Only in Georgia!.............................

(Written January 15, 2008). Some days you just say to yourself, "Only in Georgia!". This is one of those days.

Today was the first day back in school after the holiday vacation. However, yesterday they announced on TV that schools in Georgia would not be starting until the 21st. I thought we were supposed to be going back to school today, so when I learned about the TV announcement, I texted my counterpart to find out what she knew. She said the school director hadn't said anything to her about a change in the plan, so we'd better go. She also told me not to expect many children to be there since it was cold outside (in Georgia that means it's cold inside as well).

Today also happened to be my host sister Nino's 17th birthday. Her Mom takes school pretty seriously, so I knew she'd be ready to go when the time came. We bundled up and started our 20 minute walk, but about 5 minutes into the walk we both started to hear loud music. I remembered blaring music had been playing the first day of the school year so I asked Nino if the music could possibly be coming from the school. The closer we got the louder it became, and sure enough, it was coming from the school. Nino said a famous New Year's song was being played (in Georgia they celebrate the "New" Year on January 1 and the "Old" New Year on January 14th). As predicted, very few students showed up for school (I'm sure the TV announcement didn't help). In one of my classes 2 of 15 kids showed up, so we had 2 students and 2 teachers, which is a pretty good ratio for public school! Unfortunately, someone had broken into the classroom over the vacation and stolen the small electric coil heater that was given to each class before Christmas. They also took some flowers according to my counterpart. Keep in mind that our school has 24/7 security guards!

After my scheduled classes I returned home to help with the festivities for tonight's big birthday supra for Nino. You can always tell it's the day of a big party because our host family always rubs the floor in the front room with a gasoline like substance which gives off noxious fumes throughout the evening's festivities. You would think that they could modify the schedule to do the floor treatment the day before the party, but they don't. The whole extended family is here to help in the afternoon, although the men generally hang around the petchi and smoke and eat, while the women do all the work. When I came in there was also another man in the front room I did
not recognize and we were not introduced. I went into the kitchen where the women were busy preparing a second cake (20" in diameter), several potato/carrot/onion/cabbage/mayonnaise salads and a mushroom dish using about 10 lbs. of mushrooms. I made myself useful by cutting the mushrooms into tiny pieces. Oh, how I long for my Cuisinart! As you may recall from our last post, Beso, our host Dad, and 2 partners have started a mushroom business in a vacant house next door. Needless to say we eat mushrooms at every meal. In the midafternoon some guests arrived from our host mom Eka's office to bring a big teddy bear to Nino and to toast her with shots of cha-cha (moonshine). The petchi in our room adjacent to the kitchen was fired up to cook much of the food in, but the first batch of chickens gave off so much smoke from the fat that our PC smoke detector went off. There I was in the smoky room with 6 adults and 2 kids who had never seen or heard of a smoke detector before. We cleared out the smoke but the room got pretty cold. I went into the front room to warm up (our room and the front room are the only two rooms in the house with petchis for heat) only to find that I was disrupting some sort of a religious ceremony. The man who I did not know was gently swinging a crucifix over a large jar of water while softly chanting prayers. I went back to the ladies in the kitchen to find out what was happening, and I was told that he was here to bless the mushroom house! I still don't know why he came in the middle of the preparations for a birthday supra to perform the ceremony or why the ceremony itself wasn't held in the mushroom house next door. Well, it's not yet 3 pm (6am for you) and there is much more to do before the 20+ guests arrive at 6pm. Some of the men are outside blowtorching the hair off the two piglets that our host family bought at the bazaar this morning and just killed and cleaned. Shortly they will be "doing time" in our petchi. To complicate things, our water pipes are frozen today with no hope of thawing before party time, so we will be drawing water from our neighbor's well for cleanup.

As I said at the outset, "Only in Georgia!"



Here is Beso's sister working on one of the many salads served at the supra.















You can never have too much khachapuri (it's the national dish)












a scene from the kitchen next to our room, just before the smoke detector went off (note the cake in the cabinet)













One of the piglets getting cooked in our petchi. The petchi is about two feet from my side of the bed in our room (we pulled the bed farther away during the supra for better cooking access).











The outside sink where all the dirty supra dishes ended up getting piled (after this picture was taken) while we waited for the water to unfreeze.












The stove top in the family kitchen. Almost everything is cooked on it or in the petchi (the oven doesn't work). Note the propane cylinder on its side. When you are running out of gas that's what you do first to try and get as much gas out of the cylinder as possible. Next you stand the cylinder up in a tub of hot water. When you can't get any more gas out after doing that, you have to get the cylinder refilled.









A picture of the five girls named Nino who attended the birthday supra, including the guest of honor (our host sister Nino) holding the youngest Nino's hands.

