Life in Gori

I have been traveling around the country a lot lately, and I realized that I have neglected to write more about life in Gori.  I have said many times over the past two months that I am really glad to have been sent to Gori.  It is both a proper city (aprox. 50,000) and a small village (i.e. cows and chickens in the road).  I have really enjoyed becoming part of the community here in Gori and participating in the many important springtime events.


Bonfires
The first of these was the Wednesday before Easter.  I cannot pronounce, or spell for that matter, the official name of this day, but the basic premise is that everyone lights bonfires around town and the children jump over the flames.  My host mother explained that this tradition was started back in the old days when people would burn their old clothes and get the "devils" out of the home before Easter.  Or something to that extent.  The most popular kindling for the fires is not clothing, however, it's tires.  So it is well-known that you should never ever hang out your laundry on this day because everything will become sooty and black.

I had a wonderful time walking through town with my family stopping at all of the different fires.  We met up with my host mom's sister and her daughters and walked around some more while munching on sunflower seeds.  Sunflower seeds are an integral part of walking in spring.

bonfires

walking with a gaggle of girls

 bonfires

St. George's Day
The next big event I got to participate in was St. George's Day on May 6th.  This is a very exciting day for Gori dwellers as it means that Gori Jvari reopens for the summer.  It remains open until November 23rd, the other St. George's Day.  Gori Jvari is a large church that sits up on a hill near my house overlooking the city.  Whenever Georgians pass a church they cross themselves three times, so it is common to see people stopped in the middle of my street crossing themselves furiously.  Surprisingly we had school that day, not surprisingly few students showed up and those who did were petulant about not being able to leave early and walk to the church.  I asked my 5th grade what was special about this day and how they celebrate.  They explained to me that it commemorates when St. George killed a dragon ( I think?) and that they go to the church and sacrifice sheep.  The older of my host sisters invited me to join her classmates on a picnic.  Since only 3 of my students showed up for our lesson, I was released early for the picnic.

Gori Jvari in the distance

The  "walk" to Gori Jvari takes about an hour and is straight up hill.  We were only a few in a sea of many people making their way to the church.  The air was heavy with festivity (and wine).  The wind always blows in Gori, but that day it was particularly strong and I was surprised not to see chickens and Gori dwellers flying off the hillside.  When we finally made it to the church, only a few people from the group went inside to pray while the rest of us stayed outside and enjoyed the view.  I watched as one of the sheep tried to get away from his owner, and by extension his upcoming fate. 

The walk to Gori Jvari

Gori Jvari

Gori Jvari

Our time at the church was brief.  It became clear to me that the most important part of this day was actually the picnic.  We walked about twenty more minutes further into the woods, where the wind couldn't get to us, and settled in.  My host dad had very kindly prepared the lamb shishkabobs for the picnic the night before.  When the boys started the fire and began putting the meat onto skewers my host sister shook her head and said "they don't know what they are doing," and took over the skewer duties.  I was proud of her. Soon we were feasting on lamb, lavash and jonjoli.

(Side note: I have become a fan of jonjoli which is a pickled, green, salty plant that seems to exist only in Georgia.  I recently came home to buckets of light pink and white flowers covering the balcony.  I was told that that is what jonjoli looks like before it gets pickled.  There are now several jars on the counter waiting to be eaten.)

After about an hour I ran out of things to talk about with this group of 16 year-olds.  Turns out we don't have all that much in common, and I am after all their teacher, so I was ready to head back down as it was also getting chilly.  However, there was still some socializing to be done, so I waited and observed until it was time to go.  As we headed down the hill it got quite cold.  At some point my sister much have realized that she shouldn't be caught coming home without a coat (the fact that a nice young man had lent her his, was not
 going to be a viable explanation for grandma), so she said to me "we must wait here for Kati."  Sure enough a few moments later Kati came running from around the corner with a coat and Nata was able to come home pretending she had it all along.  Sisterhood, it is the same everywhere.

