Let's give this another go...

I've decided to give blogging another shot.

With the dominance of Facebook, I found it easier to just post short status updates, links, and photos that were readily available to all my "friends." But Facebook also made me lazy, and instead of writing thoughtful and interesting (or I at least hope they are!) pieces about my travels, my life was reduced to one-line statements about my mood/what was on my mind and the occasional photo album that lacked any background story.

So I'm back to blogging. Let's hope that with all the time I wasted on Facebook, I'll be able to churn out blog posts on a regular basis.

Back in Georgia!

And I'll be here for a good long time. Once I have a few hours to myself, I'll try to begin writing again.

And I'm back... in Tajikistan!

I promise to write a more comprehensive post soon, but this will have to do for now.

I'm currently in Dushanbe, Tajikistan study Persian and Tajik through the CLS Program (Critical Language Scholarship), a State Department funded program. I arrived in Tajikistan on June 14 and will be here through July 29.

I've been quite busy here in Dushanbe (we have 5-6 hours of lessons each day) and even our weekends our scheduled. I do hope to leave the city for the mountains one weekend though.

Again, a brief post, but I promise to write more soon.

Leave comments!

What I've been doing...

One of my responsibilities at IOCC Georgia is to write beneficiary stories. Here is one of them.

Chargali

Yesterday (July 5), I visited Chargali, the birthplace and home of Vazha-Pshavela, in the Pshavi region of Georgia (~60 kilometers north-north east of Tbilisi).

The trip was organized by my former Georgian teacher, Nana. During my previous stay in Georgia, it was through Nana's trips that I visited Gergeti and Bodbe Monastery. I enjoy going on Nana's trips, not only because they're great opportunities to visit extraordinary parts of Georgia, but because Nana always manages to invite such an interesting and fun-loving group of Georgians.

This time, we were a party of nine: Nana, five middle-aged Georgian women (Nino, Tiniko, another Nana (Tiniko's sister), Gunda, and a half-Russian whose name I've forgotten), Temo (my Georgian host-dad and good friend of Nana), Adam (a PhD student from the States, who is doing research on the Georgian wine industry--lucky fellow--and is also a student of Nana), and myself.

Chargali is a tiny little village tucked away in the green foothills of the Caucasus. The first half of the drive was along the relatively well-maintained Georgian Military Highway, but once we reached the Zhinvali reservoir dam, we went off the highway onto a very poorly maintained road which followed the Aragvi River up to Chargali.

Besides Vazha-Pshavela's two-room house, which is now a museum, and the beautiful surroundings, Chargali is an unremarkable village. Nonetheless, Georgians revere this poet and writer, and still flock to his birthplace. As Temo explained to me, Vazha-Pshavela's (whose real name was Luka Razikashvili) poems while beautiful in their own right, all contain a strong political message: Don't mess with Georgia. Since last August's war, Vazha-Pshavela, not surprisingly, has become rather popular again.

After touring Vazha's bedroom, complete with a butter-churner and 19th century German sewing machine, we piled back into our marshrutka in anticipation of the main event of the day: our supra. We each had brought food for our picnic feast. I provided cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, and apricots; Adam, of course, wine. We found a nice shady spot by the river and began to feast. Nana told me earlier that Tiniko was a great singer, and sure enough, after a few glasses of Saperavi, she was belting out Georgian folk songs. A few glasses later, I found myself trying to learn a traditional Georgian dance from the other Nana, and failing miserably.

Just about when we had finished the last of our wine, it began to rain, and so we quickly packed our things and headed back to Tbilisi. We all had such a good time, that we're thinking of where we should go next weekend. Right now, it's looking like Lagodekhi (a state-protected area in eastern Georgia).

Meanwhile, I have Temo's birthday party today to attend... My goodness, I think Georgian hospitality is going to kill me this time around!

In Tbilisi

I'm back in Tbilisi, and it's as if I never left.

My 22-hour journey from DC to Tbilisi, with a 10+ hour layover in Munich, went by without a hitch. During my layover in Munich, I left the airport and went into the city center. I walked around the city and saw a few sites, but just after buying a crepe slathered with nutella (I know, I know, what am I doing eating a crepe in Germany?) the skies opened up and it began to pour rain. I took refuge in a doorway and tried to wait it out, but the rain kept coming and my things were starting to get wet. So I bought an umbrella. For those of you who know me well, I've never owned an umbrella. This one was both crappy and expensive, but it did the job.

Relatively dry, I returned to the airport where I divided the remaining four hours before my flight to Tbilisi between taking naps in the terminal and exploring the half-dozen or so identical duty-free shops. As my departure neared, I realized that I had been sitting at the wrong gate. There had been a change. I knew I had found the right gate when I saw Georgians surrounded by mounds of carry-on luggage. Lufthansa now limits economy class passengers to just one carry-on (plus a "personal item"), but that didn't stop some of the passengers on my flight from bringing four or more large items. One passenger had a half-dozen and was asking those who had only one or two items to take them on board for him.

