Everywhere I go, I see people playing ნარდი (“nardi”), known in English as backgammon. Men and women, children and the elderly–everyone knows how to play, and just about every family owns a backgammon set. It’s popular everywhere in Georgia, but it’s especially popular here in Kutaisi, where it’s not uncommon to see clusters of old men playing on the side of the street.
I recently played in a nardi tournament at my school. Long story short, I was massacred (I still want a rematch with the principal), but the experience got me thinking about how the game kind of parallels what life is like in Georgia. As a foreigner, I’m sure I don’t have a complete picture, but it’s an interesting way to look at things, and I don’t think it’s completely off base.
So anyways, here’s my theory on how life in Georgia is like a game of backgammon:
1: Everything is driven by chance.
In backgammon, every turn starts with a roll of the dice. Likewise, in Georgia, people tend to approach life like a game of chance. Good things happen, bad things happen, but you’re never totally in control of your own destiny. When your luck turns sour, the best thing you can do is just resign yourself to it until things get better.
One thing I’ve noticed about my host family is that they play the lottery almost every day. Even when they aren’t playing, they usually tune in to see the results, probably just from force of habit. I don’t know if every family is like this, but there are stands to buy lottery tickets in every major district of the city, and every kiosk sells them.
It’s not just the lottery, either–there are tons of casinos too. In fact, Georgia is a very popular tourist destination for Israelis simply because of all the gambling. That doesn’t mean that everyone in the country is a hardcore gambler, though–but if life is ultimately a game of chance, you might as well put a line or two in the water, right?
2: Skill is the ability to manipulate chance in your favor.
Even though backgammon is essentially a game of chance, there’s a lot of strategy to it too. The key is to maximize your own options while limiting the options of your opponent. It’s all about knowing when to move aggressively, and when to protect your own interests.
Likewise, even though Georgians put a lot of trust in luck, they also know that it’s better to make your own luck than to wait for luck to find you. While my host family does spend a little bit on the lottery, they spend a lot more on physical improvements and their kids’ education. My host dad works until 8pm every night, sometimes later. They aren’t rich, but they’re taking advantage of opportunities their parents didn’t have, and making sure their children have more opportunities than they did.
3: No amount of skill can change the established pattern.
There’s not a whole lot of variation in backgammon. Every game starts with the same setup, and follows the same general pattern: block your opponent while doing your best to advance. Once your last piece passes your opponent’s last piece, it becomes a race to see who can get all their pieces home first. Short of changing the rules, there’s really no way to break the game.
Likewise, life in Georgia is still very much about tradition. If you were born in Kutaisi, you’ll probably die in Kutaisi. If your parents are Orthodox, then that’s what you are, too. If you’re a woman, you live under a certain set of restrictions and expectations. Likewise, if you’re a man, there are certain things you’re expected to do to prove your manhood.
No matter how much Georgia changes to become part of the modern world, it’s an ancient country with a very, very long memory. Most social norms aren’t going to change overnight, and some of them probably won’t change at all. While this might seem incredibly stifling to us in the West, it does have its advantages, such as offering everyone a sense of identity and giving them a place where they know that they belong.
So that’s my theory. I don’t know if this is why backgammon resonates so much with the people here, but it’s a fun way to look at it. Now I just need to figure out which game is the most like life in the US. Poker? Monopoly? Dungeons & Dragons?
Some of you asked for a writing update, so I figure I might as well do a quick post on my current projects and where they are. I’ve also been experimenting with my daily schedule a bit, so it would probably be good to blog about that as well.
Right now, the main project taking up all of my attention is the 3.0 draft of Heart of the Nebula. It’s a direct sequel to Bringing Stella Home, and continues the story from James McCoy’s point of view, five years later. I’m making a lot of changes, toning down the romantic subplot and emphasizing the more interesting social and ethical issues. When I’m through, I think it will be completely different from the first couple of drafts, but in a way that’s truer to the spirit of the first book.
I’ve only been managing about 500 to 1,500 words per day, though, which is abysmally low compared to my usual word count. Part of that is because I’m throwing out entire sections and drafting new ones from scratch, but the more significant part is that I don’t have as much mental space for writing as I did back in the States.
