Um, where to start?
How about with the humorous goings on of today? To do that, I should back up a little and
explain where my 6th grade class is.
This is the one where half the kids know English and half don’t. I had split them up, but a week or two ago my
co-teacher said the other half of the kids ask when I will teach them, so I had
to combine the two groups. At the time I
was too tired to argue and just have not felt up to fighting for kids who
didn’t seem to appreciate what I was trying to do for them. So, now I have one group. On Friday, since we were essentially done
with chapter one, I gave them a quiz, not for a grade, but just to see where
they were. As usual, they “helped” each
other, but I tried to keep that to a minimum.
The results were better than I expected.
Some of the kids who had never learned English before were clearly
learning something, and the ones that were totally lost were so mostly because
they misbehaved in class and put forth no effort to learn. Yesterday, my co-teacher had to sub for
another class, so I had to teach alone.
The kids were incredibly noisy, and I confiscated a few notes, balls of
paper, and pen parts (used for spit wads).
Today the teacher was back, and I gave my test. First, I made all the kids get out a fresh
piece of paper (I have yet to see the copier at our school, and teachers don’t
really copy stuff like they do in the States).
Then I moved them around the room to make it harder to look at eachother’s papers. One of my better
students even asked me in Russian if he could sit next to a friend and work
together with him since the friend didn’t know English very well. (Their ideas on academic integrity are very
different from America’s.) I then told them NO TALKING. After the first question, another teacher
came in for a few minutes for something.
I saw a few kids peeking in books or notebooks, so I proceeded to
collect all the kids’ books. At least
one kid looked upset. She just didn’t
know the answer so needed to look it up.
How could I take away her notebook?
Again, they have different ideas.
The quiz proceeded fairly well. About half the kids would ask me or my
co-teacher if an answer was correct, but I ignored them. A few kids tried to cheat, but it was
obvious. I would have gotten more upset
with them but they did not find out much, mostly because their knowledge of who
to cheat off of is of the same quality as their English. After the quiz, I tried to teach them basic
commands in English so that I can yell at them in English (Sit down! Read! Turn around! Be quiet! Write!). In the process of my lesson (which most of
the kids seemed to like), I collected a few notes, as usual. Today, just out of curiosity to see what
nonsense they write during English class, I asked my host family to
translate. My host mom started talking
about Google and websites and then asked where I got the notes and what they
were. Apparently some of the boys have
been looking up internet porn. Of course
this is the note I ask to get translated…awkward.
In addition to that delightful bit of teaching, I came home
today to see smoke billowing from our yard.
My host dad was making homemade vodka.
That is actually awesome.
Being
female, I was not asked to try any. My
host mom also made borscht today. It
might be one of my favorite foods now, especially on a cold winter day.
Speaking of food (which I love to do), last Thursday was an
excellent Georgian day for me. One of my
2nd graders turned 7, so she had a birthday party in class. I got invited, score! Her aunt (because her parents live in Spain) made a
huge cake that reminded me of Cinderella.
She also made khachapuri and brought in chocolate, persimmons, grapes,
soda, and homemade liqueur. I watched
with interest as she set things up. Each
kid got some khachapuri, fruit, and cake.
(Interesting side note: Georgians cut big round cakes like this in an
ingenious fashion. They cut out a circle
in the center and then make the usual slices, so you don’t have that awkward
super narrow part that makes plating the cake so difficult.) You have to toast when you drink alcohol
here. Thankfully, they gave the kids soda instead. Still, watching 2nd graders toast
to each other is adorable. After the
kids left for the day (at the end of that period), the teachers and aunt set up
a table for themselves. We feasted on
the food and drank the homemade liqueur.
I have no idea what it was, but it was good. We also toasted the girl (and ourselves,
among other things). The 2nd
grade teacher translated most of her toast for me. She toasted the girl, talking about how good
of girl she was, how she was a big girl (it’s been too long since that was
viewed as a positive in my world, so that threw me for a loop at first), and
wishing her long life, health, and especially marriage to a Georgian husband. They start these kids early on these ideas.
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| Khachapuri-sour cheese and bread, also known as the delicious reason I first started to love Georgia |
After stuffing myself, I went home, fended off lunch, and
then watched with interest as my host mom started making dough and meat. I was in luck! My host family made khinkali-the most
Georgian of Georgian dishes. I had tried them out before, but this was my first
time eating homemade khinkali. They even
let me try to make a few sorry looking khinkalis. I again stuffed myself. It was a banner day for me in Georgia.
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| Khinkali in progress |
Saturday was also a great day. The weather here has been hovering in the
40s. We have a stove in the kitchen that
keeps that room toasty now, so I spend most of my days there. Nighttime in my unheated room had gotten
unbearable. Thus, I went on Saturday to Tbilisi to buy a space
heater. I spent a wonderful day
wandering around the market, checking off things on my shopping list. When I was headed to a mall to buy an English
book for my sister, I ran into one of the guys from my training group. This is what I love about Georgia. I was not anywhere touristy or even
prominent. He was as shocked to meet me
as I was him. I took him with me to the
mall to show him there was more than just clothing stores out of our price
range there. He informed me of the
wonderful news that the CARDS WON! Or,
as Grandpa Sam would say, the good guys won.