I arrived in Tbilisi at 3 am, breezed through passport control (I was afraid they would see my Afghan visa and not let me through...), collected my bags, and was met by Levan from the NGO for whom I am working. During the brief 20 minute drive from the airport to my apartment, I could see that Tbilisi had changed quite a bit since I was last here in March of 2008. New buildings line the highway (the "George W. Bush Street"), including a new glass structure that is now home to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Saakashvili has a new residence on a hillside (next to the Mother of Georgia statue) overlooking Old Tbilisi that is also made out of glass. Rumors are that due to harassment by opposition protesters, Saakashvili is spending more of his time at his vacation residence in the West Georgian province of Adjara. Instead of driving the more direct route of going along Rustaveli Avenue to my apartment in Vera, Levan made a detour along the Mtkvari River. Rustaveli Avenue by the Parliament building and Freedom Square has been closed due to ongoing opposition protests. There, the street is occupied with mock cells that were erected when the protests began on April 9.

My apartment in Vera is quite nice, almost too nice. It is a one bedroom apartment with a huge living room, kitchen, and balcony. You can see photos on my flickr page. It's beautifully furnished. My apartment is also conveniently located withing walking distance from the NGO's office. This means that I won't have to take any marshrutkas!! (Read about my marshrutka experiences in Bishkek here.)

Even though I got to my apartment by 4am, I couldn't go to sleep until about 7am, and even then, I only slept for four hours. When I got up, I realized that I had no way of getting in touch with anybody: my cell phone which I used when I was in Tbilisi last year had broken, and I had lost the SIM card along with all the phone numbers stored in it. The first order of business, then, was to get a phone. But I knew I needed some help from a Georgian friend to make sure that I wouldn't be ripped off, so I headed out to Sameba Cathedral where I knew I could count on finding some of my friends. Sure enough, Kuku and Natia were there. They were very happy to see me, and I them.

Once liturgy was over (the Patriarch serves here, so liturgy usually lasts a minimum of 3 1/2 hours), we left for the bazaar where I managed to buy a sweet phone for a good price (by the way, feel free to call me! +995 57 343873). Next, Kuku and Natia took me to another old friend's place nearby, where we celebrated my return Georgian style (chacha...). I and my friends were surprised and happy to see that I had forgotten very little of my Georgian. I was expecting that it would take a couple of weeks at least before I could speak fluently again, but I've been chatting away in Georgian the moment I set foot on Georgian soil (in fact, I didn't speak a word of English on Sunday until my family called me that night).

On Monday, I had my first day at work. I've been asked not to write about my work at this NGO, so unfortunately, I can't go into too much detail. I'll just say that everyone at the office is extremely friendly, and that I'm being challenged in a good way. A large part of my responsibility will be to write beneficiary stories. And since the beneficiaries live in impoverished regions outside of Tbilisi, that's where I'll be spending a day or two every week doing interviews and monitoring the NGO in action.

Today, I will be going to the Shida Kartli region, and will be visiting villages just mere kilometers from the South Ossetian border...

Here I go again...

It has been nearly a year since I last posted. It also happens to be nearly a year since I had an adventure.

But that's about to change.

In just a couple of weeks, I will be arriving in... yup, you guessed it, Tbilisi, Georgia. This time, I will be traveling to Georgia as a summer intern for a humanitarian and developmental aid NGO. I am still somewhat short on details for exactly what I will be doing, but from what I know, some of my responsibilities will include evaluating their programs (which include: A school lunch program, food distribution program for refugees from last year's war, HIV/AIDS awareness, and an agricultural development program, among others) and writing articles for their newsletter.

When I left Georgia at the end of March last year, I didn't think I would be coming back for at least another two years. But even though only 14 1/2 months have passed since I last set foot on Georgia, Georgia has changed a lot. Yes, there was a war last August. But the crisis in Georgia has anything but abated. There have been nonstop street protests in Tbilisi since April 9. The protesters are demanding that President Saakashvili resign. Recently, the protesters have taken to disrupting daily life in any way. A week or so ago, they shut down Tbilisi's train station, and later threatened to shut down the airport... Let's just hope my plane gets to land when I arrive on June 21st!

It looks like I'm going to have an interesting summer!

Home; New Blog

For those who still visit this blog hoping to find out if I survived my trip to Tajikistan, well I have. It was an amazing trip; almost too amazing to put into words (for example, this picture is of an Afghan Caravan in the Wakhan Valley. We were in Tajikistan, they were in Afghanistan--we were all at the edge of the world)--though fear not! When I have time/don't feel lazy, I'll try to write all the details of the trip. Meanwhile, take a look at my pictures.

I'd also like to mention that I've created a new blog. Unlike this blog, tarjimani.blogspot.com was created for me, not necessarily for readers. As you might have gathered from reading this blog, I've learned a couple of languages during my year abroad (Georgian and Russian), and I don't want to forget them. That's why I've made it a summer project of mine to translate Russian and Georgian materials (news articles and literature, mostly) and post them online. Read my first blog entry for a more detailed description of the blog's aims.

