Relating to The Idiot More Than I'd Like

Is there ever a good time to relate to a Russian novel?  Probably not.  Still…

The Idiot is a novel written by Fyodor Dostoevsky with the premise of how people would receive Jesus if he came to Petersburg society, or something to that effect.  The main character, a prince, returns to Russia after spending several years in Switzerland, for his health.  He sometimes has “fits”, some people think he is an idiot, and he is incredibly unassuming, compassionate, and genuine.  It’s a good read, and I finally finished it today.

I started reading The Idiot (this go-round) soon after I got back to Georgia in the cold, dark days of winter.  I was still adjusting to Georgian culture again, feeling a bit out of it, and spending my days by the pechka in order to keep warm.  Thus, when the opening chapter of the book shows the hero as suffering from Petersburg cold in clothes unsuited for the Russian winter and feeling quite confused and foreign despite being back in a place he’s been before, I connected with that feeling of being cold and alien.

I have been reading the book off and on all semester but started to get deeper into the story while traveling in Turkey.  I noticed I was extraordinarily sore while in Trabzon, but was not totally convinced I was sick until I got back to Georgia and slept all afternoon and all night after I got back.  I ached all over, my chest hurt, and I was miserable. I had no respiratory symptons, and actually my respiratory system was feeling better than it had in months, so I didn’t think I had the flu.  Then Dr. Mom informed me that I had hallmark flu symptons and could actually have the flu without any respiratory problems.  This happens, of course, the one year I decide to get a flu shot.  Suffice to say, my first two days back in my village were mostly spent on my bed, sleeping or resting and dreaming of Robitussin Cold, Cough, and Flu.

This does relate back to the book, I promise.  Aside from being miserable, I found that I understood the main character’s life a bit better.  I understood feeling feverish and confused much more than I had a few months earlier, which is good, since the prince spends about half of the book feeling feverish, confused, or upset.  Suprisingly, feeling feverish and a bit out of it made teaching easier, since everything felt a bit surreal.  Thus the prince’s feverish dreams that collide with reality and make him unsure of what he was previously convinced was true seemed much more believable.

I was already starting to feel like I was relating to the book a bit too much for my own comfort before yesterday, when the parallels heightened.  I had spent the weekend picnicking at the Tbilisi Botanical Gardens and making burgers with some friends, trying to give my body some rest instead of haring off on another adventure as planned.  I accidentally grabbed a friend’s phone (since they all look the same) and so yesterday had to return to Tbilisi to give it back to her.  Try living without a phone-you feel handicapped more than you’d think.  It meant I had a lot of time to spend on the marshrutka and read my book for part of the time, mostly about Pavlovsk society, gossips, and courtship intrigues.  When I got back to my village, I took the long way home and got a phone call when I was close to home that made me feel like I was in a Russian novel.

Several months ago, the gym teacher, and mother of one of my 5^th grade boys, told me she had a very handsome single male relative she wanted me to meet.  I listened to her detail his attributes, nodded, and smiled, assuming that this, like all other talk of matchmaking to get me stay in Georgia, would come to nothing.  After eight months of hearing people tell me I should marry a Georgian and stay here forever, I actually found one who did something about it.

Nanuli, the gym teacher, called me, asking me to meet her.  I then saw my host sisters and friends walking, and then we saw Nanuli.  They clearly knew she was looking for me.  I went to talk to her and she shooed her son away.  She also tried to talk quietly, since she did not want the woman who lived nearby to overhear.  I felt almost like I was in middle school.  Since when had talk of a boy elicited so much secrecy?  Regardless, she said her relative had finally come to Manglisi, told me again how handsome and strong he was, and said he had to leave the next day again, so I should meet him that night.  Trapped, I agreed to rest a bit and then meet him.

My host sisters, who had clearly been involved in this, had waited for me.  I assume that they had given the gym teacher my phone number, and that she had run across them while they were out walking, or the gym teacher had come to my house looking at me.  Regardless, the addition of intermediaries struck me as similar to the book, when third parties are always relaying messages or notes or gossip.

We got home, were fed, and my host mom asked me what Nanuli wanted.  I told her that she wanted me to meet this relative.  She asked why.  For some unknown reason, I was totally honest with her: because Nanuli wants me to marry him.  This caused laughter all around.  If nothing else, this was helping me bond with my host family.

A little after dinner, I went out, where I was supposed to meet either the relative or Nanuli by the park, but when I walked out of my house, I saw her.  We walked together to the relative’s parents’ house as she told me about how wonderful he was.  We got to the house early, since the guy had been visiting friends.  When he came in, I remembered that Georgians are very attractive and then age very quickly, so 32 meant that he looked older and less attractive than I was hoping for, especially since Nanuli had told me how attractive he was.  She also said he was great at Russian, which, perhaps because he was at least a bit drunk due to meeting his friends, was not that true.

I thought the whole thing would be painfully awkward, but eventually the mother came home and started putting out food like all good Georgian mothers do.  Mostly the Georgians talked amongst themselves, occasionally translating.  I did feel like a girl on display, with her matchmaker trying to entice eligible men with her excellent qualities as Nanuli boasted I was good at Georgian (and made me utilize my limited Georgian) and was always studying while the teachers chatted (which I’ve only done a few times).  She also mentioned that I am always the one to remind the teachers to ring the bell (since they are always too busy chatting and sometimes I can’t stand it so I mention it).  When it was discovered that the guy didn’t like coffee, Nanuli and the guy’s parents all thought this was a wonderful similarity, as in ‘aren’t they perfect for each other, they both hate coffee and like tea’ kind of way.

In The Idiot, the main character often feels at a loss for how to act appropriately in situations.  I could definitely relate to that.  How does one act when meeting a Georgian man the villagers think you should marry?  They don’t really teach you that, although it seems like something girls in Russian novels probably were taught.  I, instead, felt out of place and hoped I didn’t do anything stupid, which the prince often worries about.  While I have no interest in marrying said relative, I also don’t have any interest in causing a “scandal” (to borrow from The Idiot) or causing any problems in my village.  I’ve tried very hard to remain a good girl in my village and for everyone to approve of my actions and would like that to continue for the next two months.

I think I managed to end the night without doing anything damaging, and then went home and tried to relate everything to my host mom.  Of course, in The Idiot, people manage to recount events perfectly.  I was tired and could only remember bits and pieces.  Today, at school, Nanuli caught me on my way out the door. She said that the guy liked me and was worried this morning that it might have been obvious last night that he was drunk.  I smiled, told her that it was fine, and went on my way.