Basically, moving to a foreign country and starting a new career has taken a lot more out of me than I thought it would. I teach 18 lessons per week, some with as many as 30 or 35 kids, across grades 1 through 12. Culturally, everything is completely different too. So far, the shock hasn’t been too bad–I really love it out here in Georgia–but it’s made the writing a little bit more difficult than I’d expected.
I have a lot of free time, though, so that’s not a problem: the problem is clearing my mind and keeping the creative juices fresh. Here’s how I’m going to do it:
Limit internet time. As tempting as it is to turn to the familiarity of the internet, it’s a huge time-suck and doesn’t really do anything for the culture shock. A much better thing for that would be to spend more time reading. From now on, I’m going to limit myself to one internet session per day, no longer than 2 hours (more if there’s something I actually need to do).
Get out more. I get cabin fever very easily, and it’s only gotten worse now that I’m in a foreign culture. Fortunately, there are tons of places to explore, and in my local neighborhood I’m kind of a celebrity (hey look, it’s the American! Let’s chase him and shout ‘hello’!). The prime time for this is the late afternoon, when everyone’s out and things are still open. If I check the internet right after school and get out immediately after, I think that will help me better to focus.
Get up early to write in the morning. I tried this last week, and it was a great way to get focused and build more momentum. Even if I only manage a couple hundred word, it gets me thinking about the story for the rest of the day, which makes it easier to pick up in the afternoon and evening.
So that’s the plan for now. My goal is to finish Heart of the Nebula before the end of May, which is going to require a significant change of pace. It should be pretty straightforward, though, and after this draft it shouldn’t need too many more revisions before it’s ready to publish. If all goes well, I foresee a publishing date sometime in the fall or winter.
Do you have any other ideas for ways to manage creativity in a totally foreign culture? If so, I’d love to hear it–that’s my biggest struggle right now.
Orthodox Easter is April 15th, and in Georgia, most places take off four or five days for vacation. In typical Georgian fashion, we didn’t know for sure how many days we had off until a couple of weeks before the break came up, but fortunately that was time enough to find out where some of the other TLGers in Kutaisi were going and tag along with them.
Our group consisted mostly of TLGers and embassy staff from Tbilisi, friends of my friends in Kutaisi who came out at the same time last year. For 300 GEL (about $185 USD), we got a private marshrutka and tour guide for four days, 3- and 4-star hotels each night, breakfast and dinner, and tickets to some of the more interesting sights between Reza and Trabzon. Multiple entry visas were $20 USD each, and the exchange rate in Turkey was quite favorable.
We met up at the McDonalds on Tchavtchavadze Street at noon and went up to see Motsameta Monastery. In spite of the fact that it’s so close to Kutaisi, this was my first time going up there, and I must say I was quite impressed! The monastery is situated on the top of an imposing cliff where the Tsqaltsiteli River makes a sharp bend. The English translation of the river is “red water,” named for the two Christian martyrs who were executed on the site of the monastery by the Muslims shortly after their conquest of the region.
Some priests hanging out by the chapel on Easter Sunday.Detail on the door handles to the monastery chapel. Georgians take their grapes quite seriously.
I spent most of the vacation relaxing, so I didn’t take many spectacular photos. But Motsameta was really fantastic–I’ll have to go back sometime to do it justice. There’s a forest trail that goes between Motsameta and Gelati Monastery, where David the Builder is buried, and I’d like to hike that before I come back to the states.
Next, we drove down to Batumi on the Black Sea, where we spent some time wandering the Botanical Gardens. It’s a really nice place, with trees and plants from all over the world right up against the seashore. Very peaceful. It’s pretty big, though–I walked for almost an hour along the main road without getting to the end. And of course, there are many places along the way where you can stop and wander around for a while.
The Black Sea, visible through the trees of the Batumi Botanical Garden.Some red and white rose bushes. There are tons of flowering plants in the gardens, so spring is a really great time to see the place.A small spring in the middle of the Batumi Botanical Gardens. There are springs like this scattered across Georgia.
Batumi is an interesting place–not as big a city as Kutaisi, but with more money, hotels, casinos, and resorts. It’s right on the Black Sea, but the snow-capped mountains of the Lesser Caucasus range are right behind it, so you’ve got a big mix of climates and landscapes all within a short drive.
