Early last week I pledged to Martha that we were going to start writing better posts; posts which would more elegantly tread the area between “telling-it-how-it-is” and remaining “culturally-sensitive:”
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“Martha, we can’t keep writing this schlock!” I exclaimed, pushing back in disgust from my internet cafĂ© terminal.
“Why not?” Martha muttered, not even moving her eyes from the Coloradoan’s Marriages/Obituary pages. “My mom loves reading my posts.”
“We’re not getting any respect!” I sighed, stealing a glance of the video game carnage happening on the screen next to mine. “By signing on to the Peace Corps, we were guaranteed to immediately earn the admiration of our friends and family, because we were going to ‘rough it’ for 27 months! Instead, my friends are telling me how nice Georgia seems, and how – if they had known – they would have signed up too!”
“Pietro would have a Grand Mal seizure if he saw our pit latrine.” Martha sighed, now scanning Kathy Sabine’s forecast for the Denver Area. “Who cares? The important thing is that we are telling everyone what life is like here, as well as respecting our directive to maintain a blog which is considerate of the host-country nationals, and Georgia as a whole.”
“I just think our blog has been too Travel and Leisure for my tastes, Louise. It’s time we started working harder on really giving people a flavor for life in Georgia.” I said, cracking my knuckles for emphasis.
“Fine. But don’t get us kicked out. I want to be here for the grape harvest in the fall.”
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In the spirit of a new start for this blog; I will attempt to inject a little Peace Corps TEFL program reality into every post, to A) give everyone back home an idea of what life is truly like here, as well as B) prevent our P.C. program from being overrun by tourists and Australian backpackers before the end of our stint. (Actually, Georgia very much is trying to build a tourism sector, so the latter wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.)
That said; it’s been a rather busy week here in the Shita-Kartli region of Georgia. Martha and I are now 72 hours away from our final language proficiency interview, our official swear-in, and departure to our permanent site. While one might think this would nail us to our desks, working neck deep in Georgian script and verb conjugations, we have actually found the time to climb a mountain, witness 2 deaths, discover a troglodytic city, fly a kite, play fetch with children, AND sing a Karaoke duet (When I’m 64…) in front of all our fellow G7’s and P.C.G. staff.
Let me parse some of my words. One of the deaths was bovine (though a sacrifice!) and the other was a guy who was already dead (though an open casket!) And the rest is all true!
Don’t Have a Cow, Man.
I’ve never seen that creepy IMAX movie about the Everest expedition, but I’d wager a packet of rehydration salts from my PC med kid that none of those climbers were met at the top of their peak by a whole truck-full of Georgians who immediately pounced on their parched and exhausted bodies to offer 3 glasses of red wine and cheese bread. Further, I’d guess that there is no small church on the top of Everest in which cows are blessed, and subsequently wrestled to the ground by the overwhelming swarthy power of 6 men before being dispatched with the help of a rusty knife.
Well, if there were, it would have looked pretty awesome on IMAX, and I probably would have picked up a ticket or two (for the wife.) In my version of the story; these men, in addition to being very manly (in Georgian: MamaKatsi), were expert butchers. In less than 20 minutes, this creature of God, content to simply graze and swat flies, was transformed into Safeway-quality beef sections, supra-ready. The only cow-part not utilized by this troupe was a bile sac I saw gracefully flying down the hillside away from the disassembly scrum.
Salute Your Shorts: TEFL Summer Camps
Our technical sessions were replaced this week by a farewell summer camp for the youth of our village. For those of you who may someday find it necessary or simply interesting reading, here are some interesting facts about hosting successful summer camps in Georgia:
1. Candy helps any situation. The addition of candy – in our case a huge tub of Chupa Chups - increased attendance 400%. A dzalian didi madloba to our Country Director Kathleen (who may or may not be reading this blog) for the gift.
2.When dealing with a sudden, unexpected, and candy-crazed surge of 8 year-old boys in a camp built for studious and English-speaking teenage girls, feel free to break out the Frisbees, and, as Josh demonstrated, play fetch. The boys will not tire of this game, and it will get their sugar energy out in a productive fashion (I.E. not as many tearful face-punches, or dusty scuffles.) Violent machismo never looked so adorable.
3.Another successful and greatly appreciated “Joshtivity” was the creation of 2 kites. By just heading down to your neighborhood bazaar, and finding a roll of paper, some thin wood dowel-like pieces, some string, some athletic tape and a bucket-full of hope, sweat, and old-fashioned determination, you’ve got yourself a flying machine! (Sort of).
4.Teaching kick-ball through hand-gestures and pointing works! You might not be able to explain the infield fly rule, or any rule dealing with getting some one out; other than to bean them in the head with a soccer ball, but after about 2 hours of sweating (and burning) in the sun, you might just have yourself a little piece of Americana playing out in the Caucuses.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
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