Potpourri.............................................

Since our last post we have been busy!

Mark's 60th birthday was celebrated by our family
with a huge supra and many toasts. His office
also celebrated all afternoon at work!

Irma, from Mark's office, got married and had a big wedding reception. She is the English speaker in his office, so, of necessity, they have become quite close. The party took place at her husband's family home, where she now lives with her husband in accordance with Georgian
tradition.






This is the tent in the middle of the street in front of Irma's new house, where the wedding reception was held. There were about 150 people there. Cars had to find an alternate route to wherever they were going as the tent blocked the whole street. There were many toasts, and during the dinner, the head of the cow that was butchered for the meal was presented to the "Tamada" ( toastmaster) by the bride's family as a gift for his services. A great deal of eating, drinking and dancing took place, and when we left about 4 hours after the festivities started, the party was still going strong.

















Here are a couple of typical Georgian fellows at the wedding.












Our host father has started a mushroom business with his brother in law in the empty house next to ours. They constructed a hot water heating system to keep a constant temperature in the mushroom rooms and they rigged up lights which shine on the mushrooms 24 hours a day. The mushroom season runs from about late November until May. Every day they harvest the mushrooms that are ready and send them on the night train to Tbilisi. As you can imagine, mushrooms have become a big part of our diet at home too!

Here is Beso stirring the "bamba". The bamba is something like peat moss that gets cooked before being put into clear heavy plastic bags in layers which alternate with layers of mushroom seeds.














The bags are kept in the dark for 14 days at a certain temperature and then slits are cut into the sides and they are hung in a room with lights shining on them. The mushrooms then start growing out the slits and are harvested daily when ready. It only takes a day or two from the time the mushroom can first be seen until it reaches full size and is harvested. Every night the mushrooms are sent on the night train from Zugdidi to Tbilisi, where they are sold at the bazaar the next morning.











We were walking down the street when one of Lisa's students spotted her and rushed up to say hello. Pretty soon the rest of the family showed up (along with a couple of the neighbors) and the parents and kids wanted us to come into the house for a visit. This kind of stuff happens pretty much every day. Here's a picture that we took of the kids. We had prints made up and gave one to each of them.












Our host mother, Eka, has two sisters. They are
a very close family. Each sister has a daughter close to the same age as our sister, Nino. The Moms and Dads spend a lot of time hanging around our house and watching television together. They also help with the mushroom business or the cooking, cleaning or whatever else is going on. This picture shows our host sister Nino and her father Beso in the middle, with Nino's two cousins and their fathers in the family's living room (the only room in the house, other than our room, which is kept heated in winter).














Eka's sisters and a visiting Aunt are gathered around the pechi for warmth while they enjoy a cup of Turquli kava.












We rounded up three Peace Corps Volunteers from the villages in the mountains (they lead a much more difficult existence than we do) to come to our room for a visit over the holidays. One could say that they were stand-ins for our own kids, who are about the same ages as our visitors. Our first thought was to have a big turkey dinner, but the price of turkeys at the bazaar was to the moon (about $50 for a 15 to 20 pounder live weight....and then you had to kill it, pluck it and clean it). Instead, we made eggplant parmesean. Unfortunately, we mistakenly used the family's holy oil to cook with!













We used our pechi (because the kitchen gas canister was empty) and cooked in the dark (because the electricity was out). Notice the headlamps on the cooks in the picture. Surprisingly, everything turned out great, thanks to Christie, Paul and Erik!












This week was the presidential election in Georgia. The current president Mikheil Saakashvili










seems to have won, getting slightly in excess of 50% of the vote. Shortly before the election he came to Zugdidi and presented the City with a gift of 10 new tractors and 8 new buses, which have been on display in the center of town since his visit. He also gave each family in town (including ours) a 50 kg sack of flour and a voucher to get free firewood in the forest! He got our vote!

Here's a picture of our host father, Beso, with his Saakashvili poster.


















And finally, here's a picture of Lisa doing something in our room, while waiting for the laundry to dry.

Internet and lines................................