Batumi, Adjara Republic, Georgia.
The other TLGers were impressed to see that the roads are actually paved–apparently, there’s been a lot of construction in the past year or so. It’s not completely finished, but walking around downtown is quite pleasant. We hunted for ice cream and eventually settled on a smoke-filled cafe on some random street corner. Good times.
We spent the next morning crossing the border, a process that was surprisingly disorganized. The system on the Georgian side was pretty straightforward, but on the Turkish side we had to wait on the curb for a long time, with giant eighteen-wheelers driving past us and the sun beating down. It wasn’t too bad, though–definitely not worse than the Allenby crossing.
We drove for an hour, stopped in Reza for tea and lunch, then went on along the seashore to Trabzon. In Reza, I stood at the edge of a garden overlooking the city when the call to prayer started up. It brought back a lot of fond memories. 🙂 Turkey is definitely a Muslim country, with mosques everywhere, pencil minarets dotting the cityscape like steeples, and women dressed in colorful hijabs.
View of Rize from Rize Castle.Interior of the Little Haggia Sophia at Trabzon. It’s a pretty modest sized basilica, now a “museum” which basically means it’s not used for religious services. It needs renovation.
Compared to Kutaisi, Trabzon is a large and well-developed city. The downtown marketplace was packed, but the streets were well-paved, the shops were quite nice, there weren’t any beggars and basic amenities weren’t hard to find. Almost no-one spoke English, which made communication difficult since I don’t speak any Turkish, but it was surprisingly easy to make friends. We stopped for lunch at one place, and after a very difficult time trying to explain that we didn’t want any meat in our sandwiches (most of the girls in our group were vegetarian), the restaurant owner actually let us eat for free!
Some of the other volunteers had asked that we go to an American style mall, so we spent a few hours there before going to the hotel. I must confess, I was bored out of my mind. Nothing but clothes stores and Turkish fast food restaurants–it was identical to an American mall in almost every way. I suppose that that’s why the others wanted to go there–after spending a year in Georgia, they probably craved someplace that feels like home. But I’m not there yet, so that particular excursion was kind of boring.
The next day, we went up to Sumela Monastery in the mountains, and from there to Lake Uzungol. The monastery was quite cool, because it’s perched literally on the side of a cliff, almost 500 meters above the valley floor. Unfortunately, the friezes and other artwork was quite damaged, so I didn’t feel compelled to take many pictures, but it was fun to hike up there and see the view. A bunch of Turks laughed at the way I ran up the path, and the fountain at the top had some FREEZING cold mountain runoff. It was a lot of fun.
Sumela Monastery from the top of the canyon. The surrounding countryside is absolutely gorgeous.Inside the monastery complex itself. Many of the buildings are new additions, but there are some original structures.
At the lake, I bought a piece of Turkish silverware for my host mom that ended up being a huge hit. A lot of the shops were really touristy, but it was fun anyway and the landscape was quite beautiful. Reminded me a bit of Colorado. We stayed in a mountain cabin and the bedsheets smelled like cigarettes, but otherwise it was quite comfortable.
Adjaruli khatchapuri. If you eat this every day, you will have a short and happy life.
On the way back, we stopped in Batumi for dinner and had Adjaruli khatchapuri. Khatchapuri is the main Georgian go-to food–it’s basically cheesy bread with a thick, doughy crust. In Adjara, though, they take it a couple of steps further.
Immediately after taking the bread out of the oven, they crack an egg in the center, which gets cooked a little by the heat but otherwise remains raw. They then take a huge slab of butter and plop it right in the center of the yolk, where it melts in and gets everywhere. To eat it, you stir the egg around and work your way inward from the crust, dipping the bread in the molten gooey center. Between the cheese, the egg, the butter, and the bread, you get a pretty heavy meal–delicious, but heavy.
After that, we took to the road again, talking about all sorts of stuff and having a generally good time. Our tour guide was a great guy, and we had a lot of fun racking his brain. The other lady from the company was quite delightful, and talked with me a lot about Racha, growing up in Kutaisi, her experiences living in the Persian Gulf, etc. It was a long ride, but it went by pretty fast, and we pulled into Kutaisi around 9pm.
