Cheers to Our Next Chapter!

Here is an update on what we will be doing after Peace Corps Georgia!

In February of 2016, I walked into my boss’ office and said, “Do you have a minute? I would like to talk to you about something important.” As I closed the door, my boss said, “You are either pregnant or you are leaving.” She knew me very well- on a personal and professional level- therefore, it was impossible for her not to guess. I nodded my head and said that yes, I am in fact resigning. Then I joked that I still have a few years ahead of me until I become pregnant.

She asked me which company I was going to and if I was getting paid more. Her face exhibited utter confusion when I said, “they aren’t paying me anything.” She was like, “I don’t understand. What do you mean?” My hands were quivering slightly and I said, “I joined the Peace Corps and I leave in 8 weeks.” Immediately that conversation took a different turn. She was happy, supportive, and curious about all aspects. That moment is when the Peace Corps became real.

But it got really real when a couple of weeks later I sold my furniture and my car the same day. I sat on my living floor surrounded by a few boxes and no furniture. I looked at Justin and I said, “there is no turning back. We just made the biggest commitment of our lives.” (Well, besides marrying each other). It felt very committal when we packed our remaining belongings in several boxes and stored it in my childhood bedroom in my parents’ home. All the talk about the Peace Corps didn’t amount to much, until that moment.

Now, I’m about to do the same thing, but in an entirely different way. I’m currently staring at my few boxes that I left at my parents’ house prior to my departure to Georgia. I’m just as anxious starting the new chapter of our lives. I’ve been wanting to be a Peace Corps Volunteer since I was 17 years old. Therefore, having to close this chapter is fulfilling but also terrifying. Putting my life in two suitcases once again is no easy feat.

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My suitcases when they arrived in March 2016! They are about to fill up again to go back home!

However, the new chapter that awaits us is an exciting one. After a year of studying for the GMAT and the GRE (yes, we took both tests!), Justin and I applied for graduate business schools. To my surprise, I was accepted to nearly all of the universities that I applied to and received generous scholarships. As much as I miss my home state of California, Justin and I did not apply to any universities there. We wanted a low cost of living and a highly ranked business school. There aren’t any universities in California that offer both ranking and an affordable location.

With that being said, Justin and I are ecstatic to announce that we will be attending Kenan-Flagler Business School at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill starting July 2019! We have secured our housing and I’m now anxiously browsing the internet for what furniture that I need to buy!

I will have to give credit to my dear and close friend, Rose! She was one of my best friends during my Peace Corps service and was the one that recommended the program to me. I applied as a joke so that “we can go to school together.” It ended up working out because we need to be close to family and UNC can afford us that opportunity while going to school with Rose! She does attend a different graduate program, but having a close friend from the area does help with the transition.

Rose and I during our Close of Service Conference in March 2018

So pretty soon, Rose and I will be going to furniture shopping together once I arrive in Chapel Hill. If someone told me during Peace Corps orientation that I will move to North Carolina because I struck a strong friendship bond with a fellow volunteer, I would have laughed. So here I am, moving to North Carolina with Justin. My parents, however, are not laughing. They seriously thought I was moving back to California…whoops!

Peggy’s Visit

My friend Peggy visited me for a week in Georgia and we had a blast. I was able to show her some Georgian cultural experiences and share numerous stories <3

Peggy was an exchange student from Germany at my undergraduate university in California. We have remained in contact mostly through Facebook. When she found out that I’m still in Georgia, she booked a flight from Berlin to visit me!

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Peggy (left) and I (right)

Instead of boring you with some of our touristy details, I thought it might be more entertaining to point out some of Peggy’s observations about my service and Georgia in general. I haven’t experienced Georgia in a lense of a foreigner in a while- I am basically local at this point (not native, but definitely local).

The first thing that she learned when she arrived at my apartment was that my shower was not working. It was the first or second week that we started living in our new place. Instead of a normal stream of water, the shower was trickling at best. Peggy casually asked when it stopped working and Justin and I responded nonchalantly that it hasn’t worked for a few days. With a slightly confused look, we clarified to Peggy that things in Georgia break down often and there isn’t a particular sense of urgency to fix them either.  I told her that I have bucket bathed a couple of times and wasn’t even worried about the shower. To prove my point even further, when we returned from Tbilisi over the weekend, the heater also decided to give out. I felt bad that Peggy was not able to shower at my place or even sleep that warmly. The heater took another few days to get fixed, despite me trying to get it fixed as soon as possible.

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Peggy (left), me (center), and Tiffany (right) at Pheasant’s Tears Winery

Over the weekend that she was here, Peggy and I took a trip to Tbilisi and Sighnaghi (a wine town) with my friend and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, Tiffany. When we got to our affordable hotel room in Sighnaghi, the hotelier provided us with one key- instead of one key per guest as it is typical in the United States. I told Peggy that in Georgia, they only give “one key” even if there are half a dozen guests in a single Airbnb or hotel room. She thought I was slightly joking. Then when we had lunch with my friend and PCV, Olivia, she told us a story of how something went wrong in her apartment while she was out of town. Since she had the only key to her apartment, her landlord was essentially in a pickle trying to figure out how to enter the apartment. I told her that when I moved into our apartment, we had to convince our new landlord for two sets of keys- one for me and another for Justin. She could not fathom why we needed two sets. It took multiple reminders and nearly two weeks to get the other set of keys.