We have internet at our house! Actually, I should say we HAD internet at our house. It worked for one day (Thanksgiving Day) and has been on the fritz for the three days since then. Hopefully it is a temporary problem and we will be back up and running soon. At least now I know for sure that it is possible to get a connection here. Our street is about 5 miles long and we are the only connection on it (actually, I suspect that we are the only connection in this part of town). It is a DSL connection, although the speed is about the same as dial-up (I'm not complaining). Getting the internet has been a long involved process. As I mentioned in earlier posts, I was told at one point that we could get an internet connection in a week. Subsequently, that estimate was extended to a month, and in actuality, the process ended up taking about 2 1/2 months, which is still well within the "time-estimation parameters" for getting something done in Georgia. In order to make the necessary arrangements, I first had to go to the telephone office, where all the records for Zugdidi are maintained manually, on ledger cards. Arrangements had to be made to change the type of line servicing our house and that required that the phone number be changed also. Then the people in the internet office had to put the order in through the central office in Tbilisi and we began the 2 1/2 month wait. Once I learned last week that the internet office in Zugdidi had gotten whatever they needed from Tbilisi, I stopped over there and they gave me some pieces of paper, which I had to take to a different telephone office than the one I had been to previously. The woman in the new telephone office stamped the pieces of paper with a rubber stamp of some sort and then gave me back all the papers along with a bill, which she also stamped a few times with a different rubber stamp. Then I had to take the paperwork over to the Bank in order to pay the bill. At the bank, bills are first presented to a person at a desk. That person enters something into a computer and waits for their printer to spit out another piece of paper which is then stamped a few times and given back (Georgians love stamping stuff.....I'm convinced that if wax seals were readily available here they would be a big hit too). All the pieces of paper are then taken over to another area of the bank known as the "Cash Desk", where payment (in cash) is made and a receipt is given. All of this would have been fine if it were not for the crush of people seeking service at each step along the way. Unlike America, where people line up and are served when their turn comes, here in Georgia the concept of a line does not exist. At each of the stops which I've noted above there were many other people who also wanted attention for one thing or another. Instead of lining up, everyone stormed the desk of the person providing the service and then wiggled and jockeyed for position in front of everyone else. As a result, things took much longer to accomplish than if everyone simply waited their turn. Also, the whole process here is considerably more stressful, since you invariably become angry at people who have unjustifiably butted in front of you ("line rage"). I had to go to three separate offices and spend over two hours one afternoon in just trying to pay our internet bill. Imagine my surpirse when I learned that this process much be repeated each month. Here, people don't get bills in the mail (there is no home mail delivery). You must go to the telephone office at the correct time each month, make your way to the front of the crush of people there, get your bill, take it to the bank, make your way to the front of the crush of people there, and then again repeat the process when you actually pay the bill at the cash desk in the bank. People must do this to pay their electric bill as well as their phone bill. If you forget to go get the bill and make payment at the proper time of the month, your electricity or telephone is simply turned off. With the exception of the bank, which is located on the first floor of a recently renovated building in town, the locations where these agencies maintain their offices are also eye-opening. For example, the telephone office that I had to go to is located in a very large old Soviet style cement building which is largely abandoned. I had to climb a very narrow staircase until I reached the proper floor and then walk down a narrow hallway which runs the length of the building (two people walking in an opposite direction can barely get by one another without turning sideways). The entire hallway is illuminated by just one or two lightbulbs hanging from the hallway ceiling, which necessarily means that a considerable length of the hall is almost completely dark. On both sides of the hall are many doors, none of which identify the office which lies within (you must have precise directions in order to get to where you want to go). Some of the doors are missing and you can see offices inside that have been abandoned and the entire contents (including the windows) looted. There is no heat and there are piles of trash in the stairwells and hallways, all of which combine to give the building a very haunted house feel. I was happy to get out of there after my business was done. Fortunately, next month it will be Lisa's turn to pay the internet bill !!

Halloween at School.............................

When my counterpart teacher, Nino, learned that there was an American holiday called Halloween coming up she immediately seized the moment and said, "We need to plan a special day for all the classes." We then spent a lot of time prepping the kids on the origins of the holiday and what kinds of costumes we wanted them to create. I confess to being a little skeptical about what they would come up with. Prior to the big day, we had a team of students carve a Jack-o-Lantern (out of a squash of some sort that resembled a pumpkin), and Nino and a friend of hers went crazy trying to "decorate" the room. They brought in little plastic bugs and dinosaurs they thought looked scary. I tried to find black paper in town to make bats or spiders. No go. On the big day, we made 2 big ghosts to hang and had scary music playing. We put the headlamp I use for reading at home inside our pumpkin in the flash mode. The kids were so excited we actually needed someone to guard the door when word got out in the rest of the school that something spooky was going on in our room. Many teachers who did not have classes (many are part time) were in the back of the room watching the goings on. I had on my Marge Simpson costume on with 3' of blue hair and an outrageous necklace. They know "The Simpsonis" here, so the costume was a hit. The kids came to school dressed in many fantastic costumes themselves! They took turns describing their costumes in English and then each came forward one at a time to "Trick or Treat" at the classroom door from the inside out. Nino was poised in the hall outside the door with a big bag of candy, and she dutifully answered the door as each kid knocked in turn. Then I took picture of each student. Next we bobbed for apples... a big hit! There was a lot of water in the tub (at least to start with) and the kids were cheering for each other. We were waiting with towels to rescue them. Everyone then sang that old standard, "If You're Scary and You Know it Clap your Hands". As we reached the stanza, "If you're scary and you know it then your face will reallly show it" everyone made a ghoulish face. You can see my ghoulish face in one of the pictures below. We finished up by first discussing and then writing about the party in English. This week we are preparing a huge display with all the photos that we took and the kids' written reports. They have all been taught British English so many of them agreed that is was a very "jolly" party. I was pooped after holding separate Halloween parties for each of my five classes, but it was worth it! The festivities were apparently such a hit that Nino has just informed me that there will be a Christmas pagent at the end of December, and we need to come up with a big performance to wow the director! I will be waiting for all your recommendations, and I'm counting on all you music teachers out there to come up with something good!