My neighbor invited my host mom and me for tea today.  My host mom told her about the meeting, so she asked if I was going to get married.  I told her probably not, and as an afterthought realized that subtlety was maybe not the best way to go about it.  The fact that I laughed probably kept them from thinking there was anything serious in it.

I think my village really is trying to get me to stay.  My fourth grade girls keep showering me with seed bead jewelry.  It’s quite pretty, even if some of the beads are neon orange and the bracelet I got today fits a fourth grader and not her American teacher who has eaten too much white bread and too many potatoes in Georgia.  I got flowers last week from a fifth grader and yesterday from an eleventh grader.  They just pick them from someone’s yard, but still, the daffodils are lovely.  Some of my kids have given me drawings, and I can’t leave third grade without getting kisses and hugs from a few girls.  Not to mention that the whole set-up is apparently largely due to the concern of one of my fifth grade boys, who has been very concerned about me marrying a Georgian.

Like The Idiot, my story starts off about where it started.  I’m healthy and still very single, but the whole adventure has made me appreciate Dostoevsky a little bit more, if nothing else.

Turkey Round 2: Part 7: My Idea of Heaven

In case it wasn't obvious what the focus in Rize was on...

 Even though I spent only a few hours in Rize, it has by far been my favorite place, probably because it is a city built on tea.  Caykur, the big Turkish tea company, is based in Rize, or at the very least is a huge presence in the city.  The soccer team is named after the company, the buses have the logo plastered on them, and there are tea plantations all around.  

Before we could go to tea heaven, however, we wanted to step into an interworld between Turkey and Georgia: Land of the Laz.  The Laz people speak a Caucasian language (Georgian’s language family) and have a distinct culture.  Turkish Laz and Georgian Laz have developed their own cultures, even though both are now only small minorities in their respective countries.  Off the main square in Rize is a Turkish Laz restaurant we knew we had to try.  It might be the coolest restaurant I’ve ever been to, since it was also a mini-ethnographic museum of Laz culture. We ate in the garden and felt as though we truly had stepped away from the city of Rize that buzzed by outside our oasis.  Thankfully they had a picture menu so we decided to split three things.  One was a cheesy fondue version of mchadi, a Georgian cornmeal treat.  Another was a mix of veggies and meat that tasted like a sausage pizza.  The third was cabbage leaves wrapped around meat and rice.  All three were delicious so we ordered two more dishes, one like a liquid omelet and the other like a gritty mchadi omelet crushed into pieces.  I know half of this makes no sense.  Just understand it was all delicious, and we had all enjoyed our Final Feast very much. 

Round 1 of lunch

The amazing Laz Restaurant, Evvel Zeman

We took a taxi up the hill to the Botanical Tea Garden, our second sight in Rize.  It would have been an energetic climb had we not been weighed down with our bags.  Regardless, at the top was not only a place dedicated to tea, but several beautiful flowering trees and spectacular views of Rize.   

Terraced tea plants and other pretty scenery from our tea spot

 We started off with a glass of tea each and then saw people next to us ordering a pot.  The really cool thing is that you get a pot of essence of tea on top of a pot of hot water so you can have several cups adjusted to your desired strength.  If there had been a beach within walking distance, I would have been in heaven and might have refused to ever leave.  Instead, I drank several cups of tea, admired the gorgeous views, and spent most of my remaining money on tea for me and others.

Making myself tea

The 4 of us in our tea oasis, with the tea pot as it came

With a brief stop to enjoy Turkish treats and buy some baklava for gifts (if it lasts past today), we found a bus to the border and eventually started our last bus ride in Turkey, a very bittersweet feeling.

Turkey Round 2: Part 6: An Uneventful Easter

It took little time once back in Trabzon to get back to the center and check into the same hotel we had stayed in before, which was even cheaper than we had expected.  On the ride from the airport, I had a delightful conversation with a Turkish woman who was clearly trying her hardest to use her limited English.  Both because she was doing better than she thought and because she was clearly trying so hard, I was so pleased and sincerely wished my students were like that.

We grabbed some tea on the square before returning to the hotel to meet up with two other friends.  We then walked around a bit and enjoyed another delicious dinner along the waterfront.  We stopped and got a selection of pastries to enjoy back at the hotel, where we met a fascinating American from Seattle.  He sat, ate, and drank with us for several hours, sharing stories of his travels on ships and planes around the world, and swapping Turkey stories.

The next morning we made our friends try their first and only real Turkish breakfast before taking a 10am bus to Sumela, an orthodox monastery about an hour away, set along the side of the hill.  Our new friend joined us for the journey as well, and at the monastery we ran into another group of TLGers on their way out of the monastery.  The small-world syndrome of Georgia had been transported to Turkey with the vast swathes of TLGers overrunning the border for our Easter break.

The monastery is impressive mostly for its position, perched on the edge of a dubious cliff.  It was built around the 1300s by Greek Orthodox Christians living in the area and was active for centuries.  After WWI, when the Greeks in the area were sent back to Greece, the monastery lay empty, and only a few years ago were services allowed to resume.  There are several beautiful frescoes both inside and outside the chapel, although many of the faces have been destroyed by sling shots or other means.  Still, the craftsmanship is impressive, especially as the painting adjusts to the natural curvature of the rock in some places.

We had a glass of tea (notice a theme yet?) and a snack before heading back to Trabzon.  As it was our last night in Turkey, we wanted to truly feast, but having skipped lunch, gave in to food at about 4:30 after finding the market mostly closed.  We found a place where we could point to what we wanted and then wandered over to a dessert stand, where I got a baked rice pudding I had previously tried and really enjoyed.  They also threw in our tea for free because Turks are simply wonderful. 

Then two of my friends went back to make use of the internet and another friend and I kept wandering, hoping to finish our shopping.  We found a lot closed or not what we wanted, but at a home goods store, I managed to find both a set of Turkish tea glasses for me and a present for my host family.  We also happened upon the caravanserai, a beautiful stone building that was the basis for the market, where caravans could sell their wares.  Then we headed back to the hotel, chatted with our friends and new American friend for a while longer, and decided to find more food since we now had more room for deliciousness in our stomachs. 

We were trying to find a place with atmosphere, real food, and desserts but had trouble finding all three in a place still open and not stifling.  Eventually, after spotting two fights we assumed were related to the Trabzonites fanatical love of their soccer team and loss that night, found a place on the square that would let us sit out on the square.  We all tried to order soup and tea, with one order of meatballs and a salad, but again, the Turks knew better than we did.  They also brought out some bulgar pilaf, a red sauce that tasted like Mexican food, that I, of course, adored, and another salad.  They also threw in some baklava.  We were bracing for a large bill, but found the bill very reasonable, since several items had been thrown in gratis.