Another thing that I completely forgot about is that in Georgian, red wine is actually referred to as “Black Wine.” In Georgian, we say, “Shavi Ghvino / შავი ღვინო” where “Shavi” means “Black” and “Ghvino” means “Wine.” In my three years here, I’ve only been corrected once by a Kakhetian winemaker that it is “red wine” and not “black wine.” Granted, I live in the Imereti Region of Georgia. Sighnaghi is in the Kakheti Region of Georgia, which is known for its wine. Thus, I could chalk this up to a regional dialect difference than anything.

Speaking of wine, when we were at Pheasant’s Tears Winery, guess how old our sommelier was? Seventeen years old. Tiffany and I were not surprised. I’ve seen young children drink some wine with their parents at parties. I’ve seen an eight-year-old buy a huge bottle of beer for his grandfather to drink later. Dato, the 17-year-old sommelier at Pheasant’s Tears, was very knowledgeable and provided us with great detail on each wine that we tasted.

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Red/Black wine from Okro’s Winery in Sighnaghi. This is the first bottle that we tasted on our trip 🙂 Photo cred: my friend Peggy

It is going to be odd going back to America where I’ll have to be carded and checked to see if I’m of age. I’m probably never going to see a seventeen-year-old sommelier in the U.S., at least legally. But I’ll definitely appreciate having my own set of keys at a hotel or an apartment without protest again. I also miss the American sense of urgency when it comes to fixing necessary things, such as a heater or a shower.

I remember Peggy asking me if this was my daily life and I said yes. She was a bit impressed that is how I live like each day because in many ways Georgia and the United States are culturally different. With that being said, I’m looking forward to returning to America next month. I’ll also miss Georgia a ton- this country has been my home after all for the past three years. Even with all the cultural differences, we all love the same. Georgians and Americans care just as deeply, we might just express that love and that care differently.

 

 

Three Things that Georgians Find Odd about Americans

After living here for some time, I’ve realized that there are some things that Georgians just simply find odd about Americans. Of course, I’m talking in broad brush strokes here. I’m writing in generalizations (on both respects- Americans and Georgians); however, there is truth to this pattern.

  1. That we want to live alone

    When I first told my supervisor at work that I wanted to move out and I would appreciate if he kept an eye out for apartments, his first response was, “I know another great host family for you.” I said, “Oh, I don’t want another host family. My host family now is really great. I just want my own apartment with Justin.” He then was a bit worried about how I and Justin would manage to handle things on our own (see number 2 below). He did not understand why we needed our own space. Last week, I showed my English club this video. The National Geographic video highlights a man, Billy Burr, living alone in the Colorado woods. The point of the video was more along the lines of climate change. We were supposed to discuss climate change. When the video concluded, want to venture a guess what we ended talking about for twice the length of the video? “Why did he live alone?” “What happened to him that he is living alone?” So after explaining how living alone in America is not weird, I laughed and said, “It is funny how my take away is climate change and yours is him living alone. This is how you can tell we come from different cultures.” We both laughed and moved on to the lesson at hand.

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    My old neighborhood of my first apartment where we lived independently

     

    Georgians have an amazing sense of community and for the most part, they enjoy living together. Once, I delivered a training about “Identifying your Assets” to increase awareness of internal and external resources and talents that they could use to improve their employability chances. One of my students listed her neighbors as external assets. This is something I would have never thought of writing down. Coming from very large metropolitan and overcrowded cities in the United States, I sometimes had no idea who even lived next door to me.  I’m sure that rural America has a stronger sense of local community than Los Angeles or San Francisco, but I wouldn’t know since I’ve never lived in rural America. Even in cities in Georgia have a strong sense of local community. Thus, that would be my guess why they cannot conceptualize why we would choose to live alone.

  2. That we know how to cook and fend for ourselves

    This one is reserved mainly for the older generation. When I lived with my PST host family, the host mom joked that I will take her back with me so she can be my maid. I told her that my apartment was about 700 square feet and so I won’t need a maid. Apparently, all the American movies that she must have seen included only rich Americans with maids. She was thought I was pulling her leg when I told her that I do all the cleaning in my apartment. Correction- Justin and I do all the cleaning. I made sure to add Justin to break stereotypes when I talk to Georgians and also give credit where credit is due. My older colleagues at my office now were pleasantly surprised when I would bring leftovers that I cooked for lunch the next day. I seriously have no idea where this stereotype about Americans originated? Maybe because in TV shows and movies we tend to be eating at restaurants?  Other Peace Corps Volunteers have also experienced the same thing from their colleagues or members of the community.

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    Prepping for Thanksgiving 2018

    One of my Georgian friends, Ana, even confirmed this stereotype last week when we went out for some tea. I was telling her some weird conversations that I have had with other Georgians and she even confirmed this one with me. Honestly, I never know how to respond. I simply say, “yes, I love to cook and I enjoy doing it.” It is possible that my host families made these comments as an indirect way for wanting to continue to host us. My host families were in charge of providing meals for us on a daily basis. Maybe when I indicated that I wanted to cook in their homes, they felt that I no longer wanted them to host me? This is pure speculation- but I do know after 3 years living here at Georgians take pride in being great hosts to their guests.

  3. We exercise by choice and run for fun

    I’ll just point out very quickly that I have yet to run recreationally in Georgia. Right before our Peace Corps departure date, I was training for a half-marathon for months. However, it is very odd to see someone running here for “fun” or “exercise.” I already stand out and I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with more ogling stares. It is a lazy excuse, I know. But nonetheless, it is the excuse that I’m sticking with. Other, more motivated, Peace Corps friends of mine have continued their running regime. They do get questioned why they are doing it and they do get stares during their runs.