All in all, a fun, relaxing vacation, and a good chance to get out and see a little more in this part of the world. Turkey was nice, but I have to admit, I felt a bit like I was coming home when we crossed the border back into Georgia. It’s not as clean or developed, but it’s got a feel to it that isn’t quite like anything else. I like it.
მოტაცება (pronounced mot’atseba) is the Georgian word for bride kidnapping, as opposed to regular kidnapping, which takes a different word. It’s an ancient practice in the Caucasus region that doesn’t happen as much as it used to, but still happens, especially in the rural areas. Today, most Georgians condemn it, but there’s still a whole slew of lingering cultural subtexts that can be very difficult for a Westerner (like me) to understand and navigate.
The video clip at the top is from a Georgian comedy program (named, aptly enough, “Comedy შაუ”), and does a pretty good job illustrating how mot’atseba works. Of course, the genders have been reversed–50% of Georgian humor is cross-dressing, and the other 50% is cross-dressing with slapstick–but everything else is pretty accurate. Like I said in a previous post, it’s like a weird game of capture-the-flag involving sex and arranged marriage, where the flag is the girl.
This is how it works: boy meets girl. Boy decides to marry girl. Boy gets his friends together and kidnaps the girl (with or without her consent), holding her captive overnight. The next morning, boy contacts girl’s parents to ask for girl’s hand in marriage.
Since the girl has been held overnight, the implication is that she’s been raped (which may or may not be true). Therefore, to avoid a scandal which could tarnish the family’s reputation, the parents will usually marry their daughter off as quickly as possible. However, if the girl can escape, or the girl’s brothers can rescue her before nightfall, the crisis can be averted.
I first heard about mot’atseba from this post on Georgia On My Mind, back when I was looking into TLG about a year ago. It disturbed me a little, but not enough to dissuade me from coming to Georgia. A couple of weeks ago, however, I learned that that was how my host parents got married.
Here’s the thing, though: they both seem to remember it kind of fondly. In fact, when my host mom saw the clip from Comedy შაუ, she couldn’t stop laughing. Her mom lives with them now, and from time to time they go out to visit his family in the village, so it looks like everyone’s on pretty good terms.
So what the heck happened?
Here’s the story, as best as I can piece it together. They were introduced by his sister, who was her coworker at the hospital. After a month, he got together with some friends and took her without violence to his family’s house out in the village. She was surprised and upset at first, of course, but her parents gave their consent, and so they were married the next day by a magistrate. Now, they’ve got four kids–a huge family, by Georgian standards–and seem to be pretty happy together.
As a Westerner, it blows my mind that a strong, healthy family can come out of something as violent as an act of kidnapping. Indeed, I have yet to be convinced that that’s a normal outcome. However, after asking around and doing some research, I’ve come to realize that mot’atseba isn’t a black and white issue: there are all sorts of cultural subtexts that make the issue much more complicated.
The key to understanding how all this works is the following proverb, which underscores the entire Georgian concept of gender roles and the differences between men and women:
If a woman says no, she means maybe. If she says maybe, she means yes. If she says yes, she is not a woman.
From this, two things follow:
1: Women are fickle, therefore men should be assertive.
As a man, I see this all the time. All three of my co-teachers are women, and all of them constantly defer to me, even though they have far more professional experience than I do. When I had some pretty serious differences over teaching methodologies with one of them, she suggested that I take over the next lesson and teach it without her interference, so that she could get a better idea that way. This isn’t the case with the female volunteers–many of them complain about how hard it is to get anyone to take their suggestions seriously.
2: A woman can never say no.
If “no” is constantly interpreted as “maybe,” then it follows that no one (or at least, no man) is going to believe that a woman is even capable of saying “no.” This turns the whole concept of rape into a nebulous gray area, unlike the United States, where women have a lot more power at least in terms of the law.
This is not to say that in Georgian culture, women are doormats or property (even though that’s what some TLGers claim). Women have a number of support networks, such as family, friends, and other women, and can use these networks to ward off unwanted attention. When I asked my host sister if she’s worried that a mot’atseba would ever happen to her, she said no, because if it did, her three brothers would kick some serious ass.