Stuffed and delighted with Turkey, we headed back to our hotel, very sad to leave.  The next morning we said goodbye to Thomas, grabbed a quick breakfast at the market next door, and headed to the bus station, with a bit of difficulty.  It took us no time at all to find a bus heading to Rize, our last stop on our tour of Turkey.

Turkey Round 2: Part 5: Another Day, Another Wonder of the Ancient World

It was another early night to continue to another early morning to catch a 7:30 bus to Bodrum.  It was supposed to be the nice, non-stop bus, but the bus stopped frequently along the way, including once when we entered the Bodrum peninsula where we had to surrender our passports at some unexplained security check.  When we got to Bodrum, we were immediately assaulted with British English, as my friend had warned me the area was popular with British tourists.  It took us a bit to find a place where we were willing to fork over a bit more than we had planned, but we found a cute place with a nice little courtyard that would keep out much of the noise of the bustling night life and the wind, which was even worse than it had been on the way to Samos.

With only an afternoon to explore Bodrum, we headed first to the Tomb of Mausolus at Halicarnassus, also known as the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus, the third of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World I’ve seen in my life.  Unlike the Temple of Artemis, there was actually an entrance fee, but there was far more substance to the site as well, even though Crusaders and then the British Museum had carted most of the ancient tomb away.  There was a short video explaining the history.  Mausolus was a Persian satrap in the 300s BC who moved his capital to Halicarnassus and began a series of building projects.  After his death (or during his life, depending upon which site you visit), his sister/wife Artemisia commissioned the tomb to honor his greatness.  The four best sculptures from the time period worked on the four different sides of the tomb, which looked a lot like a temple with its columns and statues.  Even after she also died, they continued work on the tomb, since its greatness would also be a monument to their skill as well.

The museum also had a three page excerpt from a Crusader explaining how the Crusaders had discovered the tomb and carted most of the stones away to help build the castle in Bodrum.  The letter even details how they found a sarcophagus at the end of a day of work.  When they returned the next day, the sarcophagus was empty, having been looted by pirates that night…or so they say.  The site also does its best to explain what archeologists and historians know about how the tomb looked and various artistic renderings.  Then we got to wander around in the ruins with more British tourists.

From there we headed to the Castle of St. Peter, the Crusader fort that sits right on the water in Bodrum.  It now holds the Museum of Underwater Archeology…aka sweet shipwreck finds.  The site is doubly awesome for allowing you to explore a Crusader fort and showing you shipwrecks from the 14^th century BC to the 11^th century AD.  Apparently Texas A&M has an awesome underwater archeology program that was responsible for finding many of these shipwrecks and preserving the artifacts found on them.  They even built a life-size replica of a Byzantine ship, which fills the chapel of the castle.  Either because so many shipwrecks contained hundreds of amphora, or because the locals still have a thing for them after several thousand years, the museum has hundreds of amphorae on display, including several from different time periods and origins arranged in a circle as if they were taking part in a classical Greek symposium.  There are also plenty of ingots, glass from as far back as the 14^th century BC (my favorite find), coins, tools for cooking and ship repair, jewelry, and other remnants of civilizations gone by.

Having achieved our goal of seeing the two sites in Bodrum we were after and finding the city far too windy to allow for an enjoyable swim, we enjoyed some more tea and set off for the ancient city gates.  They have been reconstructed, with donations from Turkcell and Erickson, which seems like a clash of total modernity and antiquity, but it gave me a good idea of what the gates looked like.  I would have stood on the edge, except the wind was so brutal, I was afraid it might carry me over the edge.

We sat at the marina, hoping to watch the sun set over the sea.  Unfortunately, clouds marred our view, but we figured out our tea spot was run by the Mariner’s Association and put all funds back into the community, which we both thought was very cool.  We also found a great dessert spot and indulged in some Turkish goodies.  Dinner was another Lonely Planet recommendation-the fish market.  There are restaurants mixed in with fish stalls, so you can pick out your fish and have a restaurant prepare it fresh for you.  Not a big lover of fish, I just had some soup, saving room for more dessert.  We capped off the night with dessert and Misha wine in the courtyard of our pansiyon.

Breakfast at the pansiyon was another delicious incarnation of the Turkish breakfast and then we headed off to catch a bus to the airport.  The day before a man at the bus station had simply told us to show up two hours before our flight at the bus station.  We were a bit dubious of these instructions, since the airport was a fair distance away and an expensive taxi was our only other option.  Breakfast took longer than we expected, but we still got to the bus at least half an hour before we needed to.  Thankfully, since we were flying the budget arm of Turkish airlines, we could take this bus (another 18 lira for the privilege) to the airport, which is still undergoing major construction and seems to process about one flight at a time.  The airport had free wi-fi, though, which was a bonus.  We had a short layover in Ankara, and even though we were flying a budget airline, got a cheese sandwich and tea on each leg of our journey. 

Turkey Round 2: Part 4: Hopping over to Greece

For some reason, I am willing to wake up at 6:30 on vacation but my body rebels at my 8am alarm for school on a daily basis.  Having woken up so early, we had another great breakfast before getting picked up and taken to the port about half an hour away.  On the way, we passed not one but two kitschy water parks, one of which had 3 Russian-inspired onion domes, which made me laugh.  Kusadasi, the port city, also had lots of fancy beach resorts and shopping, which made me very glad I had given no thought to staying there.  It took about two hours to get to Samos, the majority of which I spent in the cabin of the ferry, trying to avoid the wind.  The sun had not come out yet, making my idea of going swimming seem dimmer and dimmer.  It was not terrible, since I was able to chat with some Australian backpackers the whole way there.  Once off the boat, we found out we had missed the bus to where we wanted to go, so decided to achieve our second goal of the day: feasting on Greek food.  The Greek salad really was amazing, but it might not have seemed so glorious had I not been deprived of my requisite number of veggies for so long.  I also had a gyro, and the tzatziki sauce was delicious.  We then caught the bus to Pythagoreion.  It’s named after Pythagoras, the mathematical genius who was born on the island.  We knew there was a temple of Hera and a tunnel we wanted to see in town, as well as some other sites.  We mostly wandered along until we found signs.  We walked up to a beautiful monastery that seems to have been built around a grotto church.  We did not see a single person on our trek up there, so it had a very eerie stillness I liked.  We eventually found the Eupalian Tunnel, which was built in the 6^th century BC.   It was only the second tunnel in the world to be built with crews digging from both sides.  The calculations thus needed to be exact, but the brilliant designer did not want to take any chances, so designed the tunnel to be a bit bigger and angled in the center to ensure the two sides met. 

