The Pig Comes Full-Circle

Normally, dinner is uneventful. Tonight was not the case.

We were told to eat on the small kitchen table accompanied by the small stools. This should have been my first hint something was going down tonight. We normally eat in the dinning-room, but tonight it was set up nicer than usual. Guests must be coming.

Sure enough, about ten minutes into eating my eggs, my host brother comes in the kitchen with the biggest jug of wine I have ever seen. This thing could have easily been 5 gallons of homemade white wine. Seconds later, Justin was whisked away to sit in the dining room as I was left with the two adult females in the kitchen.

A bunch of men arrived and the feast begun in the dining room! The men came with the bbq meat. Excited, I chowed down on one of the most delicious bbq pieces I’ve ever had. Sounds delicious, right? Well, consider this….as I was enjoying my meat, my host family proudly told me that the pig I’m eating was our very own pig. And yes, the cannibal pig I talked about a few posts ago (please read that post if you haven’t). So inside of me right now, I’m digesting a pig that digested her own piglets. I couldn’t help myself finding the situation ironically hilarious, so I tried my hardest to not crack a smile.

Minutes later, my host sister looks at me and goes, “F*** You!” I look at her and she is laughing and asking what does that phrase mean in America. After almost spitting out my tea, I told her that this is not something you tell people and it should never be repeated. Did that work? Of course not, it just created a debate on how it is perfectly okay to say this in Georgia.

As I’m having that discussion, Justin is trying his hardest not to keep up with the Georgian men and their large tolerance of alcohol. Justin was shocked that they did not stop drinking after the 10th glass. Exhausted, I retire to the bedroom alone thinking Justin will follow. Nope, he was still there. So at 11:00 p.m., I give up and attempt to rescue him to get him to bed.

As I’m grabbing Justin downstairs, one of the drunk men sees me and suddenly decided to practice English with me. He got as far as, “What is your name?” Then looks at Justin as said, “Wife Beautiful.” Then the man looks at us and makes a gesture that tonight, Justin should get me pregnant. My reaction at this point was, “of course, he would say that.” My host brother walks out his friend before the discussion could go any further.

I honestly thought taking my mid-training oral language test was today’s main event, but nope, this dinner definitely trumps it.

On Female Safety

A few weeks into my training, I was walking home from school with another female volunteer. Although she lives on another side of town, neither of us wanted to walk home alone because we did not feel safe doing so.

On a small road that was very close to the main street, we stumble upon 5 very drunk men (we were not aware that this day was a holiday). We immediately put our heads down, did not make eye contact and started walking fast arm-in-arm because the men started leering at us. Sure enough, they proceeded to shout what I can only imagine to be derogatory comments in Georgian. At that moment, I felt very grateful that I was not walking home alone. Even though we don’t fluently speak Georgian, their non-verbal behavior was clear.

Troubled by this experience, I informed my teacher. Along with the other female volunteer, we both decided that we should speak with the Peace Corps’ Safety and Security Manager as well. We informed her about the incident in detail among other safety observations of the village. To my pleasant surprise, the Safety and Security Manager left no stone unturned as she took our concern very seriously.

Two days ago, she came to my village and interviewed various host families that have female volunteers. She also interviewed past female volunteers on their perception of our village. Sitting in on two of interviews was very helpful. It helped me understand the behaviors in a Georgian culture context. I was able to connect the dots to form a different picture in my mind. It allowed me the opportunity to have a candid conversation about safety. In both interviews, the families said that they feel very safe in the village.

When I came home later, my host brother informed me that he was troubled by the news. He essentially said that next time, I should take a picture of those men and show him the offenders. He would then make it a personal mission to go and talk to them. Receiving the ample support from my family and the Peace Corps warmed my heart and made me feel much safer.

To be clear, I do want to point out that there are many times I did not feel comfortable walking alone in many American cities. I don’t believe this is a Peace Corps problem or a Georgian problem. I think anybody could feel unsafe in a foreign environment and sometimes it takes time to adapt to the new situation.

What I’ve Learned About Animals

Living in a farming village will sure teach a city girl like me a whole lot about animals!

Here are a few interesting observations I’ve noticed:

  • Cows are way more flexible than you think. All the jokes about cow-tipping has made me think cows are stiff and just stand there eating grass all day. Yesterday, I saw a cow lift up its hind-leg and sniff itself in the behind just like a dog would do. Also, they actually know their way home on their own sometimes. I saw a cow straight walk into my teacher’s drive way only to find it was the family’s cow.
  • Spiders love to stay in one place for an extended period of time. That spider in the outhouse I mentioned a while back…still in the same spot. Which brings me to the next point, their lifespan is longer than I expected. Also, I don’t think Georgians are scared of spiders like some Americans are (cough…cough, me)! I’ve lost count on how many daddy-long-legs I’ve seen that are in people’s homes.
  • Donkeys can rape one another- or at least attempt. I was walking with a bunch of friends last weekend in a different village and we suddenly heard a donkey howling. We saw that a male donkey just jumped on the female’s behind and started humping while biting her neck. The female donkey was able to escape after a few minutes. It looked like how dogs hump each other uninvited, but much more aggressively.
  • Rosters do not just crow when the sun comes up like the movies portray. Those birds go at it all the time! But especially in the morning- like 4:30 a.m.! We hear the rosters wide and clear each morning and I’m not a fan when the sun is not yet shinning.
  • Dogs are not a man’s best friend! Well, at least in Georgia. They are in fact very vicious here and I’ve grown to be afraid. As you are walking down the street, it is a legitimate fear that they will come at you and bite you. In fact, many Peace Corps Volunteers have had to fight them off. Which is why all volunteers in Georgia get Rabies shots, in fact, we just completed our third round a couple of days ago.
  • Mice can eat through walls. For some reason, I assumed they go through already-made cracks in the walls, but no, their teeth never stop growing. How do I know this? Let’s just say I have an unwanted pet in my room that goes by the shape of a mouse. Current fear, stepping on it in the middle of the night. Justin has placed rat poison and the mouse has feasted on all of it. Is it still alive? To be determined….

