Stealing Martha's Thunder...

Hey gang! Martha's going to post a blog this evening, after work, chock full of information, photo captions and a logical timeline of events, but if you're not into that sort of thing, then here's a nonsensical jumble of pretty colors and shapes to keep you going.

We found it: the fabled "golden fleece." I'm not sure if its THE fleece, but its close.

Post-carnage grape-stomping boots.
Not sure what the whitish stuff is, but it's grape-related, and may be edible.
Statue of a little drinking man (pirosmani style) in a square in Tbilisi.
The Statue of St. George in Tbilisi.
Tbilisi's "Sioni", the main church, and conveniently located next to the trendy down-town bars.

Grapes in a concrete tub. Most homes in Georgia are outfitted with one of these.
And then there was one.
A food magazine quality picture of snack-time after the stomping. A hellova bathtub spigot.

Ode to John

Included in this blog entry is a photo of my brother John. I did not receive his permission to put the photo on the internet, but as his older sister I will take some liberties in the legality. He did, after all, let me take the picture, and he will be glad that I did not use some of the other pictures from this same weekend in Durango when he spent most of the weekend dressed as a pirate. Not a good-looking pirate, but a maroon velour jumpsuit clad pirate, not a pretty sight (though inexplicably it did work with the ladies). But I digress. This is in fact an “Ode to John” for being the best brother in the whole world. How did John get this title with so much competition? There are brothers all over the world who do great things, they help you move at least once a year, they pick up giant boxes filled only with books, they retrieve things from the top self, they make you laugh when they do extra stupid things like riding on recliners tied behind trucks etc. But what did John do that was so great, you may be asking yourself? Many of you know that I have an affinity for gummy candies and John took time out of his busy schedule looking at spiders, rocks, trees and various other forms of nature to send me what I can only imagine to be an entire candy aisle worth of gummy candies. While this means I will have to try extra hard not to get a cavity, it also means I am a happy camper for at least the next month or so on the candy front. For that I would like to thank him. I have included a photo showing my joy and only a small portion of the glee creating bounty.

In other news the weather has changed overnight. Just last weekend we “West Georgians” were bragging to the “East Georgians” (more on west vs. east later) that fall had not yet visited our sunny shores. We were still sleeping summer-style with the window open and just a sheet to cover us, however that all changed on Monday. We had hints that fall would come eventually. Hints like the sun setting at 6 o’clock instead of 8:30 or 9 like it did in the summer. But Monday was the day that fall came with no guessing at its arrival and unfortunately it has not left again, and I am beginning to think that it is here to stay. Monday the day-time temperatures fell about 25 degrees and at night it is downright cold. I can’t actually tell you how cold because I have not seen a thermometer since we arrived and it would be in Celsius anyway which doesn’t help me all that much, but it is noticeably cold.

West vs. East: Georgia is a really small county about a quarter the size of Colorado, so about the size of West Virginia, but it has two very distinct halves; the west half and the east half. It is very easy to tell when you are leaving one half and going in to the other because there is one main highway and when you are on this highway you go through a very long tunnel (think Eisenhower tunnel, but with more, um... charm.) when you pass from one half to another. Everyone said everything is different on the other side and they were right. The west side where I live is warmer and wetter and has more bugs and a coastline, while the east side is cooler, dryer and grows more fruit and still has bugs, but not as many. It is strange to think how different it is on the other side of a tunnel, but it is like another country all together, but fortunately (or unfortunately as the case may be for me) they all speak Georgian in one form or another, except for the people in the south, who speak Armenian and the people it the far-east who speak Azeri and the people in Samagrelo who speak Mingrelian, or the people in the North who speak Russian and so forth.

This is a picture of a cow for you city folks. I liked cows before I came to Georgia and I still like cows, but I didn't think that I would see quite so many cows. Cows are everywhere and they roam pretty much where ever including the streets of main cities and along the main highway, the school yards and in pretty much every open bit of land in the town.. This particular one was minding his own business near our formerly illustrious Young Pioneers Camp in Terjola.

Now for my last topic today. As promised I am going to continue to tell you little funny things that I come across in the Georgian language. I have not done it in a while because I have been a very bad student and have not been studying the Georgian language very well. But this is something that I came across during training and continue to come across it everyday as someone tells me some thing about their family. In Georgia and in Georgian it is very important to be able to identify not only that someone is related to you, but how they are related to you. I have included a little lesson for you. The first part is easy, but then we start getting into the intricacies of who is related to whom and how…

Mother- deda

Father- mama (confusing, yes?)