Rock Concert
The latest event in Gori took place last Thursday.  All week my family had been talking about the rock concert that would take place in the city center.  As I was walking around earlier in the day I saw the stage being set up with a huge banner with the European Union Monitoring Mission logo and about a dozen of their cars lined up.  I didn't realize that the EUMM could take time off from their peacekeeping duties (they monitor the peace accords between Russia and Georgia) to hold rock concerts.  A highlight for my family and students was that Vassia, a very charming Russian teacher from my school who is known for being quite the jazz musician back in his youth, was going to be playing in this concert.  He joined a group of young and old musician and rocked Gori post-Soviet style.  The music sounded exactly like what you would expect rock in the former-Soviet Union to sound like.  I went with my host family and my friend Netty, which added up to a gaggle of girls and Uncle Zaza.  It appeared that everyone in Gori was at this event, all age groups, dancing around together, eating sunflower seeds and drinking fanta.  I said to Netty that the only thing missing was the "Saqartvelo!" chant.  And moments later there is was.  We later walked home with the gaggle of girls singing "I love rock and roll."  


Life is good in Gori.

Two Fortresses and Cave City

Last weekend I went into Tbilisi for a quick day trip.  What I love most about Tbilisi is that is unlike any city I have ever been to.  My fellow teachers, Annette and Jessica, and I decided to walk up to Narikala Fortress.  As we made our way up the back streets of Tbilisi and ascended the stairs leading the to fortress we had incredible views of the city.  In addition to the cityscape we also got to peek into the daily lives of Georgians -- a man working in his garden, a woman hanging out the laundry, another man repairing his house.  Approaching the top of the fortress we saw a group posing for pictures at the highest point.  They had slipped underneath the safety rails and were standing on the rock jutting out over the city.  It was a gorgeous day for looking out over the city, so naturally we did the same once we made it up there...when in Georgia. 


The next day I ventured up Gori Fortress with my teaching assistant Nino and my host sister Nata.  Nino led me over to the the binoculars and the guard pointed out all the surrounding sights for us: the church on the hill, the church on the mountain top, the cemetery, the neighboring town, South Ossetia, and the refugee settlements.  Next Nino led us down what I have been calling a "hole."  Really it was an opening that led us down over some rocks, through some bushes, over some more rocks to the the fortress wall.  There was also a slightly hidden alter where people had bound their own crosses with sticks and grass, similar to how St. Nino bound her cross with stick and a strand of her hair.

When we returned home I was feeling rather accomplished as I sat munching on my soup.  My host father came home and Nata filled him in on our excursion.  There was some rapid chatter followed by everyone's eyes lighting up.  My sisters informed me we were going on a picnic to Uplistsikhe, which is a cave city a few miles out of Gori that I have been very eager to see.  We hurriedly packed up the picnic supplies and headed out the door.  Moments later we were cruising down the street -- quick stop for lavash, another for fanta, another for the lamb meat for the shishkabobs.  My family led me through the various nooks and crannies of the cave city, which was even better than I expected.  It reminded me a lot of the places I would explore with my parents when we would travel to southern Utah. Next we found a nice green spot, dad fired up the grill, and we sat enjoying the warm weather.

Me on a fortress wall

alter

alter

alter

Uplistsikhe

Uplistsikhe

View from picnic spot of Uplistsikhe

Exploring Gori

Last weekend I went exploring on my own around Gori.  I felt it was time that I wander the streets and learn how to navigate them without the help of my family.  I met up with Annette, another teacher stationed in Gori, and we wandered around the market, Stalin's gardens and settled into the cake house for cake and coffee.  As much as I adore my family it was nice to get out of the apartment and walk around and not worry too much about how fast I was spoke.

On Sunday and I went to church with my family.  They are Georgian Orthodox and wanted to show me the special church in their village just outside of Gori.  I felt like I would be spotted as an outsider right away and banished from the church.  But my host sisters were so excited to share this experience with me that they made sure to whisper instructions at every step.  Just as I was getting swept away in the otherworldly sound of the prayers and singing...somebody's cellphone rang.  Somethings are universal - even in a small village far far away.  The highlight was walking around the outside of church listening to the winds whip through the old stone walls.  A friendly dog was trotting around the grounds and eventually settled into the role of official greeter at the door of the church. 