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    There is a local central park in my town; however, I can’t recall seeing anyone run for recreational purposes

     

    I’ll also say that is odder for women to exercise than it is more fun. Georgian men participate in sports such as Rugby, heavy lifting, and boxing. I have male PCV friends that would go to their local gym and have a friendly boxing match with their local Georgian male friends. With the exception of large cities in Georgia, I do not believe that female sightings at gyms are very common. I live in a large city and I’ve been to an all-female gym in town. However, I do not think that participating in an active lifestyle is on the mind of an average Georgian outside of Tbilisi.

 

It Is Getting Hot in Here! Or is it just me?

A Peace Corps experience that I did not think I was going to experience. But there are always surprises around the corner in life…read on.

Sometimes, I think to myself, “I’ve had enough adventures in the Peace Corps to fill a lifetime.” Life, however, disagreed and shouted, “HOLD MY BEER.” Around 8:00 p.m. on Saturday, February 9th, here in Georgia, Justin and I were pinching our eyes in suspicion and darting our eyes towards the kitchen. “Hey, Sweetie, do you smell that, too?” “Yeah, what is that?” I’ll ruin the suspense just a bit, it would be an “adventure” for the next few hours and changed the course for the rest of the week and more.

We walked into our kitchen and we noticed that even the air was foggy. Instead of crisp cold air, it was like a blanket of greyness surrounding each particle of oxygen. Let me remind you, our kitchen has the only door in our indoor living quarters. Why would it have a door? Well, because there aren’t enough glass panels to cover all our windows. So, it is basically a semi-outdoor kitchen. Now, back-to-the-problem-at-hand, the smell enveloped the entire kitchen. Since we opened the door, the smell swiftly occupied our other rooms. We quickly developed an intense headache.

Justin and I could barely breathe without coughing or covering our mouths and nose with our shirts. Something was off and we could not figure out the origin of the smell (and the fog). Since our kitchen is partly-outdoors, we opened the main door to see if the smell was coming from the outside. Nope, it was coming from the kitchen. We checked to see if our oven was truly turned-off and it was. It smelled like a combination of a burning pile of wood and other materials. As the smell worsened, so did our headaches and our lightheadedness.

Thankfully, the Peace Corps provided us with a smoke detector that can also detect carbon monoxide. the detector stayed silent so that eliminated the possibility of us dying from carbon monoxide. Phew. After Justin turned off the gas line in the kitchen and moved the oven, we eliminated the oven as the culprit. We also opened all our windows to reduce the smell. Of course, we are now very cold because even though this is a mild winter, it is still the middle of February.

After two hours of not knowing what is going on and the worsening smell, we decided to call our landlords around 11:00 p.m. They didn’t think it was serious and just told us to turn off the electricity and go to bed early. We were irritated that they weren’t taking us seriously and could not understand their odd advice to turn off the electrical lines. However, after discovering that our neighbor, who is also their relative, is having the same problem- but worse- our landlords finally agreed to pay us a visit.

Around 11:30 pm., Justin and our landlord started disassembling our water heater. Our landlords, our neighbor, and Justin have also discovered that our walls were hot. That was concerning. Then, we collectively started thinking that it is a possible electrical problem. Either way, I was not comforted by the fact at all. I decided to call a friend of mine, Cameron, to see if we could spend the night at her place in case the situation worsens. At the time, it was midnight and I felt bad that I was keeping her up late.

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The fire department putting out the fires! 

Our landlord was convinced that this was still a minor issue. His wife urged him that since the walls were warm and she was also coughing from the smell that we needed to call the fire department; he listened to his wife (thankfully) and they called. Half a dozen firefighters and a police officer showed up in our small kitchen with a fire hose in tow. That is when I was like, “Well, our Saturday night just got more interesting.” Justin and I did not think that the smell we were smelling for the last four hours was a fire.

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This is our kitchen after the fire department hosed it down. That entire hole was on fire and the smoke and smell enveloped the entire house. 

The firefighters started taking an ax or something and started breaking into the kitchen wall. To our surprise, there was already a fire inside the wall! As the firemen were chopping through more wood, we could tell the fire was spreading. The main fireman mentioned that if we didn’t call when we did, it would have been possible that the entire house would have been enveloped by fire within the next hour or two.

This comment worried me. Our house has been infested with termites for as long as we have been living there- maybe longer. Secondly, the house was built decades ago (possibly a hundred years ago) and the foundation is already crooked and outdated. Given how the termites possibly compromised the foundation of the house and the combination of the old, outdated construction, I think that the house would have collapsed quickly! Our landlord’s wife expressed gratitude that we insisted that they should come over. She said with her limited English, “your stubbornness saved our house.” At this point, there was ash and wood chippings all over our kitchen. The fire stunk up the entire house. We no longer had running water or a functioning kitchen. However, most of the house was still standing. We were safe. We were alive. Most of our belongings were okay.

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This took a couple of days to clean up. Justin did most of it on his own. 

Around 2 a.m., we arrived at our friend Cameron’s apartment. She graciously took us in and let us sleep the night at her place after the long ordeal. Since she only had an old-soviet type of couches, we sought shelter elsewhere for the remainder of the week. For five days, we spent the night at our friend and fellow sitemate’s apartment. Andrew has an extra bed in his apartment, and he lives close to where our apartment is. He recently moved out from his host family and the timing couldn’t be any more perfect. If he has not been able to host us, our week would have been more stressful.

