September 17th to September 28th: first and second week of school

My first week of teaching has been stunning, teaching at this school is fantastic, and I enjoy coming in to work, these two weeks has past by so quickly, I fear the second half of my stay in Georgia will zoom by before I realize that it is over. My work schedule is sparse, I teach one or two, and sometimes three classes a day. I have a lot of free-time in the village, so I usually come to school early, around ten and leave much later usually at two or three. While I'm at school, I attend my designated lessons, and sometimes I go to extra lessons!

Students are very happy to see me. I am accosted frequently between and during my lessons. I have conversations of varying complexity to almost student. Some are more shy, and others will jump right out in front of me with a hearty "Hello! How are you!" or simply speak and try to explain Georgian to me. I often try to sneak English words into their vocabulary, often saying "I will see you later" "I am glad/well/happy." instead of a simple "Good" or "Goodbye."

Inside the classroom, I try not to be too much of a distraction, regardless if the students would be distracted with out my presence! Most of my duties inside the classroom consist of helping with pronunciation or spelling. Both of my co-teachers are adequate in explaining material, but sometimes will have difficulty in idiomatic expressions and with pronunciation themselves. Apart from an occasional comment, I try not to distract too much attention from my co-teachers. They are the main teacher, and I am their auxiliary. Because they will be their when I leave, I want the students to have complete confidence in them. Outside the classroom however, I try to get the students more involved in their English. I challenge their lexicon and conversational skills.

Walking home is an enjoyment in itself, I often am accompanied by a party of children and teenagers. We get to speak to each other much more than at school. Conversations in English are so abundant during these walks I'm starting to believe that I am doing more help outside of the classroom than when I am actually working.

School is in remarkable condition, being renovated a few years ago by an American NGO. My school is made up of thirteen classrooms, covering two floors, which are connected by two staircases often heavy with traffic of students uniformed in black and white. Portraits of famous Georgians, poets, writers, politicians and artists are hung along the staircase walls, giving their name and birth/death date in Georgian script underneath their black and white image. The floors of the classrooms are made of unpainted wooden planks, which make a earthy sound when walked on, and give the rooms a pleasant, fresh-cut timber smell. The walls of the classrooms are covered in smooth plaster, painted a pleasant light yellow. In the second-floor common area, hung from the walls, before and after photographs of the school are displayed, showing the crumbling facility of only a few years back. The school has new windows, often open, letting in sunlight and a cool breeze; It being early fall, my village is still frequently hot during the day. In each classroom are radiators, newly installed. The students, staff and faculty are very proud of their renovated school, and have been taking good care of it. Of all the students I've spoke with, all have a profound respect for their school, and are keen on showing me their facility often asking me "Do you like our school?" Already I hold this school as dear as I do the schools of my childhood. The memories and experiences inside these walls will be cherished.

On the second floor, the teacher's lounge is often loud, but always the mood of the room is of jubilance. A group of teachers may be complaining loudly of their students, or laughing about how the new English teacher speaks Georgian. The school director may be giving a speech, oftentimes hotly interrupted by another one of the staff. The room's conversations, speeches and arguments often overlap with each other, it is not uncommon to be speaking several conversations at once!

A small room, away from the din of the teachers lounge is the coffee room. On waist-high cabinet, A propane gas burner, a jar of coffee and a canister of sugar make the coffee station. Second hand tables, desks and chairs make up its furniture. My co-teacher, our Russian/music teacher take breaks before and after our lessons here at least once a day. The room is more peaceful than the teacher's lounge, and we are able to communicate and speak about things (and gossip about the other teachers)

This week, I attended my other co-teacher, Mariami's class. Most of the classes I sat in they were about older students, and were enthusiastic about speaking to me. Classroom was still chaotic, but more English was spoken. The students are very inquisitive on who I am, and about America. I try to answer all of their appropriate questions, and ignore the inappropriate, questions such as: "Do you like Georgian Girls?" or "Do you like Georgian wine?" are ignored. My future plans at Gorgadzeebi involve me attending these upper classes, although TLG doesn't allow volunteers to teach grades 6th thru 12th. The past volunteers must have had disciplinary issues with the older students, causing complaints. As a result, TLG forbade their volunteers from having mandatory lessons with the older students. I however, see no harm in attending, provided my presence in their lectures are productive.

I spent time speaking with the math teacher, about math and such. She seems enthusiastic about having me be more involved in math classes. I hope to become more involved in teaching math. If not, I can always start an English club. Many of the students would benefit tremendously if they had a quiet place to do their translations and grammar exercises. I hope to set up a time and place for such a club, my co-teachers think this may be a good idea. Next week, I'll ask my school director if we can make the arrangements for an English studying center.