Tajikistan

Many apologies… long time no post. I didn’t expect to find myself adjusting so quickly to life in Kyrgyzstan, but I have, and I don’t feel touristy enough to write about things in Bishkek. But bug me about it enough and I will.

A brief description of what I’m doing currently:

I’m going on my 4^th week of living in an apartment with another student (Chris) from the London School. I left my homestay after 5 weeks because I wasn’t getting much conversation practice out of it, wasn’t being fed very well, and didn’t ever really feel at home. The apartment is only a 10 minute walk from school (compared to 45 minutes before) and has a breath-taking view of the mountains (we’re on the 8^th floor). Pictures soon.

I’m still studying at the London School, where I continue to be impressed by the quality of teaching. The three teachers I’ve had (Sveta, Kaira, and Olga) have really pushed me and, though I wouldn’t quite consider myself fluent yet, I can now speak Russian with much greater ease. My two hours of reading/listening Russian literature (Nabokov, Bunin, Aldanov…) with Kaira each day has helped me the most. I chose to only do 16 hours a week (4 hours/day, Monday – Thursday) for my most recent contract which began 3 weeks ago so that I could use the three day weekend to make more substantial trips out of the city…

…Such as going to Tajikistan. This is not a three day trip—it’s a 12 day one on the Pamir Highway, the second highest highway in the world (most of it is well over 4000 meters or 13,200 ft with the highest pass at 4,655 meters or 15,360 ft—that’s higher than any mountain in the lower 48). Chris, Rory (another London School student), and I decided only last Sunday to go to Tajikistan. The conversation pretty much went like this: “Hey, let’s go to Tajikistan next week!” “Sounds cool! Let’s do it!” Since that conversation, we’ve applied and received our Tajik Visas and GBAO Permits (necessary to travel the Pamir Highway), bought one-way tickets from Dushanbe to Bishkek, reserved land transportation, and contacted a community based tourism (CBT) agency in Tajikistan to arrange our home (yurt) stays.

Here’s the plan:

Tuesday (3 June) morning, we’ll leave bright and early from Bishkek, probably hiring a taxi from Osh Bazaar, for the 10-12 hour drive to Osh, the largest city in Southern Kyrgyzstan. Arrive in Osh in the evening, see if we can get a few supplies, exchange money, and spend the night in the Osh Guesthouse.

Wednesday (4 June) morning, we’ll again get up quite early for the ~7 hour drive from Osh to Karakul (a Tajik lake formed by a meteor impact) where we’ll stay in a house or yurt. Karakul is almost at an elevation of 4000 meters, which means we won’t be acclimatizing to the elevation gradually, as we should (oh well…).

Thursday (5 June) we’ll get up from our smelly yurt, see Karakul properly before getting back in the car for the 5+ hour drive to Murgab. Murgab is home to META (Murgab Ecotourism Association) which can arrange amazing things like staying in yurts. Hikes between yurts. Camel trekking through the mountains from one yurt to another. But seriously, we plan to stay in the Murgab area for at least 3 days doing all of the above.

Saturday/Sunday we’ll leave Murgab for another yurt/home stay in Bulunkul (probably).

Monday-ish we’ll head for the next yurt in Ishkashim, a small town that is interesting because it borders Afghanistan… On the way, we’ll be sure to stop and admire the Hindu Kush Mountains and maybe see a snow leopard or some Marco Polo sheep.

Tuesday-ish we’ll make it to Khorog. Not sure what we’re going to do there.

Wednesday-ish head for Dushanbe, most likely breaking up the 21 hour drive with a night somewhere in the middle.

Thursday-ish be in Dushanbe. Eat at the Georgian restaurant. See what else there is to do.

Friday-ish, go to Khojand in the north. Drop off Chris, who’ll continue his adventures by making a land-crossing into Uzbekistan.

Saturday-ish, Rory and I will return to Dushanbe. Eat at the other Georgian restaurant.

On Sunday we kind of have to be in Dushanbe to catch our flight back to Bishkek (but our tickets are refundable…).

As you’ve seen, our itinerary quickly becomes quite useless after Murgab, which is fine by us—as long as we’re looking out of a yurt at the peaks of the Pamir Mountains.

Bishkek: First Impressions

I’ve been in Bishkek for almost 2 weeks now (wow…), and am starting to get a feel for the city. Of course, I find myself comparing everything in Bishkek to what I’ve experienced in Tbilisi. Before coming to Bishkek, I was expecting to find a city that was “Tbilisi 10 years ago” (this is actually from a Kyrgyz friend I met in Tbilisi, though she hadn’t been in Bishkek for almost two years)—one that was rife with corruption, power outages, and a generally poor infrastructure. In Georgia, whenever I mentioned my next destination, I received responses that boiled down to “why would you ever want to go there?”

But I’ve been pleasantly surprised.