On the fifth day of this ordeal, the kitchen sink broke again. It has been breaking on-and-off for at least three times now since we have moved on. Our landlord keeps buying old junk from yard sales to replace the broken items instead of paying a little extra money to fix it for good. The best part is, we gave him the money to fix the sink. After the sink broke again, we decided that it is time to move on. The landlord also did not seem in a rush to fix the kitchen because he felt that it was not urgent for us to have hot water or a functioning kitchen.

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Our landlord did hire someone in to fix the wall within 3 days

Therefore, we decided to move out. We honestly did not want to move to another apartment in the last few months of service. However, having hot water and a kitchen just seemed non-negotiable. I also couldn’t stand the lingering smell of the fire that just enveloped the rest of the house. So here I am, posting this blog post from our new apartment! Wish us luck that this place has smoother living conditions 😊

Preparing to Say Goodbye to Georgia

I only have three months left of service and I’m beginning to realize that means I have to say goodbye. I’m beginning to mentally prepare myself to leave.

I have a little over three months left of Peace Corps service and I’m beginning to mentally prepare myself to leave. Since my arrival in Georgia, I welcomed this new country as my home. I knew that I was going to stay for a couple of years, so I mentally got used to living here quickly. When we decided to extend, it was about nine months before we were originally set to leave. Therefore, as everyone else in my cohort was mentally preparing to leave around the Spring of 2018, Justin and I continued as normal.

As I am thinking of returning to the United States, I started thinking of the meaning of home. When people leave their homes, they expect things to be the same when they return. However, I’ve been gone from the U.S. for three years. I haven’t even lived in my so-called hometown for longer than that- about seven years. When I return to the U.S., my heart needs my home to be the same. But my head is nervously calculating how much it actually changed.

Despite the changes in my small world, such as friends getting married or pregnant, there are changes on a national scale. When I left the United States, Obama was still president. When I return, Trump will be more than halfway done with his current term. Since then, national and global movements started that have changed the national discourse on multiple fonts.  The Women’s March started while I was gone. The Time’s Up and the #MeToo movement also started when I was gone. Colin Kaepernick took his first knee months after we arrived in Georgia. Conversations regarding sexual violence, sexism, racism, and gun violence are now occupying more pages in newspapers.

America is no longer the same. Some could make the argument it is for the worst and some could make the argument for the better. I’m going to leave my opinions out of it for this blog post. The whole point for me to write this down is to highlight how different America is now than when I left it three years ago. When I left my parents’ house at 5 something in the morning in April 2016, I honestly did not anticipate this much change in this amount of time. Because of all these nations, I am wondering how much reculture shock am I going to experience. I know that I’m not the first Peace Corps Volunteer to think this because here is an article about a Returned Peace Corps detailing his thoughts returning home.

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Took a beautiful walk with other Peace Corps to capture the beauty of this city. Imereti (region), Georgia

 

Things in Georgia also dramatically changed while I’ve been here. My town for instance now has multiple fast food chains! For two years, I needed to go to the capital if I wanted to get my hands on a real hamburger (that isn’t McDonald’s). But now, a mom-and-pop shop, ironically called White Castle Burger, has opened in my area! One of my Georgian friends was engaged when I met her. Now, she is married and has two daughters! And no, she did not have twins. One amazing change that happened in Georgia on a national level has also been the smoking ban in enclosed public spaces. For instance, when I would go out to a restaurant, my clothes reeked of cigarettes when I came home. Now, it is illegal to smoke in restaurants. My clothes and lungs couldn’t be any happier.

Leaving home does a funny thing to you. Everyone around you changes little by little, so they don’t notice their own changes. I change little by little while I’m over here, but I don’t notice it. I know that I have changed gradually, but could I pinpoint the exact moments, no, I cannot. Then both our worlds will collide when I return and I have to make sense of it and analyze how my personal puzzle pieces fit into everyone’s lives.

I’ve heard multiple Peace Corps Volunteers tell me that when they returned home, that they felt out of place. Home is supposed to feel comforting and fits right into place. I’ve been told that this might not be the case. Before I departed for service, I asked a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer who served in South America how long it took her for home to feel like home again. Her response: THREE YEARS. She said that the first six months were the most difficult and then she gradually started getting used to it. But the first three years, she felt a tug or a pull towards her country of service.

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I didn’t do the best job of capturing the city’s night lights. Tbilisi, Georgia.

I have a sense that I will feel this way about Georgia. I extended because this place is already occupying a permanent place in my heart. Now that I’m here for the third year, the roots are even deeper. To help with my readjustment, I’m beginning to look forward to what I have in the United States. In the next several months, Justin and I will begin a new chapter of our lives. Peace Corps will become something that we did, rather something that we are.

My friends back home have been also patiently awaiting my return. One of my oldest friends, Nikki, who I basically consider family at this point, got engaged while I was gone (read a related blog post here). The day after I return to the U.S., we are going bridesmaids dress shopping. Nikki patiently waited until I got back so I can shop with the rest of the crew. I also happened to convince my baby sister (well, she is actually almost 24 years old) to take some time off work to help me set up my new home by unpacking some boxes and buying new furniture.

Therefore, I am excited for the next chapter of my life to begin. These past three years in Georgia have been such an amazing chapter. It feels bittersweet to close this chapter of my life, but it is coming to a close whether I am prepared or not.