Early “Routines”

Consider me lucky, but I’ve had access to internet a few times a week already. With internet comes Skype/Facetime, naturally. I’ve talked to a few people back home and the popular questions thus far is how is my daily life thus far.

Here is a run-down:

  • I shower about every 4 days. Don’t say gross, because I’m probably the most showered in my group of volunteers in my village. And no, nobody smells. To be honest, we probably shower too much as Americans because I’m pleasantly surprised how clean everyone still looks and smells with the baby-wipe method. Either way, I’m happy with my shower situation here because mine is indoors and with hot water (I’m so spoiled and I love it!).
  • Washing hands with soap and running water is a LUXURY. I can’t say this enough- baby wipes are my life. There is no soap or running water in my school. In fact, my host family today asked if they could borrow some of my baby wipes and I was shocked considering I never used the baby-wipes in front of them, which gets to my next point….
  • Word gets around fast. Texting in American is snail mail compared to here. Villagers are extremely well-connected. This could be the result of all the uninvited visits people make to each other’s houses. But I can’t say for sure, because I look like an awkward American slowly sipping her tea in front of several Georgians while they talk away. Either way, I like this part of the Georgian culture. It is apparent how everyone puts an effort into their relationships.
  • Some outhouses are better than others. Here is how the point system works with this one- add a point for each of the following: 1) easy hole for aiming- feel free to add two points for this one 2) toilet paper availability 3) sink nearby 4) door to lock 5) enough sunlight peeking through, none I’ve seen have an electric light 6) tiled floor 7) few quantity of bugs/spiders. Here is a tip, do not drop the roll of toilet (or anything else valuable) in the hole. There is no coming back.
  • People actually eat raw vegetables straight up. Ever heard of anyone chowing down on a raw garlic without anything else? My host family just peeled it and just started eating it raw at the dinner table without anything else. It was strong, but I actually enjoy it with them now.
  • I wear multiple jackets- indoors! There is no central heating system and no insulation in the walls. So when it is cold outside, it is sometimes colder indoors. Let’s just say I’m nervous for the winter. Send me your good vibes now.
  • All my meals are cooked for me- I think this is a mostly positive thing. I don’t really have a say on what I’ll be eating, but this is a nice luxury to have especially since how packed our training schedule is every day.

Death of the Piglets

Immediately after I posted my last blog entry (about meeting my host family), this happened…

To set the scene, it was around 11:30 p.m. creeping around midnight. Justin urgently wanted to go to the restroom and I figured I might as well go too. He couldn’t find his headlamp/flashlight or his boots fast enough, so I told him I’ll just go ahead and see him in a few minutes.

Headlamp/flashlight and boots, you ask? Yes, because “going to the restroom” is a 5-minute adventure down the stairs, into an unpaved gravel “road” around the house, into a wooden shed, with a concrete hole in the middle that functions as our “toilet.” Our Outhouse also shares a wall with four large pigs and it is right across the chicken coup. Since it was raining on and off that day and there is no lighting, this is where the boots and headlamp/flashlight come into play. Silver lining, there is one less step because there is no flushing.

Baby wipes in one hand, flashlight in the other, I walk downstairs. I find all the adults outside in bath robes and coats looking distressed. Even though this is only my third night, I knew this was not routine. I see the women walking in and out of the pigs’ den and the men speaking loudly inside with a screaming pig. The invite me inside the pigs’ den. Turns out, the fattest big pig of them all just delivered 9 piglets! The host grandmother starts making an eating/attacking non-verbal expression. Now, I’m just horribly confused.

My host sister (the young mother of the family), knew I had a flashlight, so she takes me to the wheelbarrow located right by the outhouse by the garden. She has me point to the wheelbarrow. You know what I see? I see 3 half-eaten, half-alive piglets!!! Half their body is literally eaten- a scene right out of a horror film. I thought they would be dead, but nope, they were heaving heavily as they were taking their last breath. The mother pig delivered her piglets and then tried to EAT THEM ALL AND BURY THEM.

The host grandfather was still in the den attempting to dig out the rest of the 6 piglets underneath the mother pig’s poop as she dug them there alive half-eaten. I was just literally standing there shocked, helpless, and speechless.

Clearly the family was upset, most likely because they just lost a valuable source of income and clearly energy and time for raising the cannibal mother pig. I, on the hand, never knew pigs do that! So I walk upstairs with my eyes wide open, disturbed.

For the 20 minutes I was down there, Justin did not even come down. He was supposed to come down right after me! After I managed to tell him the story, I don’t think he was ever more grateful for holding it in and waiting. Oh, and he laughed out loud at my expense.