True, I would never call Bishkek a beautiful city. It is a relatively new city (nothing much until it was built up by the Soviets) with no “old town” with pretty architecture. But it’s apparent that it was a planned city. Unlike Tbilisi with its winding streets and a city plan that can best be described as illogical or “historic”, Bishkek is blessed with wide perpendicular streets that rarely get clogged with traffic. In the center of town, lush bench-filled parks are interspersed among the various government buildings. Even away from the center, the soviet-era block apartment buildings (like the one I live in) are usually separated from each other by trees and small playgrounds. I was shocked to find that Bishkek is home to a handful of malls, some of which might as well have been transplanted from the West—Tbilisi has a grand total of zero malls. Then there are the nice little touches like having not only water 24/7 (in my district in Tbilisi, water is shut off 12 hours every day), but centrally heated hot water. Even the dreaded marshrutkas (more on that later) are regulated, being more or less all the same model of Mercedes van, unlike Tbilisi’s as-long-as-it-moves-and-can-hold-more-people-than-it-should marshrutkas.

But I’m constantly reminded that I am in a very poor, post-soviet country in Central Asia. Just last Tuesday, while walking the 100 meters to the marshrutka stop from my home, I saw my neighbors slaughtering a sheep, the father deftly removing the fleece while the mother held the sheep still and the children looked on with interest. Or then there are the death-trap marshrutkas, which despite all being the same model, still hold way too many people. Last Friday, I noticed an unusually large number of people waiting for marshrutkas (there are several, each with its own route, which run by my place) at my stop, and after waiting for 20 minutes, realized that something was wrong. Finally, my marshrutka showed up and I barely squeezed on. The driver explained each time he stopped to pick up more (yes, more) people that they better get on his marshrutka since the other drivers were on strike to demand that fares be doubled from 5 to 10 soms (1 som = ~2.8 USA cents). By the time that it came close for me to get off, I counted 40 people on a van that has seats for 11 or 12. Not fun.

Then there are the inconveniences like not having cheap or easy access to internet because one of the main internet providers in Bishkek charges by the kilobyte of traffic, which has made it difficult to find a place to upload my photos. Or the worry of being stopped by the Militsia on the street without my passport on me, and having to make the decision of either taking the easy way out and just pay a bribe or being taken in to be shouted at for half an hour. (Fortunately, I am much less likely to be stopped than my other American friends because I look Central Asian, specifically Uzbek, according to one of my teachers.) Then there’s the fragile political situation, with a very unpopular president (he was never elected; rather, he made himself president), who until he returned to Bishkek two weeks ago, was rumored to be seriously ill or dead after being absent from the public scene for one month, and the brewing dissatisfaction which makes revolution only a question of when (according to my conversation teacher, 20% chance this spring).

I like to think of it as making life more interesting.

Next: My language school and host family

Gamarjoba Bishkekidan

For those of you who don't know Georgian, this post is for my Georgian friends who want to know what I'm up to.

გაგიმარჯოს,

ნუ გეშინია, ჩემი მასწავლებლები (3 მასწავლებელი მყავს) ძალიან კარგად მასწავლიან. ყოველდღე სამი საათი გაკვეტილი მაქვს. ჯერ გრამატიკა (ახლა ვსწავლობ „active and passive participles” читаюший მაგალიტად), მერე კითხვა და მოსმენა (ახლა ვკითხულობ Бунин), და ბოლოს ლაპარაკი.

ბიშკეკი ახალი ქალაქია. ბიშკეკი უპრო განვითარებულია თბილისზე იმიტომ, რომ ბევრი რუსი და თურქი მუშაობენ აქ. ახლა, წვიმს, მარა ბოლოს კაი ამინდი იყო. შაბათს მე დავურეკე დუნდასა და თემოს. როცა ველაპარაკებდი იმათან, რუსულად ველაპარაკებდი!! უიიიი.... მეშინია რომ დამავიწყდება ქართული!! მერე, მე და ჩემი მეგობრები ვიპოვეთ ქართული რესტორანი და შევჭამეთ იქ. რა თქმა უნდა, არ იყო გემრიელი როგორც საქართველოში, მარა ანჯაპსანდალი და ლობიო მომეწონა მაინც. მე მინდოდა მელაპარკა მზარეულს (ქართველიაო), მაგრამ მითხრეს სძინავსო!!!


მომიკითხე ყველას.

რაიან

Guess What...

Guess what: I’m not in Georgia anymore. No, I haven’t returned to the US; I’m in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, where I hope to be for the next couple of months.

Since the end of December, I have been taking private Russian lessons in Tbilisi, and while I learned a lot of grammar and continued to improve my reading skills, what I really wanted was to be able to speak Russian. After a total of almost 9 months in Georgia, 6 of which with a non-English speaking host family, my spoken Georgian has become quite good. If I wanted to achieve similar fluency in Russian, I had to be in a similar immersion environment. And while most Georgians know Russian, and the older generation even better Russian, I was handicapped by my Georgian—it’s difficult to force yourself to speak poorly in one language when you know you can express yourself easily in another.