In America after church people go eat pancakes (I have never been to church, but I hear this is true).  In Georgia they go eat kinkhali while dance music pumps in the background.  Later that night I attended another supra with my family.  Once more, we ate and ate and ate and made plenty of toasts (to God, to us, to friends, to siblings, to husbands and wives, and to me).

Here is my weekend summed up in photos:

 

Fortress

Market

Market

Church

 

 

 

Church

Church Dog

The youngest family member explains the important duty of the tamada.

When they toasted to me they brought out the BIG glasses and several family members said something kind and then drank the whole glass.  Then it was my turn to do the same.

They were very proud when I gulped down the whole glass.  I have never received so much applause for anything in my life.

My Life as Teacher

I have just finished my first full week of teaching.  I arrived in Gori last Monday, but since Tuesday was a holiday (International Women's Day) I did not go to school until Wednesday.

It must be said that while the idea of picking up and moving to another country, with no information on where or with whom I would be living, was a bit nerve-racking.  However, the aspect of this adventure that made me the most nervous was the prospect of teaching very young children.  Those who know me are well aware about my limited interactions with children and the great discomfort they tend to cause me.  So imagine my surprise when I discovered that I absolutely adore my 3rd and 5th graders.  I was so nervous when my first co-teacher asked me to attend her 5th grade class.  No - actually, I was terrified.  What on earth would I say to them?  Low and behold they are some of the smartest, most enthusiastic students I have ever encountered.  It is clear that some have additional private English lessons, because their ability to speak with no prompts is amazing.  Others may not be as well equipped, but they are all willing to try.  Same goes for my 3rd graders.  The mere act of asking them a question or giving them some additional attention seems to energize even the children who tend not to participate in class.

In the 3rd grade they are learning animals, so I decided to draw pictures of the jungle, forest, ocean, desert and a farm and give the students each a card with a picture of an animal and its name in English.  I then asked them to tell me where their animal lives.  They had not yet learned the word "ocean," but upon looking at pictures of fish and whales and sharks, they quickly expanded their vocabulary (with great volume I should say).  When I arrived at my next lesson with them there were two chocolates waiting for me on my desk.

Similarly, my 5th graders are always excited to see me and my co-teacher.  Earlier this week my co-teacher took a piece a paper from one of the students and it said "I love Manuela very much."  For a girl that has had very few love letters in her life, this was a highlight of my week.  The 5th graders learned about jobs and professions this week.  We played games around the question of "what do you want to be when you grow up?" and "what is your job?"  As I wrote out the words on the blackboard, I heard one student shout out: "my job is learning!" 

This isn't to say that there aren't moments when the familiar panic returns or when I desperately want them to sit quietly in their chairs and stop talking.  There are plenty  of those moments.  But the unabashed enthusiasm for learning English and willingness to speak in class tends to even things out.


I am also co-teaching 8th, 9th, 10th and 11th graders.  Unfortunately, it has not been the same with the older kids as it has been with the young ones.  At 27 I have never really felt "old."  If anything I always feel too young.  However, being immersed once again in a junior high and high school environment has not only made me feel old and out of touch, it has also reawakened all of those horrible memories of being a teenager.  There is nothing in the world that would make me want to relive those years.  When I walk into classes, or even just around the hallway, there is plenty of staring, whispering and pointing.  Fortunately, I no longer find it as traumatizing as I did when I was 15.  Several of the students have started to say "hello" and "how are you" instead of just staring, so that eases the stress quite a bit. 


I have had question and answer sessions in each class.  The students can ask me anything they want, as long as it is in English.  The questions, without exception, are as follow:
How old are you?
Do you have a husband or boyfriend?
Do you like Georgia?
Do you like Georgian food?
What kind of music do you like?

In every class there is a core group of students who can speak very well, always do their homework and generally get the most attention from the teacher.  They are delightful to work with, especially when I give them a project and they are so excited about it that they do extra work.  However, remembering the general awfulness of teenagedom, I really do want to find a way to get the other students involved.  In some ways I do not blame them at all for not wanting to do their homework.  Memorizing a page of very dry text on the history of the California gold rush is not something I find appealing either.  Even the teachers have commented that the books are sometimes too boring. When I mentioned the idea of bringing more games or other topics into the classroom, my co-teachers were very supportive and enthusiastic.