On top of all this, Georgians have no real concept of casual dating. If a girl and a guy are seeing each other, they’re either married or about to be married. This shows up in the way they use Facebook and other social networks: instead of listing themselves as “in a relationship,” the girl will give her password to the guy she’s dating. And they don’t just do it because the guy demands it–when my host sister was seeing someone, he asked her if she wanted to give her password to him, as if that was the natural next-step in their relationship. From the way she told me, she seemed to be worried that she’d made a mistake by telling him no. Of course, I told her she’d made the right decision!
Combine all of these together, and you should start to get a clearer picture of some of the subtext surrounding mot’atseba.
When I asked my first co-teacher about it, she said it was only an ancient practice and absolutely didn’t happen anymore. When I brought up rape and asked if that was also a part of it, she was horrified and didn’t want to talk about it. However, when I asked if it’s possible for a happy marriage to come of it, she kind of smiled a little and said that if the woman likes it, then why not?
My second co-teacher was much more straight with me. Yes, it happens occasionally, though it was a lot more “fashionable” about twenty or thirty years ago. No, it’s not romantic. Yes, a lot of the marriages aren’t very happy, which is why so many of them end in divorce. She told me that one of her friends from college was married through mot’atseba, and that she knows of at least one case in our school where an 8th grader was kidnapped and married. However, under President Sakashvili, mot’atseba is now a serious crime, so it’s not as common as it used to be.
My third co-teacher’s answer was a lot sketchier. The first time I asked about it was in passing, as she walked in on the conversation I was having with my first co-teacher. When I asked her about rape, she laughed and said “well yes, of course it happens!” as if that wasn’t a big deal. Later, however, she sat me down and said quite seriously that mot’atseba is a horrible thing, that it’s a criminal act, that it doesn’t happen anymore, etc etc.
However–and this was perhaps the most illuminating thing–she said that sometimes, when a guy and a girl are in love, but she’s being wishy-washy and non-committal, he’ll sweep her off her feet and carry her off. In fact, that was what happened with her: her boyfriend wanted to marry her, but she kept putting it off, so one day he tricked her into getting in the car and told her “all right, enough is enough–we’re getting married this weekend.” And they did.
When I asked her if that was mot’atseba, she said no, but I think the subtext was similar. A real man knows how to assert himself and take what he wants. Since a real woman will never say yes, sometimes you just have to man up and tell her how it’s going to be. And don’t worry if she says no at first–she only says that because she doesn’t really know what she wants yet. She’ll come around eventually.
It sounds pretty horrible, but that seems to be how it works. And really, there are gradations of it. Most Georgians will agree that it’s wrong for a guy to kidnap a girl he doesn’t know so that he can rape her and force her to marry him. But if the guy and the girl know each other, and are already pretty serious (ie seeing each other at all), and he wants to speed things up–or, alternately, if she knows her parents would never say yes otherwise–that’s when everyone speaks of it with a wink and a nod.
And really, can we say that our culture’s problems are any less abhorrent? What about teenage pregnancy? Secret abortions? Date rape? At least with mot’atseba, the guy is trying to marry the girl, not just sleep with her and walk away. If it’s just sex that the guy is after, there are a lot more easier ways to get it than risking a prison sentence.
So is it “wrong”? I don’t know if it’s possible to say yes or no, except on a case by case basis. My host sister knows a girl who was kidnapped at age 12 and had a baby the year after. I’m pretty sure that’s wrong. But when I told her what would happen to that guy in the states–that he would go on the registered sex offender list and spend the rest of his life ostracized and unable to find work–she thought that that was wrong too. And as for my host parents, well, it seemed to work out well for them.
I don’t know. But either way, it’s definitely an interesting anthropological experience.
From what I hear from my friends, it’s been a pretty mild winter back in the States. Here in Georgia, though, it’s been a much different story.
I think we’ve had only three sunny days since I arrived here in Kutaisi almost four weeks ago. The natives tell me that this is highly unusual. The temperature hovers right around 0 degrees Celsius, which means the snow is wet and melts extremely fast. It’s pretty for a day or two, then it turns to rain again, and that means mud…lots and lots of mud.
