When in Armenia...part one!

Georgia celebrated two holidays on the 3^rd and 8^th of March - Mother’s Day and International Women’s day – so my travel partners-in-crime and I decided to turn it into a 6-day weekend and head to Armenia! We started the trip off by heading to T’bilisi on Wednesday night so we could catch the morning marshutka without too much difficulty. The highlight of my night was undoubtedly visiting the local McDonald’s…this may have been my first real sign of missing home. Say what you want about McD’s, but after complete separation from almost everything you’ve ever known, crossing under those golden arches was the closest thing to home I was going to find for awhile, and man how I missed it. Walking up, I was giddy like a 5-year-old who had just convinced their mom to treat them after a hard half day of kindergarten and ABC’s. After entering, I immediately broke into hysterical laughter for no reason other than pure joy, and I couldn’t stop. It was then that I knew I missed hamburgers, I missed French fries, I missed MY food, and I missed home. I absolutely have a new appreciation for this conglomerate (which I had given up at one point in my life) and now understand their international reign. Their global presence is not to fatten the world and make a buck off one fat kid at a time. No, they have spread their existence purely for the sake of those expats that are looking for a break from their new reality, and a taste of home :).

i'm home :)

We spent the night at Lani's family friend's flat...it was beautiful and we were able to walk around in our socks and even sleep without them! We received impeccable hospitality from Nino and her 11-year-old daughter, Tamuna, who both spoke perfect English. Nino, realizing that we've probably had our fill of Georgian food, had quite the international spread ready for our breakfast which included American style donuts and milk for our tea and coffee! It was just after 10 a.m. and we were basking in the warmth of central heating when we decided we should call the marshutka station to make sure the one to Armenia was scheduled to leave at 11 a.m. Nino made the call and was informed that it left at 10:30 a.m. and we were about 20 minutes away from the station! She was able to speak directly to the driver and get him to wait for us. As we hustled to get dressed and collect our belongings, Nino called a cab, packed us some snacks, and in 5 minutes had us out the door. Again, Georgian hospitality to the rescue! We made it just in time without  holding up our traveling comrades, and we took our seats in the back.

It cost 30 Lari each (about $18) for the 5 hour ride, and although bumping around in the back of the bus, it was made nice by the sun-filled mountainous views and nice conversation - which we freely have given that no one can understand us. It took just over and hour to reach the border when the driver stopped, said something in Armenian, and passengers started to get off. We figured we'd just follow the herd when the guy sitting in front of us turned around and said, "he said that you girls should go first since it will take you longer to get the visas."...perfect English. With stunned looks on our faces we said thank you and I began to rack my brain thinking 1) how did I not notice this guy?! and 2) do I need to remove my foot from my mouth for any reason??? It turns out there were two American guys sitting in front of us, both fluent in Armenian, wearing matching slacks, coats and name tags,  and were from Utah...Mormon Missionaries. After exchanging brief introductions we got our passports stamped at the Georgian border and proceeded across the bridge to Armenia. I've never crossed a border on foot before! We were like nomads :) We were the only passengers that had to get visas and this took a good 20 minutes to complete as border patrol was in no hurry.

the infamous marshutka.

The missionaries didn't hover but kept their eyes on us, and not in a creepy way, but in a just in case we need help kind of way. We made it through and continued our journey this time keeping our conversations quieter and sans religious discussion - which I'm fairly certain we touched on earlier. However, this topic became the pink elephant in the marsh and the three of us couldn't help but slip into talk about religion was involved in our upbringings - the three of us repping

I don't remember his exact response, but he politely turned around and that was that. I have to say this though, us discussing religion was like holding raw meat in front of a lion. If he hadn't tried to talk to us about his beliefs while on a religious mission, I might have judged him for not doing his job :) jokes aside, you can't blame the guy for trying. And even though he went 0-3, they still offered to help us get to our final destination...given that our Georgian was as valuable as our English here. We had the address and phone number of the friend we were staying with, but our phones didn't work. So they let us use their phone, caught us the right marsh (luckily we were going the same direction as them), told us where to get off, and even paid our fair. We may have different beliefs from them, but kindness is a universal language and we couldn't have been more grateful to them.

We spent our first night in Armenia "couch surfing" with an Iranian expat named Usher. We walked the city streets with him and his friend Nikholi, a New Zealand Swed that is teaching English there through European Volunteer Services. We saw Mother Armenia, a very large statue that over looks the city (used to be a statue of Stalin); Cascade; the Republic Square, where the Marriott is one of the seven major buildings, holding company with the likes of the National Gallery and Government House. Then we enjoyed a traditional Armenian dinner, each dish selected by Nikholi's student, Armon, who works in the Government's Economic department. After dinner, we headed back to Usher's where we didn't have the best night's sleep, so we decided to check into a hostel Friday morning...best decision ever! The hostel was impeccable from the cleanliness, to the staff, to the free coffee, tea, and breakfast, to the free Internet, and fairly quiet patrons. We ran into many other TLG-ers also staying there so it was like a mini reunion :)

clock tower in republic square.

armenian monument.

