Its The Final Countdown!

Rest easy America, because Democracy is truly spreading across the far reaches of the globe. Yessir, as was witnessed by this humble PCV, power was shared with the people in Terjola this week, as hundreds of Second Schoolers picked among their own for representation on the local school board. Though our host father points at our host sister’s intriguing daily antics as a perfect example of democracy gone wrong, the election proceedings seemed to go smoothly, and all impartial international observers (me) reported no irregularities. While I’m not exactly sure of the overall purpose of the Second School Board, (more on that after I consult my contacts in the school board industry) both the teachers and the students seemed to respectfully enjoy the voting.

Additionally, I’d like to announce a new ground-breaking feature on this blog. A few months back, there was a large hullabaloo about a new Dutch television program where the viewing audience would be able to vote between several critically ill patients in need of a transplant, and, at the end of the show, said winning patient would win the needed organ(s). Well, this show turned out to be a fraudulent P.R. stunt, but continuing in the same tasteless entertainment vein, I call your attention to the new polling feature on the right hand column of this blog.

Martha and I, as you know, are in the Republic of Georgia. This means that we are living in a country where the employed and unemployed (there’s more of one than the other, but I’ll let you guess which) have gardens where they grow a sizable portion of their food. You’ve all seen the posts about our pigs (both post- and pre- carnitas versions). But did you know that we also eat chicken in Georgia? That being said, most homes in the “regions” are equipped with a couple dozen chickens running around and scratching the hell out of could-be-lawns. You might think that once you’ve seen one chicken, you’ve seen them all, but you’d be terribly mistaken. Martha and I, (as well as our host sister) have fallen heads-over-heels for a particular Gallus gallus in our yard, and have named it “Moe,” in reference to his sizable bouffant hair style. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, this means that we’ve grown accustomed to his face, and we’re doomed to eat him. So starts the morbid timer. How long will Moe avoid the chopping block? (see Ryan Nickum’s blog for excellent insights on Georgian chickens, their breasts, and their processing into food) Will Moe, due to his innate movie star sex-appeal, moxie, chutzpah, luck, or what-have-you, survive the winter? For his sake, and ours, let’s hope so, but in the event he doesn’t, be among those who “called it” by voting. If you win, I’ll send you something, like Moe’s foot, or a cup of Martha’s tears.

In other news, you may have noticed that there’s been a drought of picturesque landscapes lately. This is because we’ve been (like the majority of you) working, and this means staying at site in Terjola. However, this doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy a nice “Ansel Adams” of Terjola now and again.

First off; Terjola. This picture is looking towards the South, and those snow-capped peaks are the backside of the Borjomi National Park. Also; you might notice the smoke off on the left, that's the lovely factory in Zestaponi, which (as far as we can tell) is involved solely in the production of smoke and lovely soviet-style wall murals.
Second: our abandoned local movie theater. Terjola was designated by the previous system as the new regional center, and there are a plethora (jefe, what is a plethora?) of circa-1959 buildings that now lie vacant. This picture is intended to drive all of you to send as many used DVD's as physically possible. Hope all is well out there in the States (and elsewhere), and thanks for reading!