I don’t care about many sports, but it would be impossible for me not to
be a Cards fan. Would have loved to be
in St. Louis on
Friday night. Regardless, I am in Georgia and
soaking that up. We ended up meeting up
with more friends at the market, and I had a delightful time in addition to
getting some shopping done. I then came
home to the best part of the day.
While I was shopping in Tbilisi, my host mom called me to say that a
package had arrived for me at the police station. I was shocked, for I had no idea who could
have sent it. I knew my mom had sent a
package, but that had been barely 2 weeks ago and had been in New Jersey the last time we had
checked. I was also thrilled that a
package had arrived. Georgia’s
postal system recently was privatized, but in general, they don’t have one like
we do. Most people, when they need to
send things across the country, put it on a marshrutka (mini bus) that’s headed
in that direction and tell the recipient to be there for that marshrutka. It costs a few lari and seems to be fairly
efficient. So, things like addresses are
sometimes hard to uncover, since no one knows them. There is no mailman who brings your mail each
day. I’ve heard lots of stories about
how packages from the US
get delivered eventually, so I was curious to see how my mom’s package would
appear, if at all. I asked her to put my
host dad’s name on it. Since he’s a cop,
they sent the package to the police station.
It got from Springfield
to Manglisi in 15 days. I was floored
and rather excited. I was expecting it
to take at least a month and maybe only make it as far as Tbilisi.
Instead, it was waiting for me when I got home, so I opened it in front
of my family and neighbor. It felt like
the best Christmas ever. We all oohed
and ahhed over the Reeese’s (they were gone quickly), perfume (my host family
was so excited about samples of perfume), nail polish, a sweater, other
American food, stickers, and other things my mom had thought to put in the
package. From practical things like
batteries and face wash to fun things like play-doh, my mom did an awesome job,
and America felt a little closer. That plus the space heater made for a good night.
The next day, thinking that there were still Reese’s left
and craving one, I looked in my box. I
did not find any, so I looked around my room.
I still found none, even though I was sure there were still some left
from the night before. I freaked out a
little, thinking my host family had taken the candy from my room, to the extent
that I went into the kitchen to ask them if anyone had eaten them. I got negative responses. I could have just miscalculated, but I went
through and could not find a few other snacks.
At this point, I was frustrated and angry and realizing how limited I
was by my lack of Georgian. They could
have merely been confused by me being upset over candy we had eaten the night
before or they could have been talking about how one of them had eaten the rest
of the candy. I have no idea. I was disappointed about the Reese’s, but
more so, I was upset about the idea of my family taking my stuff. I share with my family a lot-I frequently let
them use my internet, camera, and DVDs.
They generally ask about these things, and I am usually happy to
share. I still have this American sense
that my stuff is my property. Georgians
don’t have such individualistic ideas about property, especially within a
family. My sisters and mom share
clothes, even though they are different sizes.
I’m not 100% sure that my host family even took stuff from my room, but
just in case, I decided to start locking up my stuff. Of course, I don’t lock up the valuable stuff
like my camera, but rather the stuff I don’t want to share, like M&Ms and
peanut butter. Priorities. I think this is a cultural issue rather than
a moral one (while in America
we would see this as stealing, in Georgia, since I am part of the
family, this is normal), and during our cultural training, we discussed similar
situations.
It bothered me for about a day. I also knew I was spending all day on the
computer so that they would not ask to borrow my modem because I did not feel
like sharing. Then I got over my craving
for Reese’s and rationality set in. I
will be able to eat Reese’s for the rest of my life, but they won’t. I also started feeling convicted about being
a “cheerful giver”. Normally I am, but
lately I had started feeling slightly bitter about it. I think a lot of
volunteers struggle with similar issues in a host family. Yes, the family has opened its home to us and
feeds us. They treat us well, often
serving us (since Georgians are so hospitable) and taking good care of us. Most boys don’t do laundry, clean a dish, or
maybe even know where their food comes from for the length of their homestay. We also pay them each month to offset
costs. So, when host families without
internet or a computer want to use the volunteer’s, they volunteer has a
choice. They can share or they can make
sure their lifeline to the outside world does not get broken or a virus,
etc. I generally share with my family,
but definitely needed that reminder that 1)I’m an American who will enjoy a
lifetime of luxuries and 2)I’m a Christian who has been incredibly blessed and have no room to begrudge people what they ask of me (especially a wonderful host family). So, I’m trying to be better about that. I still have a lock on my suitcase because I
think it is a good preventative measure for avoiding issues in the future, but
I am more open to sharing what they ask to use.
My neurosis about MBs has to give way to letting them use my modem. It also forces me to unplug for a while and
talk to my host family, work on a horrible attempt at a scarf, actually work on
my lessons, or study a bit.
I’m off to Armenia
on Friday, so I’m sure I will have more adventures to tell then.
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