 

 

 

 

An Ode to Minny, our Cat

This short tale is about our small, friendly kitten named Minny.

Some animals come and go, but Minny is here to stay forever. As previously detailed in this blog post, we have had many animals just live in our yard. Justin and I have literally had a rooster, rabbits, cats, dogs, and even mice. The mice were the least welcome. Our neighbor even keeps bees- but don’t even get me started on Achiko, our neighbor. One of our top favorites has been Spot, our dog for just a couple of months. I still maintain my opinion that he was the sweetest puppy that ever lived- wherever he is now.

However, my heart has opened its doors to my newest love- Minny. She was born in our yard probably sometime in the late summer of 2018. The mother cat has always perused in our yard, with her husband and possibly her father-in-law in-toe. The litter, to our knowledge, was small. Three beautiful kittens huddled around, being nursed by mama cat for what seemed like weeks on end. Two kittens looked identical and the other one looked oddly very different. The whitewashed kitten was the strangest of them all, and sadly, was probably born blind. Our best guess is that she had joined her yard siblings in animal heaven. The other black kitten vanished and was never to be seen again. And then, only one remained.

The one that did not bite the dust was, thereafter, named Minny. At first, Minny was shy and very much a wallflower. She would hide in bushes whenever she would see the tips of my or Justin’s shoe exit the front door. She would scatter like the wind under some leaves behind the wooden bench in our yard. Minny, as she would have it, wanted to avoid human contact or interaction, as much as cat-ly possible. In her tiny strong-willed kitty heart, she would not be petted.

Justin, a lover of animals, wanted to provide his humanly love and compassion towards this scaredy-cat. The mother cat could not be bothered and daddy cat and grumpy cat grampa were they “leave me alone and don’t step on my yard” type of kitties. But Justin thought to himself, “this one will be hugged and loved.” So each day, Justin would tip-toe to the little, future-lovable kitten. Little by little, tiny Minny would ruffle some the leaves and have herself some sneak peeks to learn more about approachable Justin.

After a month of courtship, Minny began to approach Justin and then me. You see, I had taken a little vacation, so I was not around for this kitty-courtship. When I had returned, I saw Minny in Justin’s arms and I was surprised to see another love embrace my husband’s arms to warmly. Minny looked up with her bright olive-green eyes and purred the softest “meow” that has touched my ears. I was in love.

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However, like Romeo and Juliet, my love is forbidden. Bound by different circumstances, my love is limited due something doctors like to call “allergies.” Minny’s dander, harmless to Justin, steeps deep down to my chest and causes a rash when I’m exposed for long periods of time. Unoriginally, I sneeze and become stuffy. Minny’s adventures stop at our front door. She is not allowed to step beyond the threshold of my front door.

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I pay the price from time to time, I give her little kitten massages. I immediately scrub my hands with water and soap and remove any evidence so my lungs would be none the wiser. Minny purrs unknowingly and how I can explain to such a cute kitten that she cannot zig-zag around my feet and touch my pant legs continuously? I literally have no sense of discipline and so I call out to Justin, “Can you pick up Minny and make sure she doesn’t get inside?”

Despite what might seem like a hot-and-cold relationship between Minny and me, rest assured, there is real love. When we go away to Tbilisi for a couple of days, I wonder how Minny is doing. I wonder how long her filtered water bowl will last. I speculate if she ate the buckwheat that we left out. Have no fear, if the buckwheat is done, our yard neighbor, Zurab, also puts out food. Minny and her cat family will have full bellies full of food.

Minny has gotten used to us and now seeks out the attention. When we come home from work, Minny is the first to greet me. She plunges down the mandarine tree bark and walks with me to the front steps of my 3-foot-wide porch. When we leave, Minny hurdles to ensure that we hear her meow goodbye. When we call her by her name, she runs up from the basement to our feet. Minny knows that she is loved. Minny loves us back too and stands on our porch’s railing to meow a “wonderful good morning Rawan and Justin” each day by making eye contact through our kitchen window.

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To the end of my service, I hope to see Minny’s face rain or shine. I hope to continue hearing her soft paw knocks on our front door for hugs and kisses. I hope this because to me, Minny is the sweetest and best kitten in the whole-wide-world.

 

 

A Year in Review: Seven Random Favorite Moments During ...

As 2018 comes to an end, I have been reflecting on some of my favorite moments of my Peace Corps service during this calendar year. These are no particular order.

  1. During “Thanksgiving” break, my friends and I sat around talking after our dinner until 2 or 3 in the morning. I told them that I am a huge fan of Mary Poppins and then we all proceeded to quote lines and scenes of the movie. To have others bask in favorite movie lines of a 50-year-old movie is priceless. (You can read about our Thanksgiving holiday more here.)
  2. During METS Camp, one of the campers, named Shota, jumped up-and-down and yelled, “I love this so much” as we were working on a DNA experiment. To see a teenager exclaim with such excitement in front of his peers like a five-year-old makes the year-long planning process totally worth it. (If you want to learn more about METS Camp in general, read about it here.)

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    One of the team during METS Camp preparing their materials for the DNA experiment.
  3. There was a lot of work to get Justin and I approved for another year of service. When it was all said and done, Justin and I were really happy that we could stay in Georgia and continuing serving our community. (Read more about it here or here.)
  4. During DREAM Camp, I taught the campers about the difference between inclusion and tolerance. There was a lot of confusion between the difference between the two acts and why inclusion was more kind and important for humanity. I used odd metaphors to help them explain and it worked! The campers, in turn, used these metaphors and helped explain it to the other campers who could not understand it. I stood there like the happiest teacher knowing that I helped turn on the metaphorical light bulb in their minds to make more acts of kindness into the world. (If you want to learn more about DREAM camp in general, read about it here and here.)