11th Grade Class --class bad boys (tseudi bitchebi) as siamese twins in lower right








Bobbing for apples........



















If you're scary and you know it, then your face will surely show it!!!














7 th Grade Class
















Achicko as a baby!

A Quick Observation.......................

In Georgia, all physical maladies can be cured in one of two ways. You need either to eat a certain type of Georgian food or to go to a certain location in Georgia and breathe the air. The foods and locations vary depending on what ails you. In a place with no medical insurance, it's nice to know that there's always a quick fix for any problem that may arise!!

The US Peace Corps Director comes to Georgia!

We had an interesting week. Ron Tschetter, the US Director of the Peace Corps, was in Georgia for a visit. Since the Peace Corps is now actively attempting to enlist older volunteers, we were invited to meet and have lunch with him as the local poster children for this new initiative. However, in order for us to do so, we needed to travel to another city in Georgia (Zestafoni) where the luncheon was scheduled to be held. That required that first we go to Kutaisi, where we were to stay overnight at a guest house, and then travel to Zestafoni the following morning in order to arrive in time for lunch. Unfortunately, our get-together was set to occur on the same day as a large rally in opposition to the current government was to take place in Tbilisi, the capital. Small rallies have been held in various regions of the country over the past few weeks and they were set to culminate in a very large rally in Tbilisi to be held on the same day as we were to have lunch. A regional opposition rally that was held in Zugdidi a couple of weeks ago turned violent when persons supporting the current government clashed with opposition supporters, and pictures of the violence in Zugdidi were shown on TV all over the country. When we went to catch a marshutka or bus from Zugdidi to Kutaisi the day before the lunch (and the rally in Tbilisi) we were told that no marshutkas or buses would be operating between Zugdidi and the larger cities to the East until after the rally was over. We could only speculate as to why. We managed to identify and board a rogue marshutka that was traveling in the correct direction (without a destination sign in its window), but we were stopped by the police about 15 miles outside of town. After a great deal of agitated conversation and the arrival of additional police, the passengers on the marshutka were ushered off onto the shoulder of the highway and the marshutka was taken by the police back in the direction of Zugdidi. We latched on to a lady who was a fellow passenger in the marshutka who was also heading to Kutaisi and decided that whatever she did to deal with the situation we were going to do as well! Fortune shined upon us a short time later when we caught a taxi and completed the rest of the trip without incident. We enjoyed a nice dinner at a restaurant with two fellow Peace Corps volunteers and then returned to the guest house where we spent the rest of the evening talking with the owner (who spoke pretty good English) and a young couple from France who were in the last month of a seven month road trip which they started from Beijing. The following morning we caught a marshutka to Zestafoni without any problem, had our lunch with the Director and our Country Director (at a table for 4) and caught a (very) slow train back to Zugdidi. The Director seemed to be a pretty regular guy, who was genuinely interested in our experiences so far and our suggestions as to how the Peace Corps might better achieve its goal of attracting older volunteers. Of course, we had to have a picture taken with him. It appears below.

Yesterday..................................