That’s why back in February I began to look into living/studying in another, primarily Russian-speaking, country. I ruled out Russia pretty quickly because of cost of living and the hassle required to get a Russian visa (at one point, it looked like I would have to apply for a Russian visa back in the US). Ukraine looked like a good possibility, but I lacked the crucial personal connection. That’s when Kyrgyzstan presented itself. An American friend of mine in Tbilisi mentioned that a colleague of his had been studying in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan since September—and that he loved it. After just a brief email exchange, I was sold on going to Bishkek. I made plans to come to Bishkek in the beginning of April and study at the London School in Bishkek, a language school that teaches English to Kyrgyz students and Russian or Kyrgyz to foreigners. The London School also agreed to help me find a home stay.

For most of my last month in Georgia, I was in a state of denial of actually leaving this place that I had grown to love so much. It seemed that Georgia herself was reluctant to let me go: during the month of March, I picked up 3 more private students, made a couple more voiceovers (for national parks in Georgia—this time, I was given the drafts a day before the recording session so I could do my best to edit them), and made more good friends. Not to mention that spring arrived so quickly that the bitter cold and dreary days of winter were a distant memory. There were countless times where I seriously considered canceling my Bishkek plans. But I knew that I couldn’t stay in Georgia indefinitely (I do have two years of college left…), and that whether I left now or a couple months later, it would be just as difficult, if not more.

As my last week in Georgia crept up on me, it really began to sink in that it would be a long time before I saw any of these people again (realistically, the earliest I would be back would be after I graduate), and in a mad frenzy, began to say my farewells. In all, I had 4 farewell parties, each a poignant reminder of what I would be leaving behind. I’ll be back.

Getting from Tbilisi to Bishkek was hardly an easy trip. I had two flights, from Batumi (a Georgian city on the Black Sea) to Istanbul, and from Istanbul to Bishkek. To get from Tbilisi to Bishkek, I took a night train. I shared my compartment with a middle-aged couple and an elderly man. After a lecture on Georgian history (something that is almost always brought up in a conversation with a Georgian) and some interesting conversation about American and Georgian politics, we went to bed for the 8-hour trip.

In Batumi, I was met by a brother, Nodar, of a friend of mine from Tbilisi. I had been to nearby Kobuleti last August, but never Batumi. Nodar whisked me in his work van to his family home on a hill top looking over the city where I met his warm mother, hilarious grandmother, and brother (whom I had met in Tbilisi earlier). After a delicious breakfast complete with homegrown tea, it was off to the airport, but not without stopping for one last Georgian meal of Acharuli Khachapuri (a kind of cheese pizza with a runny egg and butter on top). During our meal, Nodar assured me that I would have no problems at the airport as he personally knew an employee at the Turkish Airlines desk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my 9 months in Georgia it’s that knowing the right people can make all the difference. And sure enough, even though my suitcase weighed 30 kg (I was only allowed 20 kg), it was “no problem,” and I was given the best seat in Economy Class.

I intentionally scheduled my flight so that I would have a one-night layover in Istanbul. I paid my $20 visa fee, retrieved my 30 kg suitcase, and headed out for my hostel via public transportation. My hostel, the Istanbul hostel, couldn’t have been a better location. It was less than a quarter mile from both the Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque. That first afternoon, I wandered through Sultanahmet and stumbled upon the Grand Bazaar, an endless maze of shops hocking everything from cell phones to huge oriental rugs. I noticed that some of the more successful shops had employees whose sole purpose was to lure customers in. Some of them resorted to pretty sly tactics to engage passersby in conversation. One such employee stopped me saying “I’ve been waiting for you!” I told him he must be mistaken, to which he replied, “Well, you must know me then, I’m famous here!” After another minute of talking, he invited me into his shop, saying “There is no pressure for you to buy anything; I just want to show you a few jackets.” I peeked in through the glass windows and saw an unfortunate tourist couple, seated with glasses of tea in their hands, held captive by a colleague of my new friend as they were being shown some expensive wares. No pressure, yeah right. I made some excuse about someone expecting me, and slipped away. The Hagia Sophia was closed that day, but the Blue Mosque wasn’t. See pictures online. [edit: pictures haven't been posted yet... I'm still in the process of finding an internet cafe that will let me upload pictures]

The next morning, I went to the now-open Hagia Sophia. From the outside, it’s clear that the same care and attention paid to the Blue Mosque has not been shown to the Hagia Sophia. The inside of the Hagia Sophia is certainly a sight to behold, if only to experience the huge emptiness within this former cathedral. I could only imagine how beautiful it looked before the sack of Constantinople. I found it interesting that parts of the frescoes (including a mosaic of the Theotokos with Child above the altar) had been “preserved” and were in pristine condition—it seems unlikely that any reminder of Hagia Sophia's Christian roots would have been preserved when converted into a mosque.

Before I knew it, I was back in the airport and on my flight to Bishkek. The 5 hour flight was uneventful and we touched down at around 1:30 am. It took me about an hour and a half to get my visa (unluckily for me, I was the last person in line, and the visa issuer decided to take a break when it came to my turn…). After a 30 minute taxi ride, I arrived in the center of Bishkek at the apartment of my American acquaintance, where after some conversation and a brief call home to let my folks know I had arrived safely, I went to bed to catch up on some much needed sleep.