Friday we visited the genocide museum which was completely new news to me...don't remember learning about that in history class. 75% of the Armenian population was massacred in the early 1900's by the Turkish empire. I won't go into details as I'm definitely not educated enough on the topic, but visiting the museum was quite a moving experience. It was very informative, tactfully displayed, and not overdone. It told it's story and it still amazes me that something like that could happen. After the museum we stumbled into a huge bazaar underneath Yerevan's football stadium. We browsed for a bit and then headed out to dinner. We decided that our first night in Armenia would be dedicated to their traditional cuisine, but since it had been so long since we'd been in an actual city and eaten anything other than Georgian food, it was game on after that! So we had Chinese of Friday, Pizza on Saturday, and Mexican on Sunday! And I will give the Armenians props for doing all three fairly well. We were especially impressed with the Mexican. After dinner on Friday, we hit up a bar called Wild West with a new friend we met at the hostel who invited us to tour some historical churches with him on Saturday.

eternal flame in the genocide monument.

inside the genocide museum.

second genocide monument.

...Given that I write waaaaaay too much :) and it's been awhile since I posted something, I'm going to write about this trip in two posts. So if you're still interested...stay tuned!

No t'chame! A weekend in Telavi.

A few weekends ago I headed to the "city" to meet up with my friends for a weekend of English speaking leisure and eating at my own will. If there's any phrase we foreigners have learned beyond our formal greetings its "t'chame! t'chame!"..."eat! eat!" This is not a suggestion, it's an order...and they mean business. But after almost a month, I think I've figured out the trick to getting by with what your belly can hold:

1. Never help yourself. Always wait for them to offer that way it appears that you're giving in to the request.
2. Eat slowly. Apparently Georgians are known for eating fast so the sooner they're done, the sooner you are too...at half the amount.
3. Absolutely never have an empty plate! If you empty your plate they will fill it up and continue to do so. Once you see dishes are being cleared you've come to the final stretch and can finish what's on your plate. But never be too eager to finish...there's always tea and cake to follow.

Needless to say, it was nice to get away and escape strategic eating for a solid 48 hours. I arrived in Telavi on Friday afternoon and had some much needed catch up time with Megan and Lani (my roommates during training) in our swanky guesthouse (thanks to my host fam's connections), over a bottle of wine (compliments of the President of Georgia:). After a few hours of lounging, we headed down the street and met up with more friends at a local pizza joint. We all ordered pizza and when I asked for mine sans cheese (in Georgian :) the man look slightly perplexed as if I had my Georgian backwards, so Brigid assisted me by busting out some top notch charades - she pointed to me, said the word "cheese", and then threw her hands around her neck as if she were choking...Hilarious! And it worked! The man happily obliged and I had a perfect, no cheese pizza! Our dinner continued with lots of laughs, the occasional visit by an admirer in the next booth, and one of the cheapest dinner bills I've ever seen.

pure awesomeness.

Saturday morning we got an early start and had to bear the first real snowfall we've had since arriving almost 4 weeks ago. It  was nothing but white, and still snowing, so we layered up the clothing and headed out to visit King Erekle's Castle, an 18th century Kakheti King. We trudged through inches of snow as I cursed my jacket's detachable hood that was sitting on my couch back home in Akhmeta. We were the first guests of the day and after paying a whopping 1 Lari admittance fee had a private tour of the King's throne room, his office, and the room he was born in and died in. The woman escorting us from room to room didn't speak any English so Lani's Russian came in very handy...as it does on most occassions.

After quickly touring the castle, they motioned for us to go upstairs to the museum. We saw a lot of artifact-like stuff and I have no clue as to what most of it was, but it was really old, therefore pretty cool...my, how my standards are shifting :). Actually, Georgia is one of the first countries to adopt Christianity back in the 4th century, so there was quite the abundance of religious history there as well. We moved through the museum fairly quickly as there wasn't much lighting and absolutely no heat. My toes were partially numb at this point. We headed back downstairs and then outside where they motioned for us to go to the next building to see the art museum. So we hustled through the snow and came to a building with more light but just as little heat.

