Teach and Learn Orientation, Spring 2014

As I write about my experiences here in Georgia, I must confess, I’ll be giving you a censored version. Yes, this is my story, but the other characters involved are real people who do not want their names or lives plastered all over the internet. At the same time, I’m not going to fabricate an experience which isn’t the one I’m having, and I’m not going to leave out many (if any) situations which I find integral to it. So those who read my blogs from afar will have to excuse my being vague at times; and those featured in it (should they even know English or someone who does), will have to excuse my honesty.

Orientation Training Week:

By just a couple days in, it feels like this my life. It feels like I know these 20 people, but not like I just met them. It feels like I’m subject to this schedule, but not like it’s something different. This just….is.

We are learning way too much Georgian in our language classes to remember, but I know that only those of us who make the effort to study consistently on our own will get past the basic tourist-guide-book phrases.

Our intercultural training and methodology lectures have some interesting info but can be very boring. It’s funny how sitting in a chair all day can drain you.

The hotel feeds us three times a day, and it’s all REAL food. Bread, cheese, and meat seem to make an appearance at every meal. Which is great, but does get monotonous. But oh well. We are told that there won’t be a huge variety of menu options in the villages either, so I suppose we might as well get used to it now.

We also explore Tbilisi in the evenings. We ride a tram up a mountain to a small amusement park. It’s covered in snow and abandoned for the winter, and in the dimming light it’s wonderfully eerie.

Another day, we explore a park. It’s modern and artistic, with the brick path coming up in swirling mounds every here and there. But at the back we find a very post-soviet feeling block of concrete. Like, seriously, it’s a huge concrete cube with many openings, including two huge circles on opposite sides, and slits on the floor through which we can see that the ground is far enough away to make for a deadly fall.

Another time I’m able to meet up with a skype friend I met online. Yes, he turned out to be a real 19-year-old Georgian university student, just like he was on skype. We walk a ways down the road and stop in front of a monument erected for those who died in the 1989 protests. His parents were there. They took part…saw the tanks, heard the chaos. It blows my mind to think about. The biggest protest I have been a part of was a counter protest when Westboro Baptist came to my uni. We stood across the road and sang happy songs at them.

On Valentine's Day, a bunch of us head to a bar/restaurant on the same block as the hotel for a traditional Georgian dance. When we get there, it’s almost empty, and although there are some young men with instruments, there is no dancing. We end up asking the waitress if someone can show us….and to our delight, a young man and young woman who work at the restaurant come dance for us. And then to our further delight, a guy dressed in a weird woman-suite (I have no other way to describe. Look for the video and you will see!) comes and joins the dance, and even dances with myself and another tlger. They give us a bottle of wine after 10 because we “won a game,” aka are the only people still there; and they light two heart-shaped lantern candle things. Already jolly from wine, all but the Irishman head to a club for some dancing. Its great fun, but we end up leaving when we’ve had enough of this local guy who seems to know English with the exception of the phrase “she doesn’t want to dance with you.”

The last note-worthy excursion is a trip to a local bar…the artsy bat where the stoners hang out. A VERY unique look at a VERY small part of Georgian society. I’m there with a few guy friends, and although I’m ready to go back at midnight so I can get up for class in the morning, they are in the mood to party all night. I can’t go into details for their sake, but I want to give you a taste of the real-life intercultural training we received that night by giving some quotes from people we met:

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“I do NOT need a Georgian man. I know Georgian men. When I was seventeen, I was married to a Georgian man. He is in jail now. My father is a Georgian man. My brothers are Georgian men. I do NOT need a Georgain man.”

Here I will also note that in a culture where women are expected to be virgins until they are married, shooting for a one night stand may get you into an uncomfortable situation with a drunk girl who thinks she is your girlfriend.

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“That was my mom calling me. She wanted to check on me.”

“At 2:30am? How old are you?”

“I’m 21. It’s just the way Georgian moms are. If I am with a friend of a friend of a friend, she will call HIM. And I am like, how the f*ck did you find me???”

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”Weed grows wild here. You’ll find it everywhere. It’s really easy to get. But if you get caught, you can go to prison for 8 to 9 years.”

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”I am traveling from Turkey. I translate for Greenpeace. But I just wanted to go out for a while. There are protests there now because the government shut off the internet. They claim it was because the people were using it to watch porn!”
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So yeah. That’s over  a week of TLG and Tbilisi smushed into one post . I hope the pieces I’ve given you are poignant enough for you to get a good taste!

My first day in Georgia

February 7^th (6^th in Hawaii)

7:20am

I’m finally settling in for bed after three plane rides, a bus ride to the hotel, and some time getting to know a few of my fellow volunteers.

After being in airports or on planes for a day and a half, I guess I’m ready to go to bed. My body obviously hasn’t adjusted, but I don’t know that it’s on Hawaii time either. In truth, I lost track of my sleep schedule at least a day ago. Time just isn’t as useful of a concept when you’re practically traversing across it. 

2:30pm

We are helping ourselves to the buffet of fresh Georgian food the hotel is providing for us. Bread, cheese, chicken, soup, vegetables…it’s all real food, and it’s all good. I’m practically salivating when I sit down at the table, chattering on about how excited I am to dig in. As I take a spoonful of soup, I look up and catch a grin on the face of the young woman tending the buffet. I remember what I’ve read about the importance of being a good host in Georgian culture, and the pride or shame that comes with a guest’s level of contentedness. I take note of the fact that I need to be aware of my reactions, as they will be closely watched.

Another volunteer and I want some Turkish tea, but it’s sitting on a shelf to the side and no tea cups are out. I decide to use a bowl. She tries to use a glass cup, but the hot water breaks it in half. A few minutes later and an older woman is reprimanding the younger woman as they get out the tea cups and sugar and place it all on the table. Oops? We certainly didn’t mean to get her in trouble.

So when we pass her as we head up the stairs, I smile and say “didi madloba! Thank you!” to which she responds with a genuine smile, “Arapris!” and something else which I can’t make out.

11:00pm

After walking around for a taste of the city, enjoying a healthy dinner, and loosening up with card games and laughter, we are all tired. We talk for a while as people one by one say goodnight and retire to their rooms. Myself and another first timer, Matt, stay up a bit longer listening to an older volunteer named Phil recount memories from previous semesters volunteering with Teach and Learn.

We are warned and understand that we are not about to change the Georgian education system, or even our assigned school, in one semester. And in truth our job is not solely concerned with the education system. In our lessons and interactions, both inside and outside the classroom, we offer the people exposure to a new way of thinking. Soviet Russia is out of office, but she is still in this country. We have the opportunity to demonstrate-not to push, but simply to show- a new way of thinking about education and how it can actually be enjoyable. We can also present, however subtly, new ideas about society, gender roles, etc. For every adult who is stuck in the old ways despite their inefficiency, there are a dozen children and youths who have the opportunity and the desire to try new ways as they grow up and inherit their villages.

12:00am

As I fall asleep, I day dream about meeting my host family, adjusting to my role in the classroom, and learning the language. Pictures of smiling Georgian children and tall, snowy mountains drift through my head. I hope I get along well with my host family and have a good working relationship with the local English teachers. Until orientation is over, so much of 2014 is still a mystery to me. I know I’m not guaranteed anything even close to easy, but I can’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I think I might just fall in love with Georgia. I hope she proves me right.