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    Me on the left and Tasha, a camper, on the right. Tasha explained the definition of inclusion so well during a presentation at DREAM Camp that sparked a conversation and a lot of learning.
  5. Celebrating a big birthday in Tbilisi with my sitemate Erin and my husband Justin. The three of us are born in the same month and year and all three of us are born within 14 days of each other. So naturally, we had a combined birthday celebration and it was amazing.

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    We had 14 people for dinner to celebrate our birthdays and it was absolutely delicious and wonderful. Getting a reservation for a large party, on the other hand, was a story in of itself.
  6. Taking Georgian Dance classes with two of my sitemates. For some reason, I thought I had a picture of me, Erin, and Nicole taking dance classes, but apparently, I do not. For two months, the three of us learned the Rachuli and Adjaruli, which are two dances from the regions of Racha and Adjara, respectively.
  7. At least once a month, my friends Kate and Rose (who I have mentioned many times before) would come to my site to hang out. Our favorite activity was going to a local establishment and drinking tea. Erin, my sitemate, would also regularly join us. It is possible that we started this late 2017, but I think it took off in 2018 as a regular habit.

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    Rose, Me, and Kate drinking out for tea 🙂 We would joke and call this type of hangout, “tea club.”

Thanksgiving 2018: Let’s just go to Plan F

For this Thanksgiving edition, I’ve asked my friend and fellow PCV Phil to write a guest blog post. Enjoy his post and my pictures to accompany his writing 🙂 – Rawan

Let me tell you about PC Georgia G16 Extension to the Next Dimension Friendsgiving 2018 Rach’ Out with your Crotch Out, our snowy northbound excursion! Do you want to hear about our marshutka struggling up a craggy mountainside? Battening down the hatches against the frosty weather with a village host as we share the latest news, cooking local fowl and transplanting our American holiday customs into the far-flung and hoary Caucuses?

Couldn’t find a place to do it.

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All the G16 Extended (3rd Year) Peace Corps Volunteers, from left to right: Ainsley, Justin, Phil, Susan, and Rawan

Winter excursion season usually starts December 8th when the skiing opens, but we can’t help it. Our schedule is what it is. We tried booking three different places through Airbnb in Oni, Nikortsminda, and, forgoing Racha altogether, Bakuriani to the south. In all three instances we learned a day after booking that the host either wasn’t checking their email, had booked another guest without taking down their posting, or hadn’t gotten their pad functional yet, sincerest-apologies-come back-next-week.

Booking.com found us an apartment in the center of Bakuriani, and then the evening before we were due there our man called to say that there was no water at his digs. “That gonna be a problem?”

Like Jonah in the belly of the whale, we can take a hint. So, we stayed put in Rawan and Justin’s home and cooked a Thanksgiving spread so lavish it shames us. Orange chicken; mashed potatoes; pumpkin gnocchi; butternut squash soup; stuffing; glazed carrots; gravy; and brownies.

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Croutons, Butternut Squash Soup, Mashed Potatoes, Justin’s Orange Chicken, Gravy, Glazed Carrots, Pumpkin Gnocchi, two sets of Brownies, Stuffing, Apple Crumble, and Rice!

Thanksgiving is a good time to put aside this jocular self-pity and acknowledge that we as Americans and Peace Corps Volunteers have oodles to be thankful for. I’m sure if our stateside countrymen knew what a blast the Peace Corps is, they’d run – not walk – to sign up, leaving their front doors open and the kettle still on.

Every day we get to partner with those Georgians who are doing the essential work of developing their country and its institutions. All the while we upload into our consciousness several lifetimes’ worth of lessons, inspiration and formative experience that we shall not fully grasp and appreciate until years down the road.

Georgia is a fascinating country with rare natural beauty and extremely likable people. We are fortunate to work and live in such a place, and that we have this time to explore it together.

For explore we did, albeit in shorter range than intended. After sleeping off the chow, Saturday we ventured a short way uphill to see the historical double-act of Motsameta and Gelati Monasteries.

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Crashing a wedding (or five) at Motsameta!

Motsameta sits atop a cliff jutting out over a gorge, dropping on three sides, with a fine view of the Tskaltsitela River below. The church contains a shrine to the bones of two 8th century Georgian martyrs, the brothers Davit and Konstantin Mkheidze, local dukes who were tortured and executed by Muslim invaders for refusing to convert. There were several weddings in progress when we visited, and while we waited to enter the chapel where the ceremonies were underway and the holy relics housed, we played with the monks’ well, into which visitors had thrown coins despite an injunction not to do so.

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Gelati

Gelati was less crowded and under construction. It was founded in 1106 by David IV, known by the epithet Aghmashenebeli – “The Builder”. He is a heroic figure in Georgian medieval history, under whose reign Georgia came to dominate the Caucasus. He is buried at this site under a gate stripped as a prize from the city of Ganja in Azerbaijan by David’s son Demetrius.

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Courtyard of Gelati

We capped off the evening at the old PCV-standby Praha, to show our eastern companion some damn fine bean-bread. It is a testament to the excellence and quality-depth of our post that even when Plans A-through-D disintegrate, E, F, G, and H satisfy. Count your blessings and Happy Thanksgiving!