The tunnel was built to serve as an underground aquaduct, funneling water from the top of the mountain down to the city in a protected manner, in case of siege.  Herodotus mentions it in his writings, which led to the long-forgotten tunnel’s rediscovery in the 1950s.  

While Samos might seem like another idyllic Greek island one can hop, it actually has a long history and was a major player in the region when the Greeks ruled that part of the world.  Since Greece has so much ancient history, and since the ruins on Samos are not that well preserved, we would walk along streets and see a few stones in among wildflowers and weeds.  There would then be a lovely brown sign telling us that this was the Temple of Aphrodite or some other ancient building.  The Roman baths were fairly well preserved and had a lovely view of the sea.

We put our feet in the water while waiting for our bus back to the port.  Having a handful of Euros left to spend, we sat down for tea/coffee.  They actually gave us cream and a few cookies as well, which was a win.  Turkish tea is wonderful but is only accompanied by sugar cubes, and Georgians never put milk in their tea, so creamy, sugary tea tasted like heaven.  We eventually got back on the boat, where I napped for part of the time.  On the way back into Turkey, we stopped and grabbed our 1L limit of Jack Daniels, since the guy who had sold us our ferry tickets had asked that we bring it back for him, since taxes on hard alcohol in Turkey are extremely high.

Once we found our bus back to Selcuk, we dropped off the whiskey and had more tea as we chatted with our travel agent and an American girl who was there working on the travel agency’s website.  We then ate dinner in this adorable courtyard that had lemon and orange trees growing in the middle of it. I had a plate of mezes, or appetizers, and was in heaven with the veggies, hummus, and yogurt dishes.

Turkey Round 2: Part 3: Ephesus at last

We got back from Sardis just in time for one of my friends to head to the airport but too late to meet up with another friend.  My other friend and I got some dinner, wandered around the bazaar, and headed back to the otogar to take a bus to Selcuk.  Thankfully, unlike Georgian transportation, most buses left within five minutes of us getting on them, and this one was no different.  We arrived at Selcuk, grabbed some tea and dessert at an ice cream place, and then found our pansiyon before crashing after a long day.   

We got up early to another delicious Turkish breakfast with unlimited tea and then, taking the advice of our hostess, walked to Ephesus.  We entered through the gate most people exit, so the ancient theater was practically empty upon our arrival.  We started to see crowds as we wandered toward the library but did not see swarms of tourists until we looked toward the main street, which was filled.  Somehow, we managed to cross most of the tourists and had a relatively easy time seeing the rest of the site.  It’s pretty extraordinary how much they were able to recover, as well as how much classical debris they just have lying about.  So many columns and architectural finishes that pleased me to no end but made me wish I remembered more about them!  In addition to the center of town, the harbor road is somewhat restored.  Along that road is the Church of St. Mary, which was the main church in Ephesus until the Basilica of St. John was built.  Mary’s house is another tourist site near Ephesus, but it is about 10km away and the links between the house and Mary (as in the Virgin Mary) seemed too dubious to make the trek.

After a few hours, we walked back to town, stopping at the remains of the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus.  There’s one column and a lot of debris left where the magnificent temple once stood.  Still, it checked #2 of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World off my list and gave me the chance to climb on the one remaining column, so I considered it a success.  After another tea break, we headed into the mosque in town, which still functions but when we walked in only served as a tourist trap.  We then headed to St. John’s basilica, in the shadow of the fortress.  The basilica is now in ruins, but if it were still standing, it would be the 7^th largest church in the world.  It also holds the tomb of St. John, as in the writer of the Gospel of John, which people believe he wrote on the hill in Ephesus (now in Selcuk), where the fortress now stands.  It was pretty cool to see his tomb and where he wrote my favorite gospel at one time, especially on a beautiful day with flowers blooming around the ruins of the basilica.  While both churches in Ephesus/Selcuk were built far after Paul and John lived here, it was still a lot to think about that a town known for its pagan temple also sheltered two of Christianity’s greatest men, had a long history of Christianity, but now exists in a 99% Muslim country.

Sadly, the fortress is closed to visitors, as I would have loved to check it out as well.  It’s from the Byzantine era, and all the signs said that maybe it was built to honor John, since it sits upon the hill he wrote his gospel on.  With all this to soak in, we headed to a cute little café, clearly owned by Westerners, for tea/coffee and hummus.  Thus restored, we set off for the Ephesus museum, which housed remnants of the town that Western powers had not managed to cart away to their museums but were too small or important to be housed at the site.  Among other fragments of statues and columns were the head and fist of Domitian, a Roman emperor who granted Ephesus the right to have an emperor cult, and thus they built him a giant statue 3x the size of the actual man.  The museum also had a mini ethnographic museum showing Turkish life from around the 1800s, but after all the ancient glory, it seemed far less interesting than it normally would have.  We stopped for tea and then decided to investigate whether it was possible to go to Rhodes after all.  We wandered into the nearest travel agent and found out we could have gone to Rhodes had we not made plans to fly home on Saturday, but we could change our bus tickets for the next day and go to the Greek island of Samos the very next day.  Thus, we went from staying in Selcuk one night to three nights.   

We walked around the cute touristy town for a while and then headed back to our pansiyon, exhausted.  We really liked Selcuk, since it is easy to get around in, has lots of restaurants and tourist shops, but in April was not overflowing with tourists or pushy salespeople.  I also have to admit that I had heard more English, especially American English, than I had heard in a very long time, and I liked it.  Perhaps that means I’ve been away too long as American accents now seem comforting.

Turkey Round 2: Part 2: Helpful Turks, Lesson 2 and Ancient Ruins, Lesson 1

Written on the bus from Izmir to Selcuk last night

I realized today that I had left out a few details about our first day of the trip and details on Turkey.  Our hotel happened to be right next to a mosque, so about 4am, I got woken up by the call to prayer.  Definitely don’t get that at home.

In Georgia, I sometimes encounter Turkish toilets, so they can be disappointing but I’m used to them.  And they are called Turkish toilets.  Still, from the moment we got to Turkey until we hit our apartment in Izmir, all I saw were Turkish toilets, including our hotel in Trabzon and the airport there.  Beautiful bathrooms with Turkish toilets.  Sigh.