We were greeted by a Georgian woman, who to our suprise and delight, spoke English! Not only did she speak English but she had recently returned from visiting her son in Texas. We chatted with her for a few minutes and after she briefly talked about the art collection, she left us to tour the rooms. The art was lovely (I think) but at this point my feet and hands were completely frozen and although I tried to act interested, my mind could only focus on getting out of there with proper circulation. I believe the woman escorting us could see the look of hypothermia building on our faces because as we hurried down the stairs she called out to someone. When we reached the bottom, our English speaking friend appeared from a small room underneath the stairs and invited us in to warm up before we headed back into the snow. Without hesitation we followed her into a quaint little room where there were four other women and a wood burning stove! They put three chairs as close to the fire as possible and began to prepare tea for us. I am absolutely in love with Georgian hospitality. We visited with our new friends for about 30 minutes before braving the cold again. Now, it's one thing to be out and about in 0 degree, and below, weather (especially as a native Californian), but it is something else when you can't escape the unbearableness of it by stepping into a warm building or cafe. Gratefulness is an understatement of what we felt for these ladies. We owed them our toes :).

kind docent. megan. lani. me.

After the castle, we strolled the streets to see what Telavi had to offer, all the while realizing that our boots were not made for walking...in snow. It wasn't long before the snow was seeping through my soles and my feet were completely wet. What are ya gonna do? We really had no solution to that, so we just headed to the marshutka station to bid farewell to Megan who had to head back to Gurjaani to attend a wedding with her family. Lani and I then made our way around the bazaar to see what it was all about. There were all kinds of fish, raw meat (some of it still attached to the head), fresh fruit, homemade wine, and a plethora of other Georgian goods and foods. We stuck out just enough to get asked "Amerikeli?" but not enough to have our picture taken, phew!

bazaar. colorful in more ways than one!

We joined a handful of other teachers for dinner at the swanky hotel restaurant where they were staying.. And by "swanky" I mean it had heat so we were able to take off our coats and dry our socks. The eight of us shared traditional Georgian cuisine and left rather quickly when the male 4-top nearby proceeded to fight and make up over and over again. We weren't sure what was going on and although we found it entertaining, we decided it safer to retreat to our room when the pushing and falling over chairs began. Somehow this didn't bother the other patrons...typical Saturday night maybe???

Sunday morning we woke to snow, snow, and still snowing. But this time everything disappeared under the lovely white blanket...note to self: check weather report before traveling. Lani and I walked about 1 mile to the marshutka station and waited for a solid 30-45 minutes before our vans arrived. Thanks to one of the gentlemen waiting under the awning, I was able to find the one to Akhmeta. And by "find" I mean I had told almost everyone that I need to go to Akhmeta and when the bus arrived the man tapped me on the shoulder, pointed, and said "Akhmeta." So I quickly joined the herd to get a seat up front next to a woman and her son.

no joke.

It took about 50 minutes to get home with all the stopping for roadside pedestrians and accumulating up to 25 people in our 15 passenger van. Basically, the van stops anywhere if a person needs to get off or on. So when the van stopped a few streets short of the Akhmeta station to let some passengers off , I decided to hop out as well since it was closer to my house. When I handed the driver my money and thanked him for the ride, he looked at me like I was crazy. I completely stick out with my blonde hair and English speaking tongue, so they probably assume I'm an out-of-place traveler and must have someone meeting me at the station. So when I got out on the side of the road like I knew where I was going, I definitely threw him a curve ball. I knew where I was, however, I navigate off landmarks as I've yet to see a street sign, and things look muuuuuch different in the snow. Needless to say, it took me about 10-15 minutes in ankle deep snow to make it home by myself, yay!

my footprints on my street :)

I couldn't wait to get out of my snow soaked clothes and boots, but when I arrived...the power was out...and it stayed out for almost 48 hours. This meant that all of us convened in the kitchen/dining room where the burners on the stove were our only source of heat. Nana (my host sister-in-law) took Lizi to her parents' house for the night because they have a wood stove and our house was just too cold for a baby. With not much to do and no light to do it in, I went to bed early wearing 3 layers of clothing, mittens, a scarf, and my blankets over my head. You know it's cold when you can see your own breath it your bedroom. I was able to sleep comfortably, all things considered, but getting ready for work the next morning was just ridiculous. I can honestly say I have never been so cold in my life.

This adventure took place just over 3 weeks ago and the weather hasn't changed much since (part of the reason it's taken me so long to write this). It's continued to snow and we've lost power a few times, but that initial storm was definitely the worst. It's starting to lighten up and even rain a little bit...I think Winter is turning into Spring! At least this is the guess of a SoCal native whose never really seen a season "change." But after enduring this, I think I can officially call myself a Caucasian. I mean...I do live in the Caucasus which is home to the highest mountain in Europe...not sure if I mentioned that :)

Blind trust and toasts.

After teaching my one class of the day last Wednesday, I headed to Gurjaani to celebrate my friend Megan’s birthday supra style with her, her host family, and some other TLG friends. As I’ve mentioned before, the most popular mode of public transportation are marshutkas and that is how I intended to get there and back. Although they’re insanely affordable, they don’t operate on a strict schedule and stop running around 6 p.m., but I was prepared to travel an hour and a half each way for a couple hours of midweek fun! Seeing as how I still haven’t graduated to complete independence, one of the drivers at my host mom’s office drove me the 25 minutes to Telavi to put me on the right bus from there. I hadn’t been to Gurjaani before, so although I’m confident I would’ve managed on my own, I’m positive I wouldn’t have done it in such a timely manner.