(written Friday, 10/19/07). Yesterday was a big day. First, when I got to the office and checked my email I found I had email messages from both my son Craig and my daughter Molly which asked that we call them right away concerning an emergency involving our son Drew, who is a Peace Corps volunteer in Panama. They had each tried to call us, but neither could get through (no one can). Of course it was the middle of the night for both of them at that point, but I tried unsuccessfully to reach them by phone none-the-less. When they didn't pick up, I left messages for each. The emails which they sent were not particularly enlightening as to the precise nature of Drew's problem, which caused us additional angst. As far as we understood, he was in a hospital with what was thought to be Dengue Fever. Since Drew was just about to get get out of the Peace Corps to begin a two month trip around South America before returning to Panama to serve a 6 month stint in the Crisis Corps (an adjunct organization of the Peace Corps), we didn't know if he was in Panama or in a hospital somewhere else in South America. After a flurry of calls, we finally succeeded in getting in touch with our son Craig who said that he had received a voice mail message from Drew the day before asking him to get in touch with us to let us know. He said that Drew didn't sound good on the message, and that prompted him to "declare an emergency". As it turned out, Drew was scheduled to end his Peace Corps service and fly to Lima, Peru on the first leg of his South American adventure two days after he became ill. He is presently in a hospital in Panama City where he is recovering from Dengue Fever. We were able to get in touch with him by phone and he sounds like he is on the road to recovery. However, because of the nature of the disease, they want to be sure that he is okay before turning him loose. Apparently there are two varieties of illness, one "not so bad" and the other "very bad". They want to be sure that he has the former variety and not the latter. Hopefully, he will be out of the hospital within a week. The Peace Corps has administratively extended his Peace Corps service, and they are supervising (and paying for) his care. I guess if this had to happen, it was better that it happened when it did, rather than few days later when he would have no longer been in the Peace Corps and would have been on his own in Peru.

The second thing of significance that happened yesterday was that I got back my computer that had basically gotten so many viruses that it stopped working. After unsuccessfully trying to deal with the problems myself, I brought the computer in to a computer store in Zugdidi, where they said they would take a look at it and see what they could do. Of course, I did not bring to Georgia any of the original installation disks for the programs I have on the computer, and I was also concerned that something they might do would endanger either the data in those programs or the many pictures which I have taken since our arrival in Georgia back in June. Fortunately, no data was lost and the computer now works again, although I did lose some of my programs. All in all, I feel fortunate. The results could have been much worse.

The final item of particular significance which rounded out the day yesterday was that I received the World Space Satellite Radio that I ordered about 6 weeks ago. It will allow us to receive some English language programming (NPR!!). For reasons that are not worth the telling, the radio was shipped from Dubai to Glens Falls and then to Georgia. The radio arrived a month and a day after it was sent by the USPS express delivery service from GF! I was beginning to think that it it had gotten "misdirected" along the way and that I would never get it. You can imagine my joy when someone delivered a note to my office that said I had a package at the post office. Now I've just got to figure out how to set it up.

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Today, a Georgian fellow who I had earlier met took me out to have Khashi for breakfast. Khashi is cow's feet which have been boiled. It is sometimes served in a soup made of broth and milk. You put salt and hot mustard on Khashi before you eat it (probably to help mask the taste), and you either drink beer or vodka when you eat it. There are only a few restaurants in the area that serve Khashi, which is always eaten in the morning (the place we went to served Khashi from 7 am to 10 am). The restaurant was packed with other Khashi eaters when we got there, all of whom were men. Apparently, only men go out to eat Khashi (when I was invited to go, I suggested that maybe Lisa would like to come, and it was explained to me that women generally don't go out to eat Khashi). We had vodka with our Khashi (at 8 am!). Khashi is traditionally eaten by those who have had too much to drink the night before; kind of like a "hair of the dog" approach. Depending on how late the festivities run the night before, revelers can go directly to eat some Khashi before retiring. It is supposed to settle your stomach and counter the ill-effects resulting from the over-consumption of alcohol.

Georgian Food....................

I had no intention of writing a blog entry today. I came home from school at 4pm not having eaten since breakfast, so I naturally stuck my head in the fridge. To my surprise I was greeted by a large bowl of pigs feet, another bowl containing a huge heart, liver and other entrails, and finally, the piece de resistance, a whole (roasted) pig's head. That made me decide it was now time to launch into making that blog entry I have been planning regarding Georgian food.

As it turns out, our neighbor Anzor slaughtered one of his pigs on Sunday. Mark was home to hear the squeals and observe the process. Luckily for me, I was in Tbilisi and didn't return home until the late afternoon. So last night we were treated to a feast of fresh (and I mean fresh!) roast pork with all the fixins. The fixins are pretty much the same as we have at every meal: sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, jalapenos and salt, massive amounts of fresh bread, sliced cheese that is somewhat salty and a meat sauce made from sour plums with some hot spices. Other high frequency foods are natural casing long frankfurters, sliced salami, chicken legs (don't know where the breasts go but I've never seen one here) and 60/40 ground beef. Just about all food preparation is on the cooktop with the exception of cakes. Also, you can pretty much be sure that whatever you are eating has been prepared using lots of cooking oil.