Questions Georgians Love to Ask Me

Over my two years in Georgia, I’ve come to notice that there is a large pattern of the types of questions Georgians ask me and other Peace Corps Volunteers.

1.”Do you like Georgia?” 

The first question tends to be, “Do you like Georgia?” Thankfully, Georgia does hold a special place in my heart and forever will. Therefore, I feel comfortable answering the question truthfully. Oddly, the reasons that I like Georgia are reasons that take Georgians by surprise. For example, I love Georgian dance and folk music. When I say this, they are surprised or shocked. Their facial expressions imply that this is not a reason that is deemed worthy.

2. “Do you like Khachapuri?” and/or “Do you like Khinkhali?”

What is deemed worthy as a reason to love Georgia? Well, their second question would suggest why I should love Georgia- Khachapuri. Georgians will almost always follow the “Do you like Georgia?” with, “Do you like Khachapuri?” In the beginning, this question did not bother me. Now, I try so hard not to roll my eyes. This topic is controversial. Georgians love cheese. Georgians love their Khachapuri. If you do not love Khachapuri, you are almost a traitor. I think the best analogy I could come up with is if an American does not like Pizza or Hamburgers. Even vegetarians and vegans in America will partake in Fourth of July BBQs with a veggie burger. Personally, since I am lactose intolerant, I prefer Lobiani over Khachapuri. Lobiani basically means “bean-y” which is a bread with beans in it, so essentially bean bread. It is probably one of my favorites.

3. “Do you have a husband/wife?” “Do you want a Georgian husband/wife?”

I have yet to come across a female Peace Corps Volunteer who has not been asked this question. I believe men also get this question, but I’m not sure if it is as frequently. Thankfully, I do have a husband and so I do not have to turn down their offer for them to find me one. Marriage is a sacred goal in Georgia.

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Justin and I at the World Cup in Russia (2018). Very lucky to be serving with a spouse in the Peace Corps 🙂

To choose to stay unmarried raises eyebrows and questions. My family comes from a different culture that has very similar attitudes as Georgians in regards to marriage. Therefore, I can understand where this question is coming from.

4. “How do you know Georgian? Why are you in Georgia?”

This is a fair question. I have yet to meet a single foreigner that speaks Georgian that is not a Peace Corps Volunteer. I think this is because my site is mostly ethnically Georgian and few foreigners live in my site. However, other villages and towns in Georgia have more diversity. For example, there are Peace Corps Volunteers that are placed in villages that have a large population of Armenians and/or Azeris. The other Peace Corps Volunteers have told me that non-ethnic Georgians speak Georgian, but their level of fluency is not uniform across the board. Some speak it fluently and others speak only a few words. Of course there are expats in Georgia; however, they tend to reside in Tbilisi, the capital. Similar to the non-ethnic Georgians, I’ve heard that there are expats that speak Georgian and some that don’t. The pattern does stand that Georgian is not as popular to learn as Russian among non-native Georgians.

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Justin and I found a head statue of JFK at the Hermitage in Russia. As we all know, JFK founded the Peace Corps, which takes language integration seriously.

As for us, Peace Corps Volunteers, we gain so much respect from the community by learning and speaking Georgian. They appreciate the effort and it definitely helps us integrate. More on that in this old blog post of mine.

5. How come you do not speak Russian? 

Ironically, when I speak Georgian to Georgians that I just met, they will respond in Russian. I will repeat in Georgian that I do not speak Russian, but I speak Georgian. They will still speak in Russian or they will ask me “how do I know Georgian?” In the Soviet times, Georgians (with the exception of top government officials) were not allowed to travel outside of the Soviet Union. According to my counterparts and friends, Georgia was isolated and everyone only knew what was within the Soviet Union. Therefore, they assumed that everyone knows Russian and this thought carries into the present.

Supringsly, some Georgians will think that many Americans will also know Russian. I tell them that Spanish is the second most common language in America. I will tell them that I understand a lot of Spanish and Georgians are shocked- why Spanish??? Why not Russian??? I tell them that if an American speaks Russian, more often than not, they are immigrants or first-generation Russian (or Russian speaking nations). If not, then they chose to learn in university.

6. How much money did and/or do you make? 

This is probably one of the most culturally different question that Georgians ask me that Americans just won’t. In the United States, it is considered rude and invasive to ask someone how much money someone makes. In Georgia, this could literally be one of the first questions they ask when they first meet me. Yes, I’ll say it again- many have asked me this during our first interaction.

I try to deflect my answer by using this as an opportunity to talk about Americans as a whole. I’ll say something like, “yes, we make more money than Georgians, but our living expenses also cost a lot of money. Therefore, we, too, do not have a lot of savings. The average American is now in the working class and our middle class is shrinking.” I give this answer because a common misconception is that Americans are rich. My host sister during PST joked that I should smuggle her in my suitcase and that she will be my maid in America. When I told her that I lived in one bedroom apartment for years in California, she did not believe me. She also did not believe me that I told her that I have been working since high school to help support myself.

At the end of the day, a huge part of our job as Peace Corps Volunteers is answering these types of questions. They may seem simple, but we are combating misconceptions. Our answers can help bridge a gap of knowledge and increase the foundation of friendship between the United States and Georgia.

Thoughts on Georgian Transportation

Transportation in Georgia is very different from the freeway jungles of Los Angeles. Here are some of my thoughts on how we get around in Georgia.