I’m climbed in and took my seat in the back, popped in my headphones, and enjoyed the 50-minute ride. As we got closer to my destination, the man sitting next to me asked if I spoke Kartuli (Georgian), and I did a yes/no headshake and said t’sota (a little). He then said, “Dutch?” and I shook my head. I told him I was an English teacher in Akhmeta and he got a big smile on his face and told me he was a principal at a school in Gurjaani. What I gathered from the rest of our broken Kartuli/English/charades conversation was that he has 2 homes, one being in another town, and his school hasn’t received an English teacher yet. I was able to tell him where I’m from and that I was going to Gurjaani for my friend’s birthday. When we arrived at our stop I asked the man how much the marshutka ride was and he shook his head and showed me his money. He motioned for me to get out and then handed the driver his money. We climbed out and I tried to pay for my ride but the man refused to take it! The language barrier makes it very difficult to argue, and I've learned by now that I wouldn't win, so I repeatedly thanked him and shook his hand. Then, with the kindest smile, he said, “Nice to meet you. I love you.” I held back my laughter and told him it was very nice to meet him as well and we parted ways. “Love” seems to be quite the popular English word amongst Georgians, and even in our training class we were taught to say love instead of like (ie.  I don’t love cheese). In America, this could have been very creepy, but here, it was an act of pure kindness and appreciation.

I met all my friends at the café and we had a table full of food and wine and in no less than an hour, so were we. In traditional supra style, there were many toasts, in both English and Georgian, and even the occasional Russian translation. Then came the cake with American and Georgian flags side by side, and fruit plates with firecrackers flaming from the center. Although the cake was beautiful, I was very excited about the kiwi, orange rings, and quince slices…which seem to be quite the popular fruit out here that we expats are no so familiar with. I was hoping my plate of fruit would deter them from giving me cake but instead the server just forked my quince, handed it to me, and replaced my fruit with cake. This time laughter wasn’t as easy to hold back as we were all given slices the size of our heads! The music started and dancing began, but shortly after, my host brother called and it was time for me to head back home.

cake :)

insanely large slice of cake.

He spoke to Megan’s host dad to tell him where I needed to go and then host dad relayed the information to host uncle (who’s a taxi driver), who then drove me down the road to one of his taxi friends where I hopped in a taxi for Telavi. We drove for about 20 minutes in silence when my brother called and told me to give the phone to the driver where a short conversation took place in Georgian. 20 minutes later, the taxi pulled over to the side of the road where Giorgi was waiting for me. We greeted each other, I paid the taxi man, and about 5 seconds after he pulled away, a driver from the office pulled up to take us the rest of the way home. Wow. I managed to travel about 60 km without really taking part in the conversations of where I needed to go. I simply trusted these four men, three of whom I just met that night, and went where they motioned for me too. When I step back and think about it, we teachers have given a lot of trust to people we only met three weeks ago, including each other. It may sound crazy but from my experiences so far, they continue to earn it.

I arrived home, feeling happyJ, and was ready to relax for the night as it was only about 8 p.m., but then Fati came in the house and shouted, “Rachel, I’ve come to get you! Let’s go!” So I threw my boots back on and ran out of the house with no idea of what was going on. We arrived at the office where all my after school comrades were in the middle of a supra…apparently it was Man’s Day and they were celebrating all the men that worked with my host mom. So I joined in for more food, wine and fun. I sat in between the Tamada (toast master) and Fati, who translated most of what was said but I was still in the dark for some of it. However, I think I’m starting to understand a bit of what’s going on around me. Although I can’t technically speak Georgian, I pay a lot of attention when they talk, so I feel I’m starting to understand the meaning behind what they’re saying even though I don’t understand the actual words.

The next thing I knew my host mom requested that I give a toast…in Georgian. I laughed, thinking she was joking, but the entire table went silent and everyone looked at me…they weren’t joking. I looked at Fati to rescue me, but she just grinned. So I did the only thing I could do. I picked up my wine glass and started putting together the few words I knew into the shortest sentences possible, ironically using the word “love” a lot. Although I’m sure it wasn’t much better than my 3^rd graders English, the entire room listened to every word I said, nodded in agreement, and some helped me with a few words I didn’t know. I wrapped it up by raising my glass and they all clapped and cheered. I did it! My host mom had a smile from ear to ear and Fati gave me a big hug and said she was so proud. I was quite proud myself, however, it’d be unfair to take all the credit…I had a few glasses of wine to thank for that performance :).