More to come!!!

Natakhtari "Lemonade"

If you'll remember, back in December I wrote about a little gig I had recording my voice for an infomercial for Natakhtari Lemonade (soda). Well, I have the finished edit in my possession now. You will notice that the English is quite bad--not my fault! They gave me only 3 minutes to read over the script during which I tried my best to fix the most egregious of mistakes...

Time for an update!

Yes, I survived my ski trip, despite some close calls.

I don't know why I haven't written in such a long time. Blogging is one of those things that the more you wait to do it, the more painful it is to get started again and the more it nags at you--or that's how it is for me, anyway.

My ski trip to Gudauri was everything I had hoped for and then some. Not only did I get to spend 6 days among the breathtaking mountains of the Caucasus, but I also learned to ski and begin to ski well. My first day of "skiing" wasn't so hot. Not even close to being ready to take the 1st lift, I hiked 100 feet up from the base where there was enough slope to pick up speed. Like all beginners, I started off with the "snow plow" or "wedge" technique of slowing down. Yet as simple as it looked, I couldn't keep myself from not accelerating and slamming into and knocking down my instructor (who didn't speak English by the way, not that that really matters for me anymore)--and that's when I was lucky not to go. Somehow, by the 5th try I was successful in hitting my instructor with less force, and by the 7th or so, I could stop on my own. I returned to the ski lodge quite proud.

The next day, a bus load of teenagers arrived at my lodge (a ski school, actually), most of whom had never skied before either. While my instructor was teaching the group the snow plow technique, I showed off my stopping skills. Seeing myself to be the best among the beginners, I thought that this meant I was ready to take the lift and actually ski. So I did, without even asking the instructors permission. Bad idea. At least I went with a friend who was patient enough to wait for me to get up after I fell every 100 feet. And he was a witness to my not-so-short time in the air which resulted in me landing about 30 feet away from my skis. I repeated the first slope 4 more times and returned to the lodge grateful that falling doesn't hurt.

On the third day, it was decided that it would be best if an instructor accompanied me on the slope. Immediately, he noticed my problem (I was always turning with my right ski instead of leading with the inside ski) and I corrected it. My skiing improved dramatically and by the end of the day, I skiied the 2nd slope. The next 3 days of skiing were just bliss. I couldn't get enough of the adrenaline rush and the sensation of flying as I zipped by.

And the best part of the trip was the cost: only 40 lari ($25) per night for bed, 3 meals/day, skis, transportation from Tbilisi and instruction. Only the ski lift wasn't included (25 laris for a day pass). Sure it was noisy at times with 20+ teenagers and the beds weren't the most comfy, but I couldn't complain.

I'm planning on making another trip up there sometime in February.

Ski Trip

I'm off to Gudauri to ski in the Caucasus mountains. Seeing as I've never skied before, this should be an interesting experience. I'll be back on the 2nd.

Ryan

Changes

Last week, I was notified that my application for admission to Tbilisi State Medical University had finally been approved (this is after attending classes for 10+weeks) by the Ministry of Education ("Everyone was approved") and that now I could sign the contract and pay tuition. This was the first time I had been presented with a choice of whether or not I wanted to be a student. Which got me to think about my reasons for attending the university in the first place, which was not to learn medicine, but rather to:

1)Learn Georgian
2)Meet and make friends with other international students
3)Not lose, and perhaps gain, my pre-medical education from Chicago

The Georgian professor at TSMU, upon realizing that my knowledge of Georgian far exceeds that of any of my classmates, was good enough to challenge me by asking me to memorize extra vocabulary, but this was all that my Georgian class amounted to. In addition, the class only meets once a week for 1.5 hours, hardly enough time for a language class. Meanwhile, at my private lessons I've managed to continue going full steam ahead and within a couple of weeks I will have learned all of Georgian grammar (a scary thought).

During my three months at TSMU as a "free listener," I've been lucky to make friends with some of the other international students (primarily Turks and Indians). For those friendships which aren't limited to the classroom, I have no fear that I won't be able to maintain them outside the university.

If you've followed my previous posts on TSMU, you will know that for the most part, my classes have not been well taught. In fact, some classes almost amounted to torture. I have not gained anything from my classes except for in anatomy. Perhaps my negative impression of the classes has been exacerbated by the academic rigors of the University of Chicago, but even my classmates agree with me that this was worse than they had expected. I've been told that the classes get better in the upper years, but as I'm neither here to learn medicine nor to stay here beyond one year, I could care less.

I've also discovered that there is a dirty business behind the enrollment of most of the students. Almost all of the Indian students came to TSMU through contractors. The contractor guarantees prospective students that they will be admitted (not a hard promise to keep when you're dealing with a university that accepts anyone and everyone) and agrees to process all paperwork for them. The cost for such peace of mind: $5,000. Tuition at TSMU is only $2,000. To top it off, the students are bound to live in a hostel managed by the contractors at a rate of $170/month...

