't very protective. Crystal-day has a host mother whom is two years older than her.

On our final day of training, we went to the bazaar! Georgian bazaars are similar to any of the other open air markets. Although haggling is an important part of the Bazaar, don't expect a huge drop in price, twenty percent to thirty percent off is considered generous. The highlight of my day was spent walking the crowded, cracked and oftentimes muddy streets looking at the goods on sale. The market was broken up into sections. The front being the high end clothing and jewelry, which was in an air-conditioned room, similar to a shopping mall. Behind the mall was where the cheap clothing was. I ended bought a pair of capri shorts, since its a bit taboo to wear them in the states (Wouldn't it be great to live in a world that allows men to wear them?)

I also bought some stickers behind the clothing section and food sections of the bazaar. They are for the children I will be teaching at my school. Influenced by my animal-training girlfriend, I want to be a strict teacher, but will reward good behavior with prizes. It is forbidden for volunteers to discipline students, so I have to influence, instead of enforce. 

Regardless of what I bought, I can't haggle, or even count past ten, so I paid full price for everything, spending a total of 21 lari. Its was a bit daunting to initiate any speaking because they would speak so fast, and sometimes in Russian (the language of foreigners) making what little Georgian I knew useless. Asking prices is "ra ghame?" for those who are curious. I would take pictures of some stalls after asking "tu shedzleba?" which is the Georgian for "If it is possible?". Unfortunately, I never took a picture of the cobblers section of the bazaar, which was my favorite part.

So now I write this long post in the hotel eating area, avoiding to pack. Were meeting our host families today at 12:30 and are in for a long journey in marshutkas (minibuses), trains or cars. Sorry for the long post, a lot of things happened this past week, I plan on making the rest of the blogs shorter! Kargaaad! (bye!)
River by our hotel. Fisherman line the bridges casting nets on fishing rods. Haven't seen what they've been pulling out yet.

This is a square with a fountain, where the locals hang out at. 

Sweet sweet meat...The lady running the stand smiled and shyed away when I pulled out my camera.

Loads of spices, no tobasco or jalapenos though.

The proud owner was happy to show off his trout.