On the plane, I asked one of my friends where in the city we were staying.  He replied he did not know, but it could not be that big of a city.  My other friend and I laughed and told him it was Turkey’s 3^rd largest city, and I whipped out my Lonely Planet to astonish us all with the fact that there are 2.7 million people in Izmir.  We knew that our adventure had just grown a bit more.

When we arrived in Izmir, we tried to find a café with wifi.  Although knowing they have to exist, we had difficulty and were so hungry that we finally sat down at a place with cool chairs (this tends to be the way we pick our fast food joints out of the many that Turkey offers).  Of course, we happened upon a place that served only a few items of food, so we got tea and toast, which was what they offered.  There were two old men sitting next to us, smoking their water pipes, thumbing their worry beads, perhaps the perfect picture of what I assume Turkish old men to be like.  That plus energy from food and tea set us off again, resigned to find an internet café in hopes our couchsurfing host had sent us directions.  She had not, so we told her we would meet her at 8 and set off for more food and again hopes of wifi so I could use Skype to try to call our host.  We wandered into the bazaar and were approached after a while of looking confused by helpful Turk #2 (these are only the ones I’m pointing out, but the majority of people we’ve met have been so helpful and friendly, like in Georgia).  He had lived in Norfolk, which pleased me greatly.  He tried to help us find an internet café (having not understood we wanted wifi, probably because of the age difference more than the language barrier).  He took us through the maze of the bazaar and eventually handed us off to a friend, who plunged us deeper into the maze.  Once he took us to a café that had computers, we explained we really needed to call a friend, so he whipped out his phone for us to use.  Our host confirmed she would meet us at 8pm, we thanked helpful Turk #3, and then decided it was time for more tea.

A note about the tea.  Although people probably think of Turkish coffee when they think of Turkish drinks, the Turks actually grow and consume quite a bit of tea, which more reason I adore this country.  Tea is frequently served in tiny tulip cups, so drinking several cups of tea at a time is just normal.  So far my record is 8 in a day, but that’s because I keep interrupting these tea sessions with traveling and sightseeing.  I’ll do better soon, I promise.

Once filled up with more tea, with more time to kill, we walked along the boardwalk in Izmir.  Now comes the note about Izmir.  Izmir is a big modern city on the Aegean Sea, built around a bay, with development all around.  It has a long and storied history, being the ancient city of Smyrna, home to one of the seven churches in Revelation.  It would be a much bigger player in modern Turkey (as in, a rival to Istanbul for culture) but much of the city was destroyed a little less than a century ago in a terrible fire.  The main draw of Izmir for me was the water, and it has a lovely boardwalk.

We walked along the boardwalk, grabbed our first real kebab and more tea (of course), before meeting our host.  She was a really interesting Turkish woman who spoke excellent English.  She had just come home a month before from studying abroad so had arranged for us to stay with her friends.  Her friends also owned a café, so she took us there where she fed us tea, chatted with us about Turkey and Georgia, and then invited us to play a game similar to mafia with the other patrons, many of whom were also friends.  These people were decidedly not your average Turks, but they were incredibly welcoming.  The long days of travel and chance to hear Turkish while trying to discern by body language who was good and who was bad, while still figuring out the rules to the game meant I did a horrible job playing the game but still had fun.  We then went to the apartment we were staying at and regaled them with more stories of Georgia before crashing much later than we had expected. 

We had a leisurely morning, found delicious pastries and tea for breakfast, and headed off to find the bus station to get to Cesme, a peninsula that had a castle and a beach.  Our host had told us that we could take a ferry to get downtown, where we could take a bus to said bus station, and all of us enjoyed getting to use a ferry as a form of transportation, especially as it was faster than taking the metro around the city.  We got off, took a while to find the bus stop we needed, and then realized the buses did not have all the stops written on them so we were going to have to ask for help.  A group of giggly school girls got off one bus and stood around waiting for another.  They were intrigued by us foreigners and clearly spoke at least a bit of English, so I asked them for which bus to take us to the necessary bus station.  Their English was limited but they not only got us on the right bus, but they got off with us at the bus station and found us the bus we needed (helpful Turk(s) #4.  Our bus left a few minutes later and drove through luscious countryside that would have made my jaw drop coming from Illinois.  Having survived a long winter, the green was a very welcome sight, but as one friend pointed out, the beauty of Georgia had made the beauty of Turkey a little less awe-inspiring. 

Once we got to Cesme, we oriented ourselves and headed for the beach.  I was expecting something with a bit more grandeur than what we found.  Next to the man-made sand beach, there were some beautiful rocks, so we decided to swim there.  Getting into the water was tricky with broken glass, slippery rocks, and cold water making getting in a challenge, but the reward was worth it.  After adjusting to the water, I relished the freedom of swimming.  I swam over to a small cove to investigate and then enjoyed the open, clear water, using my arm muscles more than I had in several months.  I marveled at the scenery around me.  Aside from the Caribbean, it is the most beautiful place I have ever gone swimming, and only my tired muscles and realization my friends were all swum out brought me back to shore.

We found more tea and I ate another kebab, since they’re cheap, tasty, and easy to order.  Then we went to climb on the Genoese castle but were disappointed to find out that it was closed, since the museum inside it was closed on Mondays.  We walked around it and then realized that it was starting to rain, so we headed to the bus station.  We had about half an hour to kill, so got more tea.  I decided to pop into the nearby grocery store for something sweet to go with our second cup of tea.  I quickly found baklava, had no problem ordering three pieces of three different types, and then had to wait for almost ten minutes while they struggled to weigh the pieces and price them accordingly.  I’m pretty sure they did it wrong, but I made it back in time to gulp down my tea, and we enjoyed the baklava on the bus.  At one of the stops, a man from the Air Force got on with his wife and two kids.  Having heard English, I started talking to him, and found out that he worked at the NATO base in Izmir.  It was interesting to get to hear another American’s perspective on the city, especially one with less of a reckless twenty-something’s Georgia-colored idea of the world.

We decided to head back to Izmir’s main bus station, thinking it would be easier to find and easier to get back to the city from there.  It took forever to get there and had no metro, but we did find the bus we needed to get back.  However, half the bus kept staring at us and trying to talk to us for half our ride until they eventually told us to get out and the driver had to walk us to another bus of the same number, helpful Turk #5 (although the whole bus helped).  As the bus station only has one stop for local buses, you have to know which direction you need and which direction that number bus is going.  We had no idea, but the Turks knew what we needed better than we did and graciously got us in the right direction.  When we finally got downtown, we walked around a bit, ate, and headed back across the water to our host.