Marshutka:

When I’m not walking, I’m taking a marshutka. These mini-buses or large vans are a very soviet thing, in fact, the word itself is the modified Russian word “marshrutka.” The public transportation system is very efficient in Georgia. I can go to almost any remote village by marshutka. However, they are not necessarily comfortable. All seats are basically the “middle seat” in the smallest Honda Civic and definitely more uncomfortable than the most economical plane seat.

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When entering the marshutka, you open the passenger door and not the large side door. All the seats have been configured to fit more passengers. Side note, the two machines on the left side of the photo are pay boxes!

Even though they are very efficient and cheap, I’m just going to throw it out there that I am not a fan. Since I was 17 years old, I grew a distaste to crowded places. I’m not claustrophobic, but cramped spaces are physically and mentally uncomfortable for me. I am short and people tend to just squish me. Because marshutkas are inherently small, everyone gets squished. It is not so bad in the winter, but the summer makes for a lot of sweat swapping. Also, there is an old wives’ tale that if you open the windows and the breeze hits your chest, you will get sick. So imagine being cramped in a small space with no AC and no open windows. If you can imagine that, then you have successfully imagined every marshutka ride in the summer.

My family asks me, “why don’t you just take a bus?” And the answer is, “I’ve only seen modern, large buses in Tbilisi.” At my site, there is one route that has a bus. However, same as all the other marshutkas, the buses are given to us by Germany (not sure if donated or paid). Once Germany deems the bus or marshutka too old or unusable, they ship them off to Georgia. So the buses and marshutkas in my town (and likely all of Georgia excluding Tbilisi) are run-down and unsafe in accordance with American standards. I’ve seen broken down marshutkas on the side of the highway on the way to Tbilisi countless times.

On another note, the way we pay inner-city marshutka is also different. In the U.S, there is generally some sort of coin machine or card reader once you enter the bus. In Georgia, you generally pay when you are leaving the marshutka. There are few exceptions where you pay before the ride starts. Of course, there is not a written down system. For example, in the inner-city marshutaks, I pay when I leave. If I’m going to Tbilisi, I pay before. It is such a funny system. Regardless, drivers prefer if you pay with coins for shorter rides because there is no such thing as a coin machine or a card reader.

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The driver has a stash of coins and some bills on the dashboard of his marshutka. They sometimes put a small board or plastic to keep on top of the coins to keep them from moving around.

Riding to a different village or a town, it is prudent to bring the exact change. Many times, these prices are not posted anywhere. Locals know the prices and as Peace Corps Volunteers, we learned quickly to become local when it comes to marshutka prices. Since they are not posted anywhere, the marshutka can easily take advantage of foreigners if they wanted to. However, Peace Corps Volunteers speak Georgian and we know the routes well. Thus, we don’t usually get ripped off. It may just happen once or twice in the entire two years, which is a very low number. Personally, I have only got ripped off once because I did not have exact change. Such a rookie mistake.

Private Transportation/Cars:

In regards to private transportation, as Peace Corps Volunteers, we are not allowed to drive or own vehicles in the country in which we serve. Even though many (if not most) Georgians do not own a car, some do. I still see many Soviet vehicles still on the road and some people turn them into makeshift taxis in the small villages. My friend Nicole who visited me last year jokes that I should give her one as a gift and ship it from Georgia. Seeing them on the road is like opening up a time capsule.

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Two different Soviet cars back-to-back driving around town.

Of course, there are plenty of people that drive more updated versions of cars. However, if you visit Georgia you will still see plenty of Soviet cars. Speaking of modern cars, a lot of times, bumpers just somehow get lost. If the car gets into an accident, they just remove the bumper. They will tie the license plate with some rope or hammer in some nails and call it a day. I see a missing front bumper as least once a day. A lot of Taxis will also have lost bumpers and I still ride in them.

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To protect the privacy of the owner, I’m only going to provide a side image of the SUV. This picture was provided to me by a friend of mine, John.

Taxis:

Taxis are available and frequent in Georgia. Every town and village has a local taxi driver. In some remote areas, the only way in and out is by taxi. Some villages only have a marshutka going to and from Tbilisi or the next largest town once a day. I’ve visited some other Peace Corps Volunteers at their sites and I had to take a taxi. They are affordable but can get pricey if you make it into a habit. Therefore, as Peace Corps Volunteers, we usually do not take taxis unless necessary. I generally only take them in Tbilisi if I have a lot of luggage/equipment or if there isn’t a public transportation route in that direction.

Trains:

Trains, of course, exist in Georgia. They are most likely the least frequent method of public transportation that I embark on. The “fast” train does not really come through my site. It bypasses it, which is very annoying. If I were to take the fast train, I go to a neighboring village. At that point, it is just faster to take a marshutka from the bus station. Other volunteers take the take more frequently. It honestly depends where you are leaving and where you are going. For me, it just doesn’t make much sense. I do take the train when there is heavy snow and I need to go to Tbilisi. I find it safer than taking a broken down marshutka with a speedy driver through the rolling mountains of Georgia.

Metro:

There is only one metro system in all of Georgia and naturally, it is located in the capital, Tbilisi. While I’m in Tbilisi, I take the metro every single time. It is incredibly convenient and cheap. The metro only has two lines but Tbilisi is not a very large city compared to other capitals in the world; therefore, it works fine. It is 50 tetri for each ride, so it is cheaper than taxis and faster than walking. If you ever visit Tbilisi, I recommend the metro. It was built during the Soviet era and it still works great.

 

If you are curious about other people’s thoughts on transportation, read this article here.