Brother- dzma

Sister- da (also means “and”)

Grandfather- babua

Grandmother-bebia

Uncle-bidza

Aunt (from mother’s side)- deida

Aunt (from father’s side)- mamida

Aunt (uncle’s wife)- bizola

Cousin (uncle’s child) – bidzashvili (literally Uncle child)

Cousin (dad’s sister’s child)- mamidashvili

Cousin (mom’s sister’s child)- deidashvili

Mother-in-law (husband’s mother)- dedamtili

Mother-in-law (wife’s mother)- sidedri

Grandchildren- shvilishvili (literally child child)

And when talking about your family you can say “my sister” or “my brother” or “my cousin” (chemi da, chemi dzma, etc.), but whomever is the generation that is older than yours you must call “mother mine” and “father mine” and “grandmother mine” (deda chemi, mama chemi, bebia chemi) or else it is blasphemous. It is these sorts of things that can trip one up when learning Georgian, so I have given you a head start on your way to speaking what is one of the oldest and most exclusive languages in the world. Lucky you.

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!

Hey there, its been a while!

How does one sum up a nearly three-week break from blog posts? How can we communicate the joys of three full weeks, without letting a tasty news morsel fall through the cracks? Pictures, tons of word-sparing pictures! Lets get started, shall we?
First off, FLEX tests! The lovely youths (pronounced you'd'z) above are part of the Terjola "dream team" who passed to the second round of the American Councils-sponsored english-language competition for a year-long exchange in the US. Out of 9 kiddies that we took to the 1st round, a full 4 got a winning ticket to enjoy a grueling 3 hour exam in Kutaisi (on their off day no less!) Their tests are currently being reviewed in Washington, and we won't know the results for a month or so. Even if none of our kids makes it to the states, (and past 2 more rounds of cuts...) the experience of taking such a massive exam will help these kids in other ventures (such as the oft-feared national exam!)

Speaking of kids, here's a quick shot of my 6th graders demonstrating their belief in the "common good." Needless to say, I will be trying to implement some sort of honor system in my classrooms, but we'll have to wait and see if the kids buy my schtick.

Last saturday, Martha and I (along with 30 other PCV's) helped with Kutaisi's yearly Breast Cancer Awareness walk (2k walk, and 5k run.) It was a great way to help get the word out on a very serious problem in Georgia and around the world. The event is put on by JSI, USAID, and others, and is growing into a sizeable event. Even the First Lady of Georgia came! The First Lady of the Nation! Yes Yes.
Here's Martha acting like the rock-n-roll diva we all know her to be, signing shirts for her awestruck fans. I'd like to take a moment to make a quick aside to Mr. and Mrs. King, whom I've been told read this site, and whose son, Joshua signed his shirts "shadow ninja." Seriously. The man also wanted to know the proper way to check for lumps, which, let's face it, is good information to know, and can save lives. Here he is testing his newfound knowledge on a pair of test-dummies.

Another picture out of the grab-bag: Our lovely stallion which brings us to the big city, the Terjola marshutka. I think it used to be a plumber's van in the Chateaugiron region of France, but these days, its transporting a precious cargo across Georgia, with retro-fitted seats, and a few tactical welds.
Speaking of non-traditional transport: check out this kids ride in down-town Kutaisi. Does'nt this ogre just scream "jump in the castle that I'm wearing on my back while a man sits in my belly and drives!" Notice the look on Martha's face; she just touched his toe, and it was "squishy."

A quick culinary twosome. Its walnut season in Terjola, and the myth is dead: Walnuts come from green things that stain your hands worse than a henna festival, and fall all around our host-families house, so we've been eating the things like fiends for the last couple weeks.

Also, cookies in Georgia come in several forms. This, a cell phone, being perhaps the least interesting, but I thought taking a picture of a gun-shaped cookie, or a cookie shaped like a famous athletic brand would get my in trouble with the authorities.

A last one for the road: This shot depicts what Martha deems to be an aberation both here in Georgia and in the US: Julien (a man) helping with the laundry. Which actually is rarer than you think, as this shot was posed. I dropped my cardboard-like poloshirt on the ground in disgust the second I heard the shutter on the camera.

Nachwamdis for now.