We actually did a good job finding our apartment, but we had no way to get it.  We spent over an hour trying to find the café from the previous night, thinking our friends might be there.  While we did a good job retracing our steps, especially considering that our host had gotten us a bit lost on the way to her friends’ café since her sense of direction is about as good as mine, we did not find the café.  Instead, we parked ourselves at a café between the main street and our apartment.  While we drank more tea, I finally realized my Lonely Planet had the phrase “Can I borrow your phone?”, so one of the boys asked our waiter, our waiter immediately obliged (helpful Turk #6), and we contacted our host.  I always thought such phrases in phrasebooks were unnecessary.  I stand corrected.  Our host came over a little while later, paid for our tea, and took us into the apartment.  He then said he was staying elsewhere, so we had several hours with the apartment to ourselves to shower, drink, and let Wikipedia decided several of the debates we had had about various subjects since our trip began.

Having stayed up late, we still got up fairly early to hit Sardis.  We searched out another traditional Turkish breakfast and then made our way back to the bus station, where we easily found a bus ready to leave for Sardis.  In addition to the smooth ride and free water, this bus also served us tea, which made me happy. 

A note about Sardis, or Sart, as the current village is called.  Sardis was the capital of the Lydian kingdom several centuries BC.  They, like the Georgians, used fleece to sift gold, and might have invented coinage.  The phrase ‘rich as Croesus’ comes from King Croesus of Lydia.  Sardis was also an important city under Alexander the Great and especially the Romans.  It is another church mentioned in Revelation.  There were some ruins we wanted to see and separate ruins of a Temple of Artemis.  It took us a while to find the right road and we passed the ruins at first, since the only part we could see looked far too new.  We headed down the road toward the Temple with a bit of assistance from helpful Turk #7, since we saw a sign for that, saw a few ruins, and started getting frustrated that we had not seen any ruins.  There were some crumbled walls from some sort of fortification perched precariously on one of the two high hills, so when there was a small sign and a footpath, we could not resist.  One of the boys loves to climb on anything, and we all agreed it was a good idea to head up.  We followed the sheep paths up the hill until eventually one of my friends started laughing.  When we got up to where he was, we saw that we had stopped probably three minutes before we would have hit a very impressive ruined temple and that we had actually past the other ruins.  Thus oriented, we continued up the hill until we reached the ruined fortification.  The height offered a spectacular view, and two of us decided to climb up onto the fortification, which was awesome, except I ripped a hole in my jeans in the process.  A small price to pay for the satisfaction of climbing and the rewarding panoramic view.

We needed to hurry so took the fastest way down, strolled into the ruined temple, and climbed around.  We knew we had to pay for entry into the temple, but the area was not entirely cordoned off, and we had entered through the exit.  Only 2 other men were there, and the guard seemed confused when I paid him as we left through the entrance.  We were pleased to find out that our entrance was also good for the other set of ruins.  Part of these ruins had been reconstructed, hence the fact we thought it was too new.  The reconstruction looked stupid in parts but also made it much easier to imagine the city in its glory days.  There were some Byzantine ruins, including a latrine and row of shops, but my favorite part was the classical synagogue.  The floor still retained several mosaic patterns, which made my classical heart smile.  The ruins were in decent shape, so I could actually understand the structure of the synagogue.  I realized I had never been in a synagogue before as I imagined that some of the very first Christians could have worshiped in that very place almost two thousand years ago.  As I continued to wander through the ruins, toward the part that had been rebuilt, I ran into an English-speaking tour group.  I mostly ignored them, found my friends, and we headed back to catch the bus.  We assumed we needed to be on the opposite side of the street from where we were dropped off, but were greatly helped by this old woman on that side of the street.  She assured us we needed to come and sit on a bench with her if we needed a bus to Izmir.  She then motioned about being cold, so we all put our jackets back on.  She made me laugh since she had about six layers on and must have thought me crazy for my t-shirt and light coat.  With more hand gestures than words, she also asked if I was married to either of my two friends and instructed us all to put on jackets. When the next bus came, she flagged it down for us, serving as helpful Turk #8.

More to come.

Turkey Round 2: Part 1: Trabzon and more marshrutkas than I should take in a day

Turkey round two feels quite a bit different than it did when I visited Istanbul with a friend after my Fulbright.  I’m three years older, traveling without the luxury of a generous Fulbright allowance (at least in comparison to my current situation), traveling with two boys (at the moment) instead of one girl, making my way through less touristy parts of the country, and have had eight months of Georgia to dictate how I think the world works.

Our trip did not start off so well.  We found a marshrutka in Tbilisi that the men said would take us to Sarpi, but we were pretty sure would only take us to Batumi, but we climbed in regardless.  It did only take us to Batumi, but the problem was more in that our shiny, clean Mercedes had a radiator problem or some other reason we had to stop frequently.  We stopped once before we even left Tbilisi, spent about 45 minutes idling by the side of the road in Gori, which is only about an hour away, and stopped every 20-30 minutes from there on out.  The stops got shorter, long enough to pour water somewhere under the hood, but it made me nervous as to whether we would even make it to Trabzon.  Thankfully, when we got to Batumi, we were able to hop into a marshrutka that immediately left for Sarpi.  Back in September, friends and I had spent a glorious day at the beach in Sarpi in the shadow of the strange structure that is the border.  This time, with backpacks on, we stood in the stuffy tunnel, trying not to get pushed out of the way by Turks and Georgians, waiting to go through passport control.  When we finally got to passport control, I had another lovely experience, since Georgian border guards are the friendliest I’ve ever met.