The highlight of the two weeks was when I taught the children cha cha cha. Ballroom dancing has been my hobby for the last three years. On Monday, At the request of some of my students, who were interested in dancing, I showed the basic steps of cha-cha-cha in one of the classrooms after school. The children are hilarious to watch, but they learned the steps so quickly! This first lesson was such a success, I must try and make more lessons, or even start a dance club. When I teach, I teach in English, introducing new vocabulary by pointing to the body. Similar to the song "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" will say "Step forward" or "Straighten you leg" and do the action. I would like to get more students involved. Dancing lessons were a trade of dance ideas as well as a lesson of English. Studying has its place, but these lessons could motivate students, making them want to learn and study English.

September 18th: Wine making.

Today, I participated in making homemade wine! Grape vines surround my house. Vines are present above the garden, along the stairs up to the second floor, and along hill, flanking the yard in the back of the house. The harvesting began earlier this week, with gathering the grapes. Today, the vines were stripped bare, their leaves given to the neighborhood cattle. The grapes were all gathered in wooden boxes.

In the afternoon, I came home from teaching my second day of school, to find my sisters sorting. In our driveway, there they were, sorting the good grapes from the leaves, spiders, and other un-savorables. Quickly, I donned some work clothes and went out to help sort. An hour later, I found myself in galoshes, ankle deep in assorted grape, separating the grape juice from its flesh and skin. Together, Romani and I poured the grape mixture (seeds, skin and flesh included) into a 50 galleon plastic tank. I asked my father (ramdeni tvit?) Which means "For how many months?" where he responded by holding up all his ten fingers, replying "Ati dghes" The grape mixture shall ferment for only ten days! From visiting wineries in California, I thought making wine would be a more complicated process, however I can't assume the wine will taste like a Merlot, I am excited to taste something I had a part in making.

Once the grapes are properly smashed, they are placed in this blue barrel. The mixture ferments and is stirred twice a day, to release the CO2 gasses from the wine. As it ferments, the sugars are consumed, the alcohol is a byproduct of the reaction.

Here is my driveway. Past the gates, you can see the bare vines after the harvest.

On a Saturday, my sisters and I were going to go to a dolphen show in Batumi. Unfortunatly, the  weather became so bad and we called it a day. To the right is my sister Khatuna, to my left is my friend Nino.

My sisters Shorena (middle) and Khatuna (top) and my friend Mari (bottom)

All of us together!

I took this picture at my house. Can you see the ship floating on the water? Are you able to distinguish between sea and sky? I thought this was so neat!

My directors office.

The students and I. My school is to our left.

My school. The facade needs painting, but the inside is perfect.

More kittens!

One of my students gave me this letter today, I think they like me.

Tbilisi for the third time: September 7th to September 13th

Autumn has arrived in Georgia. Its cooler temperatures beckon us volunteers to travel; because, starting on September 17th, our teaching terms begin, where we will have to stay in our villages/regions to teach.

A group of volunteers, including myself, decided to meet in Tbilisi and from there, go on few day-trips, to Gori and Kazbegi. I have been meaning to go see more of Georgia, and these two regions are good places to visit. Gori is the birthplace of Stalin, and boasts of a museum about his life. I have read that the museum is very informative, but mostly contains information on his early life, before he left Georgia and started a totalitarian state. Besides the museum, Gori has some caves worth exploring, making a day trip from Tbilisi feasible. Kazbegi is a mountainous region in Georgia, similar to Svaneti, only more accessible, due to its proximity to Tbilisi. Kazbegi itself is picturesque mountain, is surrounded by more of Georgia's beautiful countryside and forest. Going to Kazbegi should be a long day trip, or better still, to stay at a guest house and go on a longer hike.

Adam, Tara and I, with our tickets (reserved in advanced) took off on the night train. Unfortunately, we were not in the same cars, which meant for the entire train ride, we were separated. I shared my train cab with three younger Georgians. Fortunately, the young woman who sat across from me spoke English very well, and we were able to talk for hours. As I mentioned before, I enjoy riding on trains, largely because I have been able to meet Georgians, of regions and backgrounds, different than the people in my village. Speaking with these Georgians, I was able to have conversations that I wouldn't normally have in my village. Both parties were able to ask questions about each others' cultures and provide insightful commentary on our own, without fear of offence or unearthing subjects that can be uncomfortable. Among the uneasy subjects, we spoke about: politics, gender roles, concerns over Georgia's rapid growth, and education. I realized that I can act as a confidant to the Georgians who want to give insight on their culture. The resulting conversations were rewarding for both me and my neighbors. We were able to learn a great deal from each other as the train lurched down the tracks.