The food section at the bazaar is fabulous. There are bountiful vegis, but you won't find any type of lettuce there (although parsley, cilantro and basil are plentiful). There are lots of apples, peaches, plums, fresh figs (before they are dried) and cherries (in June), and I am told the mandarini (small orange) season is in winter and they are everywhere in massive amounts. They had a surplus last year and apparently dumped tons in the Black Sea! There are also many varieties of nuts. Georgia is especially known for its hazelnuts and walnuts. Recently, I was treated to a tour of the local hazelnut packaging factory, which is one of the main businesses here in the city of Zugdidi. One whole section of the bazaar is devoted to just spices, which are displayed in large sacks. Another huge section is strictly cheeses (most vendors selling exactly the same product as the person next to him). Most of the cheeses are very salty. Cheddar or swiss cheese is nowhere to be found. There is also a big area where various grains are for sale and the vendors are all armed with big scoops and ancient looking weight measuring scales. Perhaps the most striking part of the bazaar though is the area where the fresh meat is sold. There is no refrigeration, of course. The meat hangs from hooks, and the flies appear to be having a field day! Also, if you are one of the "roll your own" crowd, you can pick up just about any kind of tobacco you are looking for from one of the many tobacco vendors stationed at the bazaar. Every city, town or village of any size in Georgia has a bazaar, where almost everything you might need can be found.

The food specialities here are : khachapuri, sort of like a cheese only pizza (served at almost every meal) and khink'ali, a dumpling filled with spicy meat which is boiled and eaten smothered in pepper (and is always served with beer). Also, there are many bean dishes. They also make unsweet pastries filled with mashed potatoes. As you can imagine, Mark's Atkins Diet has fallen by the wayside here in Georgia. They also serve seasoned pork on skewers, which is known as mtsvati.

Our family is always harvesting something, usually various fruits or nuts. The nuts are dried and jam or mouraba is made from the fruit. Mouraba is juicier than jam and is served with homemade yogurt known as matsoni. Dannons will never taste the same to me! Honey is a local product so that is also a popular condiment.

We have introduced the family to popcorn (bati-buti), which is hard to come by here, and they really love it. They couldn't believe that so much popcorn could be produced from what seemed like such a small number of popcorn kernels.

The cakes made here are always from scratch and are huge. Most are at least 16" in diameter and 3 layers tall. Although these huge cakes are heavy, they are very light to the taste and have a not too sweet custard type frosting. Often they are garnished with glazed fruits.

As you can see we are eating well. We like the food, but the only problem is repetition. The same foods are at every meal and each restaurant has identical menus. I never realized how fortunate we are in the United States to have so many ethnic foods to choose from as well as access to just about any food ingredient you can think of. We also have so many food preparation methods with microwaves, gas grills, crock pots and ovens. No one here has any idea what a microwave oven is.

I have had fun trying to cook on occasion. So far I have made applesauce, eggplant parmesean, french onion soup and blackbean soup.

So back to the beginning. After surveying the possibilities in the refrigerator (monsivari), I settled for popcorn for my snack. So be sure to savor whatever delicious American food you may be having tonight! !!!

The Pig's head

The feet

The other stuff

Beso cleaning out our non-frost free refrigerator. It is so rare for a man to do something in the kitchen that we had to take a picture!

Eka (right) and her sister trying to fit the requisite number of candles on my birthday cake

Getting ready for my birthday supra to begin.

A bit of smoke fills the kitchen. The red thing on the floor is what they used to bake my cake. The stove oven doesn't work.

Giving Mom a smooch in the kitchen.

Helping with the canning out back.

Mark stringing up an extra length of clotesline to make room for the nuts drying on the line.

A lady who has a cake shop in a tunnel under the street (used by people to cross the street to minimize the risk of getting knocked off by a passing motorist)

A meat stand set up on the street on the way to school. Notice the ax on the table.

The spot where the meat vendor butchered what ever is was that he was selling.

Youth Bank.......................