We had made it to no man’s land, which was like a series of tollbooths for trucks, buses, and cars, with pedestrians running around in between.  We were some of these pedestrians, bypassing the passport line to get into Turkey so we could go get our visas, thanks to some advice I had gotten from another TLGer.  Then we got back in line.  After getting our passports stamped, we walked back through all the activity toward the end.  A man did ask to see our passports to make sure we had gotten a visa, but the border had a lot more chaos than security.  We needed to get a taxi and so kept walking through what felt like a massive parking lot for taxi drivers to accost us like they do in Georgia.  That never happened, since apparently taxi drivers in Turkey are very subdued.  A marshrutka took us a few minutes up the road where we were told to get out and wait for a marshrukta (dolmus in Turkish) to take us to Hopa.  Once there, we got into another marshrutka to take us to Trabzon.  By Rize, we were the only ones left, so the man dropped us off there and told us a bus would be there in about 15 minutes.  The bus was glorious-quiet, high, comfortable seating, and they even gave other people free water.  It took us a while to know we were hearing Georgian, and we discovered we were on a bus full of Georgians.  A little before 11, about midnight Georgia time, we were dropped off in the “center”.  Someone had scrawled a recommendation for a hotel in the Lonely Planet I had borrowed, so we set off looking for it but realized we had no idea where we were in relation to the map in the book.  Thankfully, wonderful Turk #1 approached us and helped us find a dolmus to where we actually wanted to go.  Once in the center, it was easy to find the hotel.  I got a tiny single room and the boys had a bigger room next door.  Feeling a bit like zombies, we set out to find some dinner and then came back to crash.  The next morning allowed us to explore the city for a while and search for pastries.  I thought I saw a sign for tea and coffee so used my limited Turkish (by then I had relearned numbers 1-10 that I had learned in Istanbul) to try to order 1 tea, 2 coffees, and 3 pastries.  Instead, the man brought out three teas, one pastry, and two giant Turkish breakfasts.  Since I love empty carbs, I got the pastry, which turned out to be similar to achma, a kind of khachapuri, while the boys feasted on eggs, olives, tomatoes, cheese, and a honey butter combination that I stole some of because I love honey.  And, like Georgia, there was bread.  We were happy with this turn of events, even if we were a bit bewildered.  We headed back to get our stuff and take us to the airport.  It took us a bit of asking to find the dolmus to the airport, but our driver told us when to get off.  The Trabzon airport is right by the water, so it was a striking view.  It’s also pretty small, so it was easy to check-in and get on our flight.  Trabzon round 1 had been a relative success and a good start to our trip.

Spring has come at last!

Signs I know it's Spring:

• Today he was playing beekeeper.  Hoping for fresh honey soon.

• I also saw that the vegetable/fruit stand had fresh fruits and veggies for the first time in months.

• The cow has started producing milk again.  Fresh, warm milk (with a bit of sugar added) is delicious!  And full of calcium!

• There are tiny little flowers popping up around the area.

First flowers I saw in my area (from last week)

• Piglets are adorable. I saw several on my walk today.

• I’ve also seen several baby lambs.  They are also adorable.
• Sheep are everywhere.

• There are a lot more men sitting or standing around when I go on walks.
• I’ve gone to my fall coat and frequently don’t need it.  I actually have started to sweat in a sweater and jeans when the sun is out.
• Almost all the snow has melted.
• I can spend time in my room without freezing.
• I slept without my heater last night!  I’ve been using it only to get ready for bed and get ready for school lately, but last night I didn’t use it at all.
• The petchka (wood stove) is on its way out.
• Birds are chirping constantly.
• People are burning trash and dead grass, so sometimes the air is filled with a smoky haze.
• I can walk around the house without socks on without my feet getting cold or getting yelled at.
• The water does not freeze every night and now regularly works everywhere it should.
• All I want to do is be outside, which makes school a chore.
• My self-appointed spring break starts Saturday!

Other news:

I finally went to my first museum in Tbilisi last weekend.  The open-air ethnographic museum has houses and buildings from around Georgia that have been dismantled, brought to Tbilisi, and reconstructed.  My friends and I were shocked to find that at many of these houses there were not only people there to tell us about the houses and direct us where to go next, but they also spoke at least a bit of English.  While the museum was interesting enough, that was the biggest find.

This is the season of my female relatives’ birthdays.  My oldest host sister’s birthday was on Friday.  It was basically a teenage party.  Thankfully, they did not pay enough attention to me to make me drink too many toasts, but that had the unfortunate consequence of me being totally sober around drunken teenagers.  My host mom and grandma went to Tbilisi on Sunday for my host aunt’s birthday.  They got back Tuesday morning, the day of my host mom’s birthday.  However, we did not have a supra, probably because that would only mean more work for her.  We did have some sweets.  Tomorrow is my younger host sister’s birthday.  I think it will be another low-key teenage party.  I’ll find out, regardless.  From my limited experience, boys’ birthdays are a much bigger cause for celebration and encourage a bigger supra.  I’m all for a quiet celebration so I can finish last-minute packing for Turkey.

After several failed attempts to find the caves in the fall, I’ve finally found them!   

About a month into my stay here, I found out I lived in a national park and that there were caves nearby.  I had had trouble finding them, and still did not find them on my own.  I’ve been teaching (or trying to teach) a basic English class for teachers.  Only a few show up.  Several weeks ago, one of the teachers brought a guy to class and said he wanted to learn English and knew Russian.  I then learned he's the doctor's son.  He’s been more faithful than the teachers at showing up and is now basically the only student that comes.  He also knows a bit of English and actually wants to learn, which is refreshing when daily faced with kids who actively ignore my lessons.  He also said that one lesson a week was not enough.  Being lazy and not really wanting to actually have to plan lessons for free, I have not offered to teach more.  However, when he offered to take me to the caves, I took him up on it.  We worked on his English on the way, although my Russian probably got a better work out.  I also got a nice history lesson (although in the invariably ‘I think this is what he meant’ style of history and cultural lessons I get here with the language barriers, even if slight).  Apparently the caves are not just pretty, but were actually used by people for shelter and protection during wars against Muslims.  

close-up of the caves showing the man-made part as well

hole in the man-made part of the rocks...for shooting infidels

 Since the guy who took me is 28 and also took me hiking in the hills above Manglisi yesterday, I’m waiting for/hoping that no one will decide that this is more than a hike + English lesson.  I’ve done my best to remain a “kai gogo” (good girl) and not give the people of my village any reason to talk about me (aside from walking around alone), so I’m hoping this does not ruin that.

On Tuesday, apparently a TV crew and people from Tbilisi came to Manglisi to film something related the church (and I assume Lent) and the alphabet.  I don’t really know what was going on and never saw said people, but I heard some people talk about it and heard my director asking teachers for a lari for food for the supra.  Of course, no one really explained anything to me, asked me for a lari, or invited me, so I went home like normal.  As a result, and since yesterday was one of the teacher’s birthdays, the supra leftovers were spread out in the physics room for the teachers, so I ate and drank on my break.  It was one more reminder of how different life is here as I was encouraged to drink before dealing with small children, since that would surely get me fired in America.  It did make the 3^rd grade class easier, but it’s hard to be mad when half your class decides to shake your hand, give you a hug, kiss your cheek, or a combination.  Even some of the boys wanted to shake my hand yesterday.  It was adorable, but since my co-teacher gets about a tenth of the love I get, I feel a bit guilty.  Just a bit.