Upon reaching Tbilisi, I was feeling sick, and noticed on my hip, a swollen lymph node. I decided to call the TLG medical branch and figure out what to do; little did I know, this darn lymph node issue was going to be the theme of the entire Tbilisi trip.

I was sent to a medical clinic in the posh Vasha district of Tbilisi. The clinic I went to was relatively large, my doctor was on the third floor. There were not any real receptionists to let the doctors know you have arrived. There was no evidence of an appointment time, there wasn't even a line to wait in. The first person seen would simply walk into their doctor's office, sit down on the examination table and be attended by the doctor. For those whom are after the first, they would stick their heads in the doorway (usually open) and let the doctor know they are next, while the doctor is busy with the first patient. Following that, they wait impatiently, for the first's examination to be over, and they quickly enter the room precisely after the first leaves the room. The concept of a line is lost in Georgian culture, as a result, the concept of a private doctor visit is lost.

When It came to my turn, I squeezed into her office. My doctor spoke little English, and my rudimentary Georgian was not able to explain symptoms. Luckily we had an interpreter, and I was able to give a gist of my health issue. An ultrasonic scan and a blood sample sent me back to the hostel where I was staying.

The hostel that I stayed at was, the most unique lodging I have been to in Georgia. Hostel Romantique is situated under a DEA building. In the basement, where the entrance to the hostel located, is a large steel gate that must be unlocked for any entrance or exit (the fire marshal would have a fit if he saw this!). The hostel is a large room, with smaller chambered rooms positioned along the walls. The rooms are little bigger than closets and include a roof made from short picket planks, giving the impression of a rudimentary hut. These rooms were not designed for sleeping; the hostel, recently opened a few months ago, was before a brothel. And that, the purpose of the steel gate at the entrance is to deter the old customers. The included wireless internet was highly appreciated, I was able to Skype with my father and girlfriend after two weeks without internet in my village.

What made me enjoy this hostel was its friendly staff. The hostel was run by two women, who would take turns running the desk in 24 hour shifts. Amazingly, both women were effervescent and were always a joy to speak with. Along with the colorful staff, the current patrons were worldly travelers. From many nations and regions of the world, the travelers came to this ex-brothel, attracted to the inexpensive rates (10 Lari a night) and the complimentary dinner. Every night, a meal of soup and wine was given at seven o'clock, served in clay vases and drank from clay bowels and amphorae. In the center of the hostel, a large common area, sprinkled with tables and chairs, connected the rooms. The other TLG volunteers and I spent much of our time in our subterranean hostel. Lounging about and meeting new travelers, which was a new concept of vacation for me. I'm used to continually moving and roaming through Georgia. Staying put while on vacation is new to me, surprisingly, I liked the relaxed atmosphere and the lack of urgency.

Each day, I woke up a little more sick. Due to my deteriorating health, I was ill suited for going out for long periods in Tbilisi, and making trips to Kazbegi and Gori. Plus, I was ordered by my doctor to relax and not strain myself climbing up mountains and exploring caves, or even drinking the complementary wine at my hostel! I did, however, went on small excursions, such as a walk with a few volunteers to a park, where they played American football.

On Tuesday, I managed to crawl out of the hostel and attend the Spain v. Georgia football game. Getting the tickets involved some work, and was a task in itself. The ticket stand was at another stadium, near my medical clinic on the outskirts of Tbilisi. Upon reaching our destination, we were reminded of how Georgians have a distaste for waiting in lines, and instead crowd around the counter. To make matters worse, there weren't any English speakers around and the teller was behind a one way window, making hand gestures and body language (the foreigner's best method of communication) impossible. Somehow, we managed to buy the right amount of tickets in the same section.

When it came time for the game, our hostel staff painted on our faces, with their own lipstick, the Georgian flag. With our faces emblazoned in sinful red color, we took the metro, and soon found ourselves among the throng heading to the game. Predictably, we were soon separated upon leaving the metro station. The streets were full of people in red and white, as well as cars and taxis which were hopelessly trying to get away from the stadium. Police officers in full riot gear patrolled stadium.