So now that the students have asked me questions, I have started asking them questions.  They do not yet know that this is for the purpose of figuring out what I want to plans my lessons on (i.e. Lady Gaga or Justin Bieber).  This is especially important research when it comes to those surly silent types.  The questions, without exception, are as follow:
What kind of music do you like? (Pop music and rock music)
Who is your favorite musician? (Runs the gamut, from Bieber to the Beatles)
What movies do you like? (action, comedy, horror)
What is you favorite movie and/or actor? (they love Johnny Depp)
Do you watch TV? (No, I study too much to have time to watch TV)
Do you want to learn about American culture? (yes!)

This process has actually gotten some great responses.  I discovered that one the 10th grade boys could in fact speak very well.  He likes horror movies and his favorite movie is Interview with a Vampire.  Another girl in that class told me she likes New Moon.  So now I am planning a mini-lesson on vampires and zombies and their popularity in America.  We'll see if this gets me in with the cool kids.

Speaking of the cool kids.  The other aspect of teaching is working with the teachers. In between classes and when they have no lessons, all of the teachers gather in their lounge.  I have gotten used to them speaking loudly about me even though I am only sitting 2 feet away.  In fact it is helping me learn more Georgian words, I now know good girl, girl, English, Russian, and American.  Whenever I bust out my markers and paper or my flashcards, they all gather around and watch intently.

I am supposed to have 3 co-teachers, but instead I have 4.  I think this is because there are so many English teachers in my school (approx. 13 I think).  Generally the teachers do not have a huge amount of lessons in the week.  My co-teacher for the 5th class only teaches three 45 minute classes a week.  So really, my workload is not that much different with the additional teacher.

The first week with my co-teachers was stressful, it was clear they had a hard time understanding me and my American accent and they weren't quite sure how to work with me.  However, they were all excited to meet me and have me in their school.  The first 3 days or so I spent shadowing them and jotting down notes during their lessons.  I have taken the approach of trying to build on the ideas of their lessons, for example the 8th grade learned about landmarks in London and Washington, D.C.  So I asked them to research a new city and write me a postcard.  (One girl loved the assignment so much she wrote me two.)  For the most part, me and my co-teachers are easing into our working relationships.  In the span of just a week and half, most have become really excited about the prospects of better utilizing me in the classroom. 

As with every new experience there are complications and surprises and frustrations, but I finished my first full week of school feeling generally optimistic about how the rest of the semester will go.

At the Heart of Gori

I have only been in the land of a Stalin for a few days, but there is already so much to say.  For now I will tell you about my new Georgian family.

I met my family on Monday.  My school principal and host father traveled to Tbilisi along with another principal and host mother who would be hosting one of my fellow teachers.  Dato (my host father) was over the moon when I greeted him in Georgian, he has been telling everyone we meet about it.  Goes to show that just a few words in a new language can get you a long way.

The car ride from Tbilisi is only an hour or so, but we stopped along the way to eat kachapuri and khinkali at a restaurant that lies under the view of one of Georgia's most ancient and sacred churches.  After lunch, as we drew closer to Gori our new Georgian friends pointed out vast amounts of newly built houses and explained that the government built them after the war in 2008 for the refugees from South Ossetia.  Within my school alone, there are several children and teachers who have been displaced from their homes in South Ossetia.  Looking at the rows and rows of houses and then hearing, "this is just some, there are many more," it was hard to grasp just how many people had fled or been forced out. 

When we arrived in my family's home in Gori I was greeted by my new host sisters and grandparents, who were all peeking over the balcony as the car drove up.  The older of my two sisters, Nata, showed me around the lovely apartment and brought me to my room, which is huge and beautiful.  Shortly after that, Dato and my sisters drove me around Gori.  They showed me the main street (Stalin Ave.), the main museum (Stalin's) and the city center where the main government building sits.  They also drove me around the outskirts of the town, showing me the buildings that had been destroyed during the war and later rebuilt.  This included the school where I am teaching, which is just across the street from my apartment building. Dato also pointed out where he works, which is the Ministry of Internal Affairs (the equivalent of the FBI I am told).