During a break in the snow, I ventured outside to take a few pictures of my neighborhood. In a couple of weeks, the weather will hopefully be warmer and things will look a lot different, but still, I thought it would be good to give you guys an idea of what this place looks like.
My host family's apartment. We live on the second floor, which is good since there isn't an elevator.
I live in the Avtokarkhana settlement, near the old Soviet auto factory. The apartments are about 50 years old, and haven’t been renovated much since then. It’s a poor neighborhood, but it’s comfortable enough, with all of the basic amenities like water and heating.
An abandoned bus along the road to my school. My host father has some choice words to describe his Russian-made vehicle.In Soviet Russia, puddle splash YOU!
The roads are pretty nasty; they haven’t been repaved in decades, and the potholes are so deep you practically need a raft to get across the street. Most of the locals wear rubber boots during the rainy season, but I recently treated my boots with beeswax and that seems to be doing fairly well. Besides, after a while, you figure out where the stepping stones are, and then it’s not so bad.
One of the local free-range chickens. There's a cow, too, but she was staying out of the snow.Where the chickens go to keep warm. My host family laughed when I showed them this picture.
Even though Kutaisi is a fairly large city, I get the feeling that there’s still a few lingering elements of the village mentality. How else would you explain all the free-range chickens that people still keep? The school is within walking distance, as are the stores where we buy our bread, and even though the pharmacy is a short drive away, I could probably walk there in fifteen or twenty minutes.
The local church. It seems pretty small, but Georgians don't really have weekly worship meetings like we do in the States.
Because of the snow, I haven’t gotten out much in the past few weeks. I haven’t been stranded, though; there are about a dozen other TLG volunteers in the city, and we’ve had a few parties and get-togethers. Kutaisi is a small city, as far as cities go, but there are plenty of interesting places if you know where to look, and even in the dead of winter, it’s still quite pretty.
The road I walk back from school every day.
So yeah, that’s what my neighborhood is like. When the weather gets better, I’ll bring my camera to school and take some pictures of my school. I should also take some pictures of my host family’s apartment, come to think of it. What else do you guys want to see?
I had a realization as I was visiting Tbilisi this weekend: I love traveling.
I love standing beneath a tattered, windswept tarp surrounded by market stalls and people bartering in a language I barely understand. I love walking down the dusty pavement of a chaotic bus station in the developing world, and the confidence that comes from knowing how to navigate it.
I love the thrill of knowing that I’m on the other side of the world from most of my friends and family. I love laughing at the email alerts I get for all the mundane, dead-end jobs like office support or market research that I used to chase after so desperately. I love being in a place where I can make a real difference in people’s lives.
I love never quite knowing exactly what’s going on, but getting along anyway. I love taking things one day at a time and letting tomorrow take care of itself. I love being surrounded by strange and interesting sights, and by people whose hospitality amazes and humbles me. I love entering an alien culture as an outsider and becoming part of the society before I leave.
Is this all just part of the “honeymoon” phase of culture shock? Perhaps, but this isn’t the first time I’ve traveled. In many ways, the experience here in Georgia reminds me of my experience in Jordan, and I think I’ve been able to adapt better because of it. In spite of all the cultural differences, I feel quite at home here. Kutaisi is a great place, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the people and the city better.
One of the really interesting things about Georgian culture is the way the people’s eyes light up when I tell them I’m a writer. They seem to have a lot of respect for that profession, more than in the states. I haven’t been writing a whole lot other than in my journal, but things are more or less falling into place at the school and I think I’ll have a lot of time for other pursuits. Hopefully, by this time next week, I’ll be able t start writing regularly again.
In the meantime, all of these cultural experiences are really great, and I think they will enrich my writing considerably. I’m not thinking much about that now, of course, but I’m sure I’l come away from this place with a wonderful pool of experiences and images to pull from. But right now, I’m about to pass out and crash, so I’d better call this a blog post and send it up with the others. Good night!
This is the city where I'm going to be living for the next 4+ months.
So the training period for TLG is finally over, and I’ve received my assignment: I’m in Kutaisi, the second largest city in Georgia! It’s about a four hour haul from Tbilisi; I spent it cramped on a bus with my host-mom and brother watching Georgian sketch comedy, with rampant cross-dressing and men getting bride-napped by women. Hilarious.