After reaching our seats and waiting for a spell of time, the volunteers and I met back up in time for the game to start. Spain was a very aggressive team and the ball was on Georgia's side most of the time. Having either anticipated or was their nature, Georgia played defensibly by keeping in a formation. Spain was not ably to score until late in the second quarter. Up until then Georgian moral was very high. Spain is at this time the number one team, and everyone I spoke with expected Spain to win, and having only scored one goal the entire game should be considered a victory in Georgia's part. The game ended and we hired a taxi (after walking a safe distance from the stadium) and headed back to the hostel. The metro station was absolutely packed, and any hope of getting back within a reasonable by subway time was hopeless.

On Wednesday, I saw for the third time the doctor. My health was worsening, I was running out of money, and my friends were going back to their villages. It was time to call. When I came into contact with the staff, they agreed to pick me up and drive me to the clinic. This time, I was given a personal ride by Maia from TLG. When the doctor saw me, I wasn't given a diagnosis, but I was given a prognosis, which was a cocktail of antibiotics, antiviral, and antifungal medications. The insurance policy of TLG has its volunteers pay 50% for prescriptions, which meant I had to pay about 100 lari for all of my medicine. September, although not the most extravagant month, has had the most superfluous spending. My sickness, I am convinced was caused by a bug bite near my swollen lymph node, which had caused the swelling, consequentially disrupting my immune system enough to allow in a common cold, most likely caught in a hostel, to invade. The antibiotics were very helpful, but everything else didn't make an effect. That afternoon, I purchased a train ticket back home for that morning. Train tickets are best bought in advance in Georgia, since they often sell out the day of the train departure. Fortunately, I didn't have to stay in the brothel again; my friends Griffin and Megan had me stay with them in their apartment.

When ill in another country, Getting better is more of a priority than thrift. Most of the medicine were profligacies, but I had to buy them, and I know that the antibiotics had helped me out. When I returned to my village, Maya would call periodically, to make sure I have been getting better, which fortunately, I was. After the ordeal, I feel that TLG did a good job taking care of me, and am able to start my first week of school, healthy and prepared. 

I can walk on water. The photo was taken in Tbilisi.

With friends in our hostel.

Thought this was really cool. You don't get this in America.

August 24th to August 27th, Sighnaghi and Lagodecki

A week before the events in this entry occurred, I had made an acquaintance of a peace corps volunteer named John, from Chicago, who after twenty four months of being stationed in Kenya, had signed up for another four months to work at Mtiarla national park near my town. John's term with the peace corps was at an end, and he had some time off to travel and see some more of Georgia. John had a good friend who was also from the peace corps living in Lagodecki, who entreated us to stay at his guesthouse and visit Lagodecki national park. After taking the night train to Tbilisi, I met up with John and we set out on Friday morning on a Marshutka to the eastern region of Georgia, Kakheti.

Before meeting up with Shannon, John and I went to Sighnaghi, which was to be a slight detour to Lagodecki. The marshutka ride was uneventful, much of Kakheti reminded me of the central valley of California in climate and in appearance. The valley was flat but fertile, the hillsides were browned grass and the summer air was dry. Sighnaghi is however, located on a mountain range that splits Kakheti in two regions. The town itself is perched at the top of a mountain overlooking the eastern valley below. Further east, at the foot of the next mountain range is the town of Lagodecki.

The township had been redone a few years ago and is now a major tourist destination, due to its scenery, an adjacent monastery, its wine production and for it having a large wall. John and I first started out exploring the wall. We started at one section and was charged a lari by an old man, who urged us to put it in a tin cup. I know he was not a legitimate museum curator or groundskeeper, but simply a local trying to make a dollar. I simply wanted to be left alone, and was more than willing to depart from a lari so that I could depart from this persistent denizen of Sighnaghi's wall. John and I were able to explore most of the wall, which is entirely intact, and stretches around a circle. The modern city itself is built on both sides of the southern wall. Climbing on and walking the crenulations and towers commanded exceptional views of the township mountains and valley below, which is shown in the photos on this post.