I have just returned from a 5 day training at a hotel outside Tbilisi (the capital), which is about 6 hours away from Zugdidi where we live.The training related to a project sponsored by the Eurasia Foundation known as Youth Bank. The concept originated in 1999 in Northern Ireland and now there are Youth Banks which have been set up all over the world. Here in Georgia interested people between the ages of 16 and 24 completed applications, and each applicant was interviewed by representatives of the Eurasia Foundation. Seven people were then chosen from each of five different socio-economically challenged regions of the country, including Samegrelo, where Zugdidi is located. All 35 Youth Bank members then traveled to Tbilisi for the conference, which was held in a hotel/conference center about 10 km outside of town. I'm sure it was the first time some of the kids had ever been to the capital and the first time that others had ever stayed in a hotel. Some were from minority areas of the Country and barely speak Georgian! They speak Armenian or Azeri instead. The six trainers were from Northern Ireland, and the brogue which some of them had made it difficult to understand them as well!! You can imagine the linguistic nightmare that the training presented, but surprisingly, things went fairly well. There were 3 interpreters in attendence at all times, and the training went from 9:30 each morning to 9:30 each evening, with breaks for meals at the hotel. The Youth Bank concept is that the Youth Bank is given a sum of money which it then disburses to fund small community development projects proposed by other youths from the region. I think the Eurasia Foundation intends to provide initial funding of 7,500 GEL to each of the five Youth Banks being established in Georgia. The training related to the methodology which the Bank's members are to use in soliciting and evaluating project proposals, interviewing applicants, selecting projects to be funded, entering into contracts with successful applicants, and finally, monitoring and evaluating funded projects. The training was very professionally done and was specifically oriented toward the 16-24 year old crowd it was aimed at. For instance, at one point, a film clip of a love scene from a movie was shown. The scene was quite graphic, but no sex was actually depicted. The kids then broke into groups and individually wrote down everything they had seen in the film clip. Of course, most of them said that the couple had had sex. The exercise was intended to to make the point that when an interviewer is reporting to the full board on a project proposal, he is to report only that which he actually observes or which he is told. Interviewers are not supposed to interject their own personal thoughts or conclusions regarding project proposals. If the kids did not see the couple having sex they should not have reported that they did! The training is now over and everyone has gone back to their respective homes across the country. In the upcoming months we will see whether or not the concept of a Youth Bank will work here in Georgia.

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In Georgia, almost everyone has a cell phone (kids included), and among the kids, the kind of cell phone you have is a status symbol. The more bells and whistles the better. At the conference, one kid even had a video cell phone, where each party to the call could see the other person (or anything else the camera was aimed at) in surprisingly good video (both parties had to have similarly equipped phones of course)!!

The Start of School...................

(Written September 18, 2007). September 17th finally arrived. As is the Lebowitz Family tradition, Mark took my picture with my host sister Nino as we left the house all shiny and clean for the first day of school. The only thing missing was the school bus approaching from the rear on West River Road. We have taken that picture every year since Craig's first year in Kindergarten. As Nino and I proceeded on the 25 minute walk to school I began to hear very loud music playing, as though either a band was tuning up to play for a wedding or a car with a supersized boom box was approaching. The music grew louder until I realized it was coming from the front yard of a school (not mine) along our way, where many students were milling around. As we continued toward our school, I began to see many parents and children all heading in the same direction. Many were holding hands with each other, but what caught my eye in particular was how finely everyone seemed to be dressed and how nice everyone seemed to be "fixed up".
As we approached the school building we heard different music which grew in volume as we got closer. When I saw the building I was quite amazed. It is a large building, 2 stories high, which houses 1200 students. It is surrounded by a tall iron fence and a large paved enclosure. The place was teeming with people, mothers and fathers, teachers and students, big and small. Almost half of them were carrying large, beautiful flower arrangements. There were flower peddlers who had set up shop for the day outside the gates. Music was blasting and the children were running around like whirling dervishes, greeting friends, teachers and relatives. The traditional greeting here is either an "air kiss" or a regular kiss on the left cheek. This is done by everyone, regardless of sex or age. As is also the cultural norm here, there is no such thing as personal space, so you are constantly being squeezed, bumped into or or leaned upon by others who are going about their business.
Eventually I attempted to make my way to the main entrance to greet the director of the school ("superintendent"), Nino. Before I got there though, I was intercepted by the head of the English department, another Nino, who escorted me through the crowd to an area where her collegues were hanging out. (By the way, in case you have not surmised, Nino is a very popular name here for girls, just as Giorgi is for boys. If your name is Nino or Giorgi you get to celebrate on your birthday and on St. Nino's Day or St. George's Day as well!) Anyway, on the top steps of the school there was assembled a mixed group of children and administrators. As I was waiting for the opening words to mark the beginning of the new school year, I realized that the Director was already speaking into the microphone. The problem was that the crowd was making so much noise and running around that you could not hear anything. Eventually, the national anthem was played over the P.A. system and it managed to catch everyone's ear, afterwhich a small mixed choral group began to sing. The sound system failed twice during their performance, but they made a quick recovery each time. Then a girl, who must have been the student body president, addressed the group. Since I couldn't understand what she was saying in Georgian I became fixed on her outfit as she spoke. She wore a frilly blouse, short skirt and white Go-Go boots topped with white feathers! The girls here are stick thin from pre-pubescence until they reach middleage. It really looks as though they eat nothing (in another entry I'll tell you about all the great food they are not eating).
At the assigned moment the throngs began pulsing toward the door. We made our way up to the room where the English department hangs out. My immediate supervisor was so busy orchestrating so many people that she didn't have time to give me direction. I had asked for a schedule in advance but she said we would figure it out later. It is very Georgian to change plans at the last minute or not to make a big fuss about preplanning; so there I sat for the first hour of the first day of the school year. Eventually, a school business person showed up with a ledger. That really got all the teachers buzzing. Because they work part time for hardly any pay, each of them wanted to make sure she (there are no male English teachers in the school) was being properly compensated for the number of classes she was assigned to teach. I don't blame them. I feel that I am back in the pre-computer age of the 60's, where everything is recorded in longhand---the schedules, the business ledger and attendance at school. The Georgian Education Ministry had promised computers in the school by the start of the school year, but it hasn't happened yet. I think their attention would better be directed toward getting heat of some sort in the school building first. There is no heat, and in the winter everyone wears their long underwear, coats and boots during an abbreviated school day.
Well back to the first day. Finally, the teachers started to feel sorry for me and asked what I would be doing. At about that time Nino came up for air and said, "Maybe you could talk to the classes about why you are here and what you will be doing. I will be right back." That gave me a leisurely 10 minutes to come up with a plan. Following that 10 minutes, I was escorted to a classroom with 35 5th year students. One girl actually had her little brother sitting in the seat with her. There I was, with my immediate supervisor in attendance, ill-prepared to dazzle them with information about the goals of Peace Corps. Fortunately, however, the creativity Gods smiled on me and my " Dog and Pony Show" was launched!
In Georgia, all students refer to their teacher as "Mast". That is short for mastavlabeli, which means "teacher" in Georgian. Imagine an atmosphere where every kid is beckoning you as "Mast". The thought seemed to me to be very impersonal. After all, I wasn't going to call them "student". To avoid the uncomfortable feeling associated with being called "Mast", I had asked the kids in my camp to call me "Miss Lisa" ( the counter to "Measter Mark"), and I decided to go with that in school as well. "Mrs. Lebowitz" seemed way too long, "Lisa" seemed too informal and "Mrs. Lisa" didn't have the proper ring to me. Maybe it is my way of feeling more youthful. Soon after adopting that name though, the teachers also started calling me "Miss Lisa", but fortunately I nipped that in the bud and have since encouraged them to call me just plain ole "Lisa".
In my introductory lesson, I used a world map and my cell phone as classroom "realia" and tried to elicit from the kids the reasons why a middleaged, retired teacher might want to say good bye to her family and friends and come to Georgia for 27 months.