Later that day I met my host mother (Maya) who had been at work all day.  She is just as amazing and warm as the rest of the family.  Upon seeing me she said "We have been waiting for you since October!"  Like her daughters, she also speaks English very well.  Dato's parents, who live with us, do not speak any English, but they do speak Russian, as does the rest of the family.  Between my few words of Georgian, limited Russian and their excellent English and Russian, we have managed to communicate very well.  Our dinners are trilingual!  They are all eager to practice English and learn more words, but when I brought out my notebook to practice writing the Georgian alphabet, they were even more excited to help me learn Georgian, pronouncing K', Gh and Kh over and over for me.

On my first day I asked about the internet, wondering if I should go buy the wireless stick from geocelli that we had been discussing in training all week.  But I was simply told that it would be taken care of.  The next day Dato came home with a very long ethernet cable which is now running from the router in the living room, under a series of carpets, behind furniture, and through a newly carved hole in my door.  They also offered to change the lock on my door so that I could not only lock it from the inside, but also the outside.  I told them it was not necessary, which they found surprising.

In general my family is very busy.  Maya and Dato work 6 days a week and the girls attend lessons after school, sometimes late into the night.  The girls are very smart, Nata wants to be an economist and they both love math and science.  I asked my sisters what they do for fun, and one responded "what is fun?"  I hope it was a lapse in vocabulary and not an indication that she never has fun.  While the grandparents stay mostly at home, they also keep busy with cooking and cleaning and other tasks around the house.  I am trying to get to the know the city as soon as possible so I can stop interrupting their schedules.  For now my sisters are walking with me or Dato is driving me places so I do not get lost.  Thankfully, Gori is relatively small, so I can walk to most places once I get better oriented.

Celebrating International Women's Day

On Tuesday it was International Women's Day, so there was no work.  Maya brought me a new scarf and a set of my own house slippers as a gift.  Later Dato's sisters came over to celebrate with us.  I heard a knock at the door followed by excited whispering, then one of them peeked around the corner and said "Hi!"  They immediately showed me the gift they had brought to welcome me, a bracelet carved with St. George's name and "in god we trust" in Georgian.  We drank wine and ate the Hershey's chocolates I had brought from America. 

On Wednesday I attended my first supra, which is a Georgian tradition of eating and drinking late into the night.  Maya's father was celebrating his birthday.  I met Maya's sisters and brother and their husbands and wife.  Once again it was a trilingual affair.  Zaza, Maya's sister's husband and an officer in the Georgian army, was appointed tamada.  For those of you who did not attend a 2 hour lecture on the Georgian tradition of supra, the tamada is the toastmaster, which is a huge responsibility.  Mainly because you need to be able to toast dozens of times, drinking the whole glass of wine in one gulp, and not get (or at least appear) drunk.  There are a series of toasts that are required to be done in a certain order, some involve all of the men standing while the women sit and others involve special bowls.  It was quite the experience and I believe I have another to attend tomorrow.  I only wish Anthony Bourdain could be here.

I now know all of my new family members, including aunts uncles, cousins, and grandparents, who all live just minutes away.  We never get to choose our families, but I feel truly blessed to have been given such a wonderful Georgian family while also having a wonderful American family waiting at home.

Man(uela) of Steel

Last night we received our teaching placements.  I will be heading to Gori in about an hour to teach at school #7.  Two other teachers will be with me in the city and several more just one town over.  I couldn't be more happy with my placement, I cannot wait to visit the fortress and the Stalin museum, which my guidebook notes is the "most interesting museum in Georgia." 

I am excited and nervous to meet my new family and co-teachers.  After a week of training and meeting with teachers who have been here since August, I have so much information, but at the same time still do not know what to expect next.  I am also still nervous about teaching, but it's now time for me to jump into the deep end.  Land of Stalin here I come.