The university itself has some questionable practices which I won't get into here. Both because I've not managed to achieve my goals (except for making friends) and because I don't want my status as an American citizen to help advertise the university, I've decided to cease being a student at the university. Who knew that the bureaucracy surroundinig my admission would actually turn out to be a blessing?

Now I have much more free time which I plan to spend by:

1) Learning Russian. Yesterday, I met with my new Russian tutor and I left quite excited. I will have lessons 4 times a week (like Georgian). Hopefully, my year of Russian back in college will come back to me quickly and in a matter of a couple of months, my Russian will be on par with my Georgian. A long term goal for me is to go to Russia this summer and then take the Trans-Siberian railway from Moscow to Beijing...

2) Increasing my time at Ghudushauri National Medical Center. I know I will know much more about what being a doctor is really like from being with doctors than "studying" at a medical school. Expect more posts soon about my experiences at the hospital.

3) Continuing to teach English. I've added another private student and I may be getting another one soon. I find teaching to be a very pleasant experience and a great opportunity to meet people (for example, I would have never done the Natakhtari commercial if it weren't for my student).

4) Seeing more of Georgia.

Only in Georgia...

...would my voice be considered valuable.

Last Thursday, I made my debut in showbiz as a voice-over in an advertisement for the Georgian Brewery Company, Natakhtari. While their main product is their namesake beer, they also have a very successful line of mostly fruit-flavored sodas (or "lemonades" as the Georgians call it). The flavors include: grape, pear, peach, cherry, apple, tarragon, and cream among others. So successful, in fact, that they've decided to try to market it in the United States.

Which is where I come in. TBC TV Studio is in charge of Natakhtari's new ad campaign, which is meant for both Georgia and the US. The ad is more of an infomercial than your traditional 30-second pitch. It's a 5-minute presentation about the history of and process of making Natakhtari Lemonade, from the crystal clean waters of Natakhtari (it's a town in Georgia) to bottle sizes used.

How did I get this gig? Well, the aunt of one of my students works at TBC TV Studio, and since they needed an American voice... I was asked for the part. Since there aren't as many Americans as you would might expect, connections with someone who knows an American goes a long way here. My recording session only took 30 minutes and involved me reading the entire script twice as well as repeating sections that I got tongue-tied on. I was thrilled to be just a part of the ad, but they actually paid me for my chance at fame ;)

So, if you see an advertisement for Natakhtari Lemonade...

Busy!

Here's what I'm trying to juggle so far:

• Being a full-time student at Tbilisi State Medical University.
• Volunteering at the Chemistry Institute
• Volunteering at Ghudushauri National Medical Center (where I was this summer)
• Teaching English

Studies at TSMU have remained pretty much the same. That's to say that I'm not learning a whole lot from my classes except Anatomy. The other day in Biology practical, my Biology professor (whom I believe hasn't the faintest idea how to teach) decided to give us a practice test which he had written. The first problem was that the test was written in a find-the-mistake format. He had copied passages out of the textbook and intentionally changed terms--not the best way to test someone's knowledge when they haven't been taught it in the first place. To make things worse, some totally irrelevant terms were changed. For example, in a passage about the discovery of protein synthesis, he changed the date from 1950 to 1960--that was the mistake we were to have found.

Work at the chemistry institute has been slow, but you can hardly blame them given the conditions (I promise to take some pictures soon) they work in. Mzia, my chemistry professor, has been having a difficult time synthesizing her desired compound; more than a couple of times she has obtained a product that wasn't what it should have been. At least one of those times was the fault of using old chemicals (stockpiled from the Soviet days) which had since decomposed into something else entirely. I still manage to eat and drink every time I come, and now that wintry weather has arrived (it snowed last week), we've since moved on to spirits to keep ourselves warm.

I haven't yet actually returned to Ghudushauri to volunteer. I visited the hospital last Tuesday to speak with Dr. Merab about the possibility of my returning to volunteer and to ask him to write me a letter of recommendation for medical school. It was a strange experience to see all the people I had worked with for 6 weeks this past summer; some recognized me right off the bat, others didn't but kept glancing towards me trying to remember how they knew me. One huge difference I and my colleagues at Ghudushauri both noticed was how much my Georgian had improved. During my summer internship there, I was forced to communicate through someone that knew English, and therefore wasn't able to get to know many of the doctors and nurses as well as I would have liked. Now that I've made plans to return to Ghudushauri on a regular basis, I plan to get to know everyone better.

Teaching... As inexpensive as it is to live in Georgia, it never hurts to have a little cash on hand. And as it turns out, being a native English speaker in Georgia means you're a hot commodity. As with any non-English speaking country in the world (especially one that's trying to cozy up with the US), English is the new second language. Fortunately, as I've discovered, there are many very qualified Georgians who can teach English grammar quite well. But, thankfully, they understand that there are only some things that a native speaker can teach, such as slang, pronunciation, and conversation. And since there are relatively few native English speakers in Georgia, it wasn't hard for me to find teaching work.