1. So Americans can learn about Georgians.
2. So Georgians can learn about Americans.
3. To let the Georgian students work with a native English speaker.

After my presentation, the kids posed questions to me. The rules were simple: "You may ask me anything except how much I weigh." I had to whisper in the ears of many who were paralyzed by the thought of asking a question. Ask me, "Do you have a husband?". Ask me," Do you have a dog?". We then pulled our chairs in a circle and had a pretend conversation "at the cafe".The most interesting question by far was put forth by two girls in different classes. "What is your dream?". When you see how poor these kids are and feel the discouragement of their parents with life in general, it's uplifting know that the kids still have hope and dreams for a better future. Things are changing in Georgia, and these kids represent the future of this country. The question session was a lot of fun and when the bell rang before all the questions were answered the kids actually groaned, which made me happy. After hugs and kisses all around, the class was off to run and socialize in the hall. I felt happy that they were enthused. I know this initial enthusiasm will wear off, but nonetheless, I am excited about working with all the students who seem so excited to learn English. A number of the students found it very difficult to formulate a question in English, and surprisingly, their teachers were eager to pass them by, but I made a point of trying to get something from everyone. Eventually everyone asked a question, although the contribution of some may have been as little as two words out of a five word sentence.
Following the trauma of teaching my first class, I delivered 3 more classes and that was it for the day. I took a wilted but beautiful bouquet I was given by one of my co-English teachers and left. Mark's office is only 2 big blocks away. He had texted me during the morning to see how it was going, but at the time I was too busy to respond. After I left the school grounds I leaned against a tree and texted him back. We met under a big tree in the park for lunch. If you have been following our blog, this was the same day as Mark's legendary blisters so it is better said that he "hobbled over to the park". At any rate, he totally enjoyed the rendition of my first day at school, and he filled me in with what was happening at his office . That is our life here in Zugdidi. After lunch, Mark went back to his office, and I walked home in the blazing sun with my umbrella for heat protection as all the women do here. I got home at 4 pm, just in time to dive into my book, "Ahab's Wife", and escape. I am happy. I am finally doing what I came here to do.


Typical seventh form students














Hanging by the water fountain between classes. No such thing as a line in Georgia!













Typical chaos in the halls between classes.

Brothers on the way to school.

My director Nino (left) and some of the other English teachers.

Campers at my English camp during the two weeks before the school year began.