John and I also visited the monastery, which I highly recommend on seeing. The walk there was about a one and a half kilometers long outside Sighnaghi, and mostly in the shade. We decided upon reaching a fork in the road to take a side trip to some holy springs, apparently adjacent to the monastery. We could see the monastery from where we were, and was only a short walk from the fork, we figured the springs to be close, but after a half an hour walk down the mountain and no sign of any springs, I made the decision to trudge back up the road to the monastery. At the time, I was hot and frustrated at how far a walk it was taking to get to the springs. I felt that it was not worth actually going to the springs themselves, because they were so far away, and the sign at the fork in the road said nothing about how long of a trek it was. Its silly to have walked such a long way and to not have seen them. The monastery complex itself was very beautiful. The church gardens were exceptionally beautiful. They were covered in grass and greenery and the view from them spectacular. John and I did, after the holy spring fiasco, came upon a direct walking path down to the springs from the garden itself, to our agitation! We decided against going down the path, since it was still too far away, and the day was waning. Adjacent to the gardens was a old church with fantastic icons and paintings on the inside walls, and I also got to hear a choir sing! Other than the garden and the church, the monastery is closed off to the rest of the public.

Heading back to Sighnaghi was uneventful, and when reaching the city again, we found the major winery there was reserved for a huge supra/party, and was closed to the public, which was a shame since I was really interested in the wine culture in Georiga. Apparently the production, distribution and consumption of wine is incredibly ancient and sacred, especially in Kakheti. What is interesting to me especially is that production of the wine is different from every wine producing region. The grapes are essentially pressed and their juices are poured into large clay amphoras buried in the ground. There they ferment for a number of months and are dug up and consumed. I'd highly advise learning more about the wine culture and the process here. It says so much about Georgian custom, where wine holds a strong part of. The wine culture also says something about Georgian hospitality, where refusing a toast or a glass of wine is a much greater insult than one may expect.

Having nothing left to see, and evening approaching, John and I decided to take a cab over to Lagodecki. Two hours drive down one mountain range, through the valley, to the foot of the eastern mountains, we arrived to the city. The guesthouse was located off the main street, towards the park, which is the mountains north of the city. We ended up staying for two nights, had three meals, for a total of 25 lari each! I have never stayed at a hostel for so cheep, and having meals included fortunate.

In Lagodecki, John and I met up with two other TLG'ers from South Africa. Shannon, the peace corps volunteer who works at the park, led us to the park and up the trail to a waterfall. Lagodecki National park is comprised of forested mountains and alpine wilderness at higher elevations, our hike consisted of following a river, up the forest. The trees were humongous, and there was a dense canopy, providing shade for most of the way there. The trail was well marked, and at times times extremely steep. The waterfall we went to was smaller than I expected, but was still a pleasant end to a hike. The South Africans were as into hiking as John, Shannon and I, so going on a simple hike was ideal. To see more of the park, John and I did plan on going on a larger hike the next day, where we could walk to our hearts content without making our

The hike that John and I took the next day was more difficult, as the trail was difficult to find, being placed upon a dry riverbed. Getting lost however is out of the question, being as the trail would simply follow the river and the river was confined in a narrow valley. About two hours later, we reached another waterfall, much bigger than the first we saw. The falls went about 30 meters down, and we were able to climb up to the top of the falls and look out through the side, a bit frightening, but fun! At the end of the hike, we hitchhiked back to our guesthouse. I really enjoyed one particular car. The three men that picked us up bought a two and a half liter bottle of Kazbegi beer, and urged us to have a few glasses with them on the side of the road. I now consider that brand of Georgian beer to be my favorite, it was a perfect end to a wonderful hike.

After the marshutka ride back to Tbilisi, we reached the train station, only to discover the night train had sold out all of its seats. I had to stay at Tbilisi an extra night, but I would still be getting home by Monday night. Staying with John an extra night was pleasant enough. Tbilisi has more of a variety (we had shwarma for dinner!) and I got to learn more about John's stay in the peace corps, and about his term in Kenya.

I would like to stay in Kakheti longer, however I wanted to make it back to my host mother, Naira's birthday. I feel that I have been neglecting my family this past week, and I've been meaning to spend more time with them. When I get back to Gorgadzeebi, I plan on sticking around there for a about a week. School is starting in Mid September, and although I don't quite know when the exact date is (the sources vary from September 17th to the 20th) I should start thinking about lesson plans and preparing for my actual job.

Sighnaghi: Looks like a village in Italy right?

Climbed myself a city wall, you can do this in Georgia without  any concern of someone telling you not to.

John, My peace core friend. Behind him lies the valley Sighnaghi overlooks.

Big waterfall at Lagodecki.

John and I climbed to the top of the waterfall and took a picture off the edge, quite a thrilling experience. 

Further up the river, we came upon a smaller waterfall, you don't know how cold this water was.

Can you see the rainbow? The area below this waterfall is absolutely splattered with vapor. Standing there for 30 seconds gets you completely soaked.  A bizarre piece of land where the distinction of water and air are blurred.

Big trees at Lagodecki