I live in an awesome dilapidated Soviet-era apartment with a fairly large family: mother and father, grandmother, and three kids ages 17, 15, and 9. The father works full-time as a welder and the mother works part-time as a nurse. There’s another son, age 18, but he’s in Tbilisi for college. Only the kids speak English, but
The other host brother showed me around Kutaisi today, and it was pretty interesting. This probably doesn’t make any sense, but it feels a little bit like something out of an Asterix comic, fast forwarded to the modern era. In any case, the city is really nice; cleaner and not as crowded as Tbilisi, with cobblestone streets and European-style buildings with a giant park in the middle.
I’ve already figured out how to get from my host-family’s apartment to the city center and back by marshrutka–if this were a video game, that would be an achievement. Crossing the street would also be an achievement, though it’s much harder in Tbilisi than it is here.
Some more pictures:
The old cathedral that overlooks Kutaisi. Built in 1003, destroyed sometime in the 18th century, it's being rebuilt now.My host brother Gura and me, overlooking the Rioni river.Didube bus station in north Tbilisi.A sleeping dog at the bazaar near the Tbilisi stadium. There are a lot of stray dogs here.Just one of the many Nutella stands at the Goodwill supermarket in Tbilisi (no relation to the American thrift store). Apparently, Georgians are crazy for chocolaty goodness.Some books at a booth in the bazaar. Most are in Georgian or Russian.
And the last one, just to show how ubiquitous Stephanie Meyer has become:
A shelf full of Stephanie Meyer's books literally on the other side of the world from her...this, my friends, is what success looks like.
So that’s what’s going on here in the land of the Kartulis. I haven’t been writing a whole lot, obviously, but once things settle into something of a routine, it shouldn’t be too hard to get back into things. Georgians have a way of managing time that, as a strongly perceiving ENTP, I actually find quite appealing. But more on that later; I should probably get to bed.
That’s Georgian for “good morning, Georgia.” It’s 7:20 am in Tbilisi right now, and I figure it’s time for an update before starting another day of TLG orientation.
So Georgia is a pretty interesting place so far. We haven’t seen too much of it, because we’ve been in the hotel most of the time doing various cultural and language training sessions, but last night we got out and hiked to the top of the fortress in Tbilisi which was very fun (unfortunately, I didn’t bring a camera–next time!). I’ve just about mastered the alphabet, though I can’t really read it well yet, and I know a few basic phrases that together with gestures and pantomimes will help me to get around. Very few people speak English; that’s what we’re here as part of the TLG program to change.
There are 33 other teachers in my group, and they’re all pretty awesome. Most are from the US, though there are a handful from Australia and New Zealand, which is fun. Most of us are the same age and in the same life position: young, single, fresh out of college, fairly well educated, free of major life responsibilities and looking for an adventure. For that reason, I think we’ve been able to bond fairly quickly, which is encouraging. I don’t know how often I’ll see most of these people once I’ve been placed, but I’ve been making friends and getting along fairly well.
So far, the people running the TLG program seem really on the ball. This is only the program’s second year, but it’s a major initiative from the government and has really started to have an impact. It’s humbling, actually, to see how much the Georgians are investing in us; the program might not pay as well as JET or EPIK (TEFL programs in Japan and Korea), but for a developing country like Georgia, it’s quite a lot. The country has been through a lot of tremendous difficulties, but they are pushing forward for a brighter and more prosperous future and I hope that I can make a difference and be a part of that.
In case you’re wondering whether I feel safe, don’t worry; everything in Tbilisi is fine. Yes, there has been a lot of saber-rattling with Iran, but that hasn’t directly affected Georgia other than the attempted attack on the Israeli diplomats (which could have happened anywhere). If the Western powers do undertake a major military operation in the area, Russia could become antagonistic, but I think Obama has made it clear that the US is going to stick with sanctions, at least for the foreseeable future. Personally, I think a military strike is unlikely. Slightly more disconcerting are the Russian anti-terrorist operations in Chechnya/Dagestan, but that seems to be an internal Russian affair, so don’t worry: I’m safe.