I primarily teach four classes all at one school (it's actually in the teacher's, Anne's, house), once a week where my primary duty is to talk to the students and make them talk back to me. The level of proficiency in English among the four classes ranges from pre-intermediate to upper-intermediate, but even the pre-intermediate students (classifications determined by Anne) have a good grasp of English and don't have too much difficulty in communicating with me. The students are wonderful. In addition to being hard working, they seemed to be genuinely enthusiastic about learning English and using it with me. Teaching, as I've discovered, is quite draining. After 4 hours of talking and trying to explain concepts of my language that I've never had to think about before, I feel exhausted.

In addition to my 8 hours a week at Anne's school, I also have an 11-year old private student. He spent the last year in the States where he attended public school and by necessity, went from speaking virtually no English to having a good command of conversational English. His mother, who herself speaks fluent English, doesn't want him to lose the gains he's made in English and has hired me to come twice a week to speak with him and make him read books. I'll be sure to have him read my childhood favorites.

Just a brief snapshot of what's keeping me occupied in Tbilisi. I'll elaborate more when I have some free time.

Giorgoba, Riga

Gilocavt Giorgobas! Today is the feast day of St. George (Giorgi), one of the most important saints for Georgians. It is also the 4th anniversary of the Rose Revolution which swept Saakashvili to power. Either way, today is a reason for all Georgians to celebrate (i.e. drink lots of wine and eat lots of food) and I will surely join them.

I returned from Riga early Monday morning (4 am--almost all flights to/from Tbilisi arrive/leave around then) exhausted yet refreshed and at the same time glad to be back in Tbilisi.

Three days in Riga seemed to be just the right amount of time to explore the old part of the city, where I stayed. The city is relatively small (~700,000) and one can walk from one end of Old Riga to the other in less than 30 minutes. But that's not to say there isn't much to see. The architecture is stunning, from the 13th century Doma Cathedral to the Art Nouveau buildings along Alberta Street. At this time of year, days are short in this city at a latitude greater than 55 degrees; night came at 4:30 and the sun never rose very high in the sky, so that for all of the daylight hours it felt like morning.

When we weren't meandering through the city, Callie (my friend from College) and I visited the Museum of the Soviet Occupation, Museum of War--two museums that detail 800 years of invasion and oppression, not so unlike Georgia--and the Market. The Market is a huge complex of several buildings (it gets to cold to have a year round outdoor market) that sell everything from freshly slaughtered meat to delicious rye bread so dense that you can't compress the bread at all (I bought a 1 kilo loaf that looked half the size of one of our one-pound loaves of bread). Riga is just minutes from the Baltic Sea and fresh caught fish are sold every morning in the market. Fresh milk is sold from large steel drums by the kilo; buyers bring their own containers to take the milk.

Compared to Tbilisi, Riga feels like Western Europe to me. And if it weren't for the large Russian population (about 50% in Riga), most would probably agree with me. It was interesting for me, coming from one former Soviet Republic to another, to see how much more successful Latvia has been in catching up with the rest of Europe in terms of economic growth. Any street in old town looked nicer than the nicest street in Tbilisi. There are malls and grocery stores; Tbilisi has neither (the closest it gets is the bazaar). A great deal of Latvia's success is due to a combination of being closer to the rest of Europe and having only been under Soviet rule for 45 years (as opposed to Georgia's 70), but one still can't help but ask why it's taking Georgia so long. Interestingly, Callie, who's been studying in Prague, felt that Riga was the Eastern European Post-Soviet city she had hoped Prague to be, but apparently isn't.

But I don't want Tbilisi to feel like another Western European city. As beautiful of a city as Riga is, I felt that it didn't have half the character of Tbilisi. True, I was only there for 3 days and could be completely wrong, but I think that along with economic prosperity comes a threat to culture. Sure, Tbilisi is poor but the people are thankful for what they have and know how to celebrate every bit of good fortune that comes there way; strong families and close friends are the result of a necessity to help each other out during difficult times.

I do realize that life is difficult in Georgia and I do hope that Georgia finds economic prosperity, but I just hope that when I return in 20 years I'll still find Old Georgia in the people.

PS All the pictures of army vehicles and soldiers are from the Military Parade, part of the celebrations for Latvian Independence Day.

Off to...

Riga, Latvia!!

I know it sounds totally random, and, well, it is. I'm going there to meet up with a friend from College who's studying abroad in Prague this semester. Since we're both in the same general region of the world, we decided to meet up. Unfortunately, Tbilisi is both expensive to fly to and to fly from. Thanks to former Soviet bloc solidarity, there are relatively cheap flights to Riga... so that's why we're meeting there. I'll only be there for 3 days, but it will be a nice change of pace.

On the political front, things have stayed quiet here. The state of emergency is still in effect, though it's scheduled to be lifted Friday evening. Things don't look good for the opposition, however, which is trying to defeat President Saakashvili in the January 5th snap elections. Imedi TV, the opposition's megaphone, did not only see its equipment destroyed when the police invaded their studio last week (damage that might keep them off the air for three months), but was told yesterday by the Tbilisi City Court that their license to broadcast had been revoked. Meanwhile, the President has had the airwaves to himself, the privilege of an extended state of emergency.