My acceptance letter from REEI at Indiana University came in the mail today.  To Georgia.  It’s the first letter I’ve gotten.

Last Saturday, I went to a get-together thrown by a British couple in Kaspi.  I had seen broccoli in the market I frequent in Tbilisi a few weeks before, for the first time ever in Georgia.  I also remembered that my PC friend had gifted me one of hiss Hidden Valley Ranch packets, so I decided to be the hit of the party with fresh broccoli and ranch dip, as I had previously had multiple conversations with various TLGers about how we missed broccoli.  Yeah, I’m serious.  Winter was rough.  While I might not have been the hit of the party, since there were brownies, I will never again go to a party where people are so excited about broccoli.  The Americans also rejoiced at the ranch dip and the Brits were just a bit confused by our love for a condiment we could not describe.  I tried to make an analogy to Protestantism, since I’ve struggled to explain Protestantism to several Georgians who have no background knowledge.  I’d never before had to explain it to someone with no reference point, like ranch dip.  Americans just know what it is.  Of course, the analogy fell flat, when I told one of the Brits to “just try it”, since I doubt Orthodox Georgians would really be game for just “trying” Protestantism.

Today was some holy day, so most (or all) classes got out after 3^rd period and headed to the church.  I only have 3 classes anyway, so it did not affect me, but it was another one of those “this would never happen in America” moments.

I adore my host grandma for lots of reasons.  This conversation is one of them.

Gulo: When do you leave for Turkey?

Me: Saturday.

Gulo: Bring back something good.

She doesn’t mess around.

In Search of the Golden Fleece

I’m off to Turkey on Saturday, so I’ll try and update you all on the latest adventures I’ve had, or I’ll never get them down on (electronic) paper.

After Kakheti, 2 friends and I headed to Kutaisi.  Kutaisi is the 2^nd largest city in Georgia, but it is much smaller than Tbilisi and not nearly as much fun as Batumi, the Black Sea resort town. It has a long and colorful history, but most TLGers seem to think Kutaisi is only good for the free wi-fi and American food at the McDonalds there.  Still, I felt it was worth a visit. I have a friend who lives there and had promised him a while ago I’d come visit.  There are some nearby caves worth visiting, but sadly they are closed until May.  Kutaisi still seemed like a decent base of operations for seeing nearby places of note, so we made the trek anyway.  A friend had recommended a home stay that included food and drink, so we showed up about 10pm after taking the train in.  We were served a delicious mix of Georgian food with a healthy supply of non-potato veggies, much to our delight.  This was followed by the male host of the house, Suliko, pulling out his bag of drinking tricks.  He started off easy and had us drink from drinking horns, Vakhtanguri style.  Then he brought out a crystal or glass bell, which he had you drink out of and then ring proudly.  He also had a jug that he would show you how to pick up from the floor (this is a move in Georgian dancing).  Thankfully, as I girl, I did not have to embarrass myself in failing to do this. Suliko even managed to drink from an upside-down cup.  He was quite entertaining and even got us dancing to Georgian music.  I stayed up far too late talking to some other TLGers. 

We woke up the following morning and headed out to Vani.  Vani is a sleepy village now but was once a bustling city in the Colchis kingdom.  After locals noticed that rains brought golden objects raining down from the hills, they decided to investigate.  Archeologists unearthed gold, coins, pottery, and other artifacts from as far back as the 8^th century BC, although the majority of the finds are from the 3^rd-4^th c. BC.  It was very strange but very cool to see Athenian pottery in Georgia and to realize how far the Greek and Roman world extended.  There is a museum that showcases some of the finds and you can walk among the ruins.  I was mostly impressed to see giant amphora that were found still half-full with millet or wheat when it was unearthed by the Soviets.  It made me realize people really lived there.

These weren’t just people, these were the people of legend.  Jason and the Argonauts, the band of warriors he took with him on the Argo in search of the Golden Fleece, headed here, to the Colchis Kingdom.  A bit north of here, in the mountains, people used to lay fleece in the water to catch specks of gold that floated by, which is the realistic reasoning of how the myth of the Golden Fleece started.  No one can say for sure there ever was a Jason or Medea (and since their story ends poorly, it might be better if they remain mere myth), but if they existed, they existed here.  This was enough to satisfy my classical studies heart.

Thus satisfied, we headed back to Kutaisi and took a taxi ride to Gelati, Motsameta, and Bagrati, monuments of Orthodoxy in the vicinity.  David the Builder was one of Georgia’s best kings back in the Middle Ages.  In addition to fighting the Muslims (the Persians), he also built Gelati as a monastery and academy (center of learning and philosophy).  So people would remember him, he asked to be buried at the entrance, so visitors would have to step over his grave and think of him whenever they wanted to enter or exit.  The current entrance is located elsewhere, but his grave remains, although our taxi driver said his body probably is not there anymore.  The church there still has lots of paintings and an awesome mosaic.  The mosaic was damaged by an earthquake and the Soviets tried to paint the damaged part to look like a mosaic.  Atheist Soviets “restoring” a mosaic did not go over well with the devout, but the attempt was much nicer than the white-washing Stalin did to most Georgian churches.

We also went to Motsameta, which was awesome mostly because it is perched on a hill right by a bend in a river.  It’s a peaceful monastery with great views.  Bagrati is a big cathedral very close to Kutaisi that is currently being restored to its former glory.  While that is great, and the cathedral needs a lot of repair, it is now just a construction zone.  Still, we snapped a few pictures of the outside and admired the view of Kutaisi.  Then the 4 men drinking nearby made friends with us, offering us chacha and khinkali like good Georgians.  We chatted with them for a while and found out that they were cousins.  One of them is an officer in the Army and had been to the Helmand Province of Afghanistan and worked with American troops.  He had just gotten back from a month-long joint exercise, so the men were celebrating his return.  They tried to get us to stay longer, but our taxi was waiting, so we returned to our home stay for more food, wine, and conversation.

I put pictures on Facebook if you’re interested.  The link is under the pictures section (obviously).  I should also note that while we did not find the Golden Fleece, we did find Medea.  Our host and tireless cook (Suliko's wife) is named Medea (Mediko), which pleased me greatly.  Thankfully she seems to have enjoyed a fairly normal family life, complete with a daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.  Her husband, who is quite the character, probably drives her crazy, but told her frequently "I love you".  Her response to us tourists was "Every day 'I love you', problema", which I thought was a priceless quote.  They've been married for well over 40 years.