I'm Not in California Anymore.

So let me tell you about the greatest game of red rover ever! On Saturday we were met by our school representatives at the hotel and it went down almost exactly like I was told it would…Teachers on one side and Georgia on the other. We were each called one by one as everyone clapped and we met our new principals in the middle of the Sheraton lobby. I was greeted with big smiles and what could have only been Georgian compliments based on the looks on their faces and the excitement in their voices…and if they weren’t compliments, well, I don’t speak Georgian and neither do you so we’re just going to assume the bestJ. So we grabbed my bags, including the lovely gift of wine and chocolates from the President himself, and made like a herd out of the hotel.

Red rover, red rover, send Rachele right over!

My belongings and I, along with 4 other teachers and 9 Georgians, were loaded into the marshut’ka (mini-van) and began our journey to Kakheti. I was fortunate enough to travel with a few of my friends, which helped ease the pangs of separation as we headed into the unknown. Now let me tell you, we all know that Europeans are crazy drivers…well, I found out that they got this technique from the Georgians. I thought maybe something was up from the few cab rides I had during the week but after my first marshut’ka experience it is indeed true that Georgian drivers are the reason the “oh sh!t” handle was put into cars. They are fast, aggressive, and nothing can seem to get in their way. But at least they maintain common courtesy and honk profusely at the car they’re going to pass…on the wrong side of the road. I find it best to just trust that they know what they’re doing and keep my eyes closed!

So after about an hour in the van we suddenly stopped in front of a roadside stand. The drivers got out and proceeded to light up a cigarette. We didn’t really know what was going on but figured, hey, at least they’re polite enough not to smoke inside the vehicle (everyone in Georgia smokes everywhere!). So we patiently waited for 5 minutes when suddenly the warmest, freshest bread (along with some cheese, but never mind that), was being passed back to us! It was hot off the fire, so neatly wrapped in Georgian newspaper, and I’m pretty sure I ate an entire baguette to myself. Georgian hospitality never rests. Delicious!

We hopped back on the road for another 45 minutes or so and then stopped again for a bathroom break. I figured I might as well go since we were there and I really had no idea how long until we reached our final destination…big mistake. Lani, Joanna and I proceeded through what looked like a rundown concentration camp to a room with stalls, and behind each door, a hole in the ground. Welcome to my first encounter with a Turkish toilet. I knew this time would come, and I know it won’t be my last, but I just wasn’t prepared for this. Holding our breaths, the three of us stood there, looked at the toilets, looked at each other, and then erupted into hysteric laughter, as that really was the only reaction one could have when seeing the state of the room we were in. And even though laughter usually encourages my bladder, I just couldn’t do it. I gave it a shot…I hovered…but nothing. Next time.

Turkish toilet

Roadside market

Fast forward about an hour and we arrived in Gurjaani to drop off Lani, Megan and Justine in their new hometown. I have no idea where exactly we left them but there was a small welcome party so assumed it was the right place. On a side note, if you haven’t figured out by now, those we were traveling with spoke only Georgian (one spoke a little english), and us English. Even after a 5 day language course we’re pretty much clueless when it comes to the language so we just follow their lead with “I don’t know what’s going on” facial expressions. 

So we left the girls and continued on our way for another 45 minutes to Joanna’s village Alvani in Akhmeta. We were greeted by her host mother with a welcome that reminded me of the mom in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. She hurried down the front walk, threw her arms around Joanna and said "Welcome to my home!" in the best English she could muster...it was the sweetest thing and I seriously almost cried (shocker)! We all proceeded inside for my first experience of a Supra (Georgian feast). It was me, Joanna, her host mom and 2 host sisters, 2 principals, the resource director, one of the English teachers, and the 3 men driving the marshut’ka…I’m guessing we knew them. Food was piled on the table, wine was poured and the toasting (in Georgian) began. They toasted to me and Joanna, our principals, the host family, and the country. Since it was 3 in the afternoon and we had to continue on our way, the supra was very mellow.  So I bid farewell to Joanna and climbed back in the van. I was now the sole English speaking person in the group…deep breaths.

Drive to Akhmeta

We drove on for another 15 minutes and arrived in the “main town” where I would be living and working. Now, the main roads between villages are paved, but not where the houses are, and since it had just snowed, we were working with mud roads here. I guess this is what it means to be living in the "region." I don’t really know how to describe the exterior conditions of the homes, and I especially don’t want to offend anyone, so let’s just say that I now understand the meaning of a developing country. And there are dogs, chickens and cows wandering the roads…the dogs are wild and the cows are pets. I’m gonna venture to say that the phrase “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” rings true in this case. We pulled up to my house which is walled in from the street and has a big green gate.

My Street

Outside the entrance of my house 

I was greeted by my host mom, Iza, her son Giorgi (25), his wife Nana (24) and their 8-month-old little girl, Lizi…adorable! They showed me my new room and then sat me at the table for more food, wine and toasts. We were joined by my fellow travelers and a family friend, Fati (Fatima), who was there to translate (Yeah!). Iza doesn’t speak any English and Giorgi speaks VERY little, however he is fluent in Spanish so we usually try to make that route work…I’ve actually constructed a sentence now using English, Georgian and Spanish to get a message across...and it workedJ!

Iza was the Tamada, toastmaster of the supra, and made me feel so welcome by first toasting my family back home. She said she knows it’s hard to be away from family and was so grateful to mine for allowing me to come live with her family and help her country…I was very touched by this gesture as usually the first toast goes to the country or whatever they’re celebrating. She continued with a few more toasts and by the end of the supra I knew that I would be in good hands.

From what I know so far, Iza is pretty remarkable. She’s the head of the NGO, Kakheti Regional Development Foundation, and they distribute funds from the UN to the Chechen refugees in the nearby Pankisi valley. They implement activities, classes and trainings to help these refugees improve their socio-economic wellbeing. Fati translates their reading materials to English and she’s hoping to practice and improve her English with me since it isn’t her first (or second, or third) language. I’ve already helped her a little…she tells me what they’re trying to say and I help construct the sentence in proper English…I’m honestly very excited about this. Not only am I helping this international organization, but it’s an unexpected boost for my resume! And they’re all very eager to learn English…they even want me to teach Lizi, who I’m pretty sure is the only one that can understand me most of the timeJ.

Ok, so talk about the longest blog ever and I only covered my arrivalJ! Needless to say, there will be more to come soon. I’m doing well, my living arrangements are comfortable, I have Internet in my room and a toilet in the houseJ, my host family is great, and I really can’t eat another bite of food! Kakheti is beautiful and I'm pretty much surrounded by the snow covered Caucasus mountains. I can't wait for spring when the leaves and the grapes start growing! 

Thank you all for the well wishes and continued support. Before I go, I’d like to leave you with a quote that Giorgi told me while we were practicing his English…Living is the art of loving; loving is the art of caring; caring is the art of sharing; and sharing is the art of living…Georgians are some pretty great peopleJ.

All my love to you from Georgia,

Rachel

(photos below)

My home :)

My front yard

The chicken coup!

Our neighbor's house

My bedroom :)

View from my bedroom...not too shabby