As far as the local culture goes, I think there will be some challenges but I should be able to get along quite well. It seems that the people have a strong sense of community, emphasize people and relationships over rules and regulations, are honest and outgoing, very passionate, and very friendly toward Americans.
The biggest challenge will probably be the alcohol; Georgians are very proud of their wine, and men are expected to be heavy drinkers (REALLY heavy drinkers–like, even the Australians are nervous about it). Hopefully, I’ll be able to communicate that I don’t drink because it’s forbidden in my religion, and they’ll respect that.
In general, the orientation has been preparing us for the worst (Turkish toilets, difficulties with co-teachers, host parents trying to marry us off), so a lot of us are nervous, but we’re also very excited. This is definitely an adventure! And three or four months from now, I think most of us will look back and laugh at how nervous and scared we were.
Honestly, I’m not scared at all. If not for the study abroad trip to Jordan, I probably would be, but so far the experience has been quite similar (though I’m sure it will be quite different). I’ll just keep my eyes open, be a gracious guest, work hard, and experience as much as I can of this beautiful and wonderful country.
So, I’m in Georgia now, writing this blog post from the hotel in Tbilisi where we’re having our orientation! The flight from New York went well, all my stuff made it alright, and I’m having a blast making new friends and playing the role of clueless foreigner!
There’s about twenty to twenty five of us here, most from the US, but a few from Australia, Canada, and one girl from Egypt. I met a whole bunch of them in the airport at JFK, including my roommate, who is from Alaska. Most everyone has had some travel/expat experience, though most of us are fresh out of college. A couple of us know Russian, but that’s about it–no one really knows Georgian.
The people here seem friendly enough, at least the ones we’ve attempted to speak with. I knew it was going to be disorienting not being able to speak the language, but…wow. There’s nothing quite like being the clueless foreigner. All I really know is that the word for “hello” sounds a lot like “gom jabbar.” The only thing for it is to abandon all shame and do your best to get out there and communicate, which my Alaskan roommate is really great at. I think we’re going to get along quite well.
That’s about all I can say for now. I hear that Georgia is in the American news now, with Iran trying to attack the Israeli embassy–yeah, that’s just what my parents needed to hear. :/ Don’t worry about me, though; I’m doing fine, and I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open and stay out of danger.
I’d write more, but I don’t want to plug in my computer until I have a surge protector, and I’ll need to conserve my battery if I want to write at all later today. I haven’t been writing hardly at all in the last few days, but of course I’ve been busy getting adjusted to all the new changes. I’ll try to do about 500 words a day minimum, but I’m not going to be too strict on it–I’ve got a lot of other things going on, after all.
That’s right–my travel journals from the 2008 study abroad to Jordan are now up on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and almost everywhere else! Here’s a complete list:
Kobo, Xinxii, and Sony should be coming in the next couple of weeks.
I initially set the price for the illustrated version at $4.95, but the transaction fees are a lot less than I thought they would be, so I’ve decided to drop it down to $2.99 with the unillustrated version. The changes should be reflected on Amazon and Barnes & Noble in a few hours.
I had an amazing, life-changing experience in Jordan, and after coming home, I had big dreams of turning my travel journals into a book. Because of ebooks and indie publishing, that dream is now a reality. From the description:
In 2008, Brigham Young University partnered with the University of Jordan to organize a summer study abroad program for its Arabic students. Scattered across West Amman in home-stays coordinated with Amideast, these students spent the summer living, studying, playing, and adventuring in the Middle East.
This is the travel journal of one of those students, and gives a detailed and intensely personal account of his time there. Besides the cultural experience of living with a Palestinian family in an Arab country, it tells the story of a critical juncture in his life, and how traveling across the Middle East helped to shape his personal growth, his spirituality, and his love for a people far from his American home.
Kind of cheesy, but yeah. 🙂 I hope you like it–please share it if you do!
I’m about to embark on another adventure, so this probably won’t be the last travel journal I do. Who knows–maybe a year or two from now, I’ll be doing a book like this on my experiences in Georgia. Or better yet, I’ll make it back to the Middle East and do a before-and-after. Whatever I do, I’ll be sure to keep you guys updated frequently–so definitely stay in touch!
