Behind the Scenes: Serenity now!

I've been procrastinating this post because I still haven't found the best way to address this topic, nor the right tone to take. Living abroad is hard, living in Georgia is hard. I'm now on my second lap here in Georgia and I am doing fewer things for the first time which helps to create a sense of normalcy, yet still things are hard. This isn't my first time living abroad. When I was 19 I moved to Brazil and spent two years living and working there as well. My time in Brazil often stands as a good foil or at least parallel for comparing and contrasting my time in Georgia. I suspect that much like my time in Brazil my time in Georgia will be viewed with more fondness and positive emotion when I am no longer in the middle of it. Peace Corps is one of those experiences where when taken as a whole is definitely a net positive experience and something that is very much worthwhile. However, were you to take a sampling of my mood and sentiments at some random point in during my service the answers in the moment might not represent the overall feelings. (Are you still following me?)

Just a behind the behind the scenes photo shooting action

I have now been here for 18 months and I am tired. It is exhausting to have to answer the same questions everyday especially when the question itself can be offensive or you can't answer truthfully. It is exhausting to have to realign your expectations and try and keep yourself from getting upset. It is exhausting to try and navigate confusing cultural situations where you don't want to offend anyone. There are a lot of things that are just exhausting. (I'll add as a disclaimer that I don't stand out as much as other volunteers, especially people of color, I can't imagine having to deal with the attention and others issues they face on a daily basis.) I miss the comfort and familiarity of living in a culture that I know and understand.

The mountains of Racha

Over the past year and a half, I have come to appreciate the attribute of resiliency, or the ability to bounce back. Developing resiliency is an important part of living abroad. I am a fairly resilient person, and I haven't found it terribly difficult to bounce back after disappointment or frustration. However, that bounce back can take you higher or lower than the original starting point (think of a rubber ball bouncing, sometimes higher sometimes lower). Tips for building this resilience generally include ideas such as: building relationships, finding meaning/purpose, recognizing the small successes, re-framing your experiences in a positive light, and taking care of your personal wellness (all areas). This is all great advice, but I will tell you- it is still hard. I am sure you have heard of the serenity prayer-

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

That is basically a life motto nowadays, especially the last line. At least I am no longer banging my head against the wall trying to change problems that I can't or which will require more than just my personal efforts.

Literal comfort food

Here are two recent examples of frustrations I have had (please try not to judge me if they seem petty)-

Two weekends ago I took a trip with some friends to visit the mountainous region of Racha. We had a great weekend planned and were excited to get out into nature. Due to it being the off season and the lack of good tourist information online it was hard to pre-plan all of the trip, but we were willing to go in and stay flexible with our plans. Over the course of the weekend I can count 4 instances where I was told that the price for a service- lodging, food, transport, would be one thing and then at the end it was another. That is a very frustrating situation to be in, especially because it leads you to feel like you are being taken advantage of but you don't/can't cause a scene because you are trying to represent the US well and because you don't want to create any problems for the Peace Corps. I had to spent a lot of time alone in my room to try and decompress after I made it back home from that trip.



Next, we had a volunteer Halloween party this weekend and I had coordinated with a restaurant to reserve the private upstairs portion and have some food and music. It was supposed to be a volunteers only party for safety reasons and we were all looking forward to getting together to relax. The restaurant was so nice and they decorated the place and made it look great. As time went on we began to notice more and more locals showing up and realized that the employees were inviting their friends over because they didn't have to work or wait on tables like normal. They would just come and hang out in our party. Not great but not terrible. However as it got later these extra guests began to make demands like, "We've been listening to your music all night, let us put on our music and do some dancing." At which point some locals went to my computer and just changed the music. It was really annoying since we'd worked hard to create a playlist that the volunteers would like. Also, I have been living in Georgia for 18 months and I listen to their music all day everyday, this was supposed to be a private party where we could listen to whatever we wanted.

Halloween costumes- Ghosts of sexy past

In both cases the problem came down to expectations. We were expecting one price and being forced to pay another, or we were expecting to have control over the music at our party and yet the locals decided they needed to intervene on our behalf to share their own music (their form of hospitality). In both of these situations I was fairly annoyed, but in both situations I had to temper my response and try to present it in a way that was soft and not off putting. Each time the response wasn't very effective. We still had to pay the higher price, and we still let them hijack our music. Managing your expectations has a lot to do with being resilient and having success- even if the expectation appears to be a new-brainer.

Pretty sunset always make life easier

There you have it, life is hard... However, life is good. I might get upset about how masculinity is presented/projected, how people drive, how many times I have to answer the same questions, how truthful I am allowed to be in answering said questions, the pressure of always being a representative of something larger than your individual self (your country per say), or how poorly my students are behaving at the lesson; yet, in the end life is still good. I am still learning so many things which are shaping my world views and outlook, I am meeting some truly inspiring people, and I am doing work which is having a positive benefit on the lives of the people I am attempting to assist. I am mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted but I am still glad to be here and I am having the time of my life, it's just good to note that it isn't always easy.

P.S. The rats above my ceiling must be the size of a small child because they are SOO noisy when they run around. Who knows what they are doing up there!

New Beginnings and Tragic Endings

A new school year has begun (or I should say began 1 month ago). As a general PSA, I should tell you that I will be finishing my school year (and consequently my Peace Corps time) in 8 months- time flies. However fast time is flying however, there is still more to do than could ever be done (at least that is how I am feeling).

With the new school year has also come new classes, students, and teachers to work with. There is a lot of adjustment to be done. We are working on the same things as always- please stop talking, did anyone do their homework, who knows what this means, where are all your missing classmates, and the list goes on. Hopefully I will have good news to report soon.

Shout out to my friend Dillon for sending me a package of Taco Bell hot sauce packets 

In non-teaching related news a lot has been going on here in Georgia. Last weekend there were parliamentary elections across the country. The campaigns were riddled with mudslinging and personality politics but mostly calm. However, things did escalate during the last week or so including a shooting at one rally and a car bombing at another. Both of which left few people injured but are a sign of a dangerous level of rhetoric and passion in politics- not unlike what is going on in my own country. The car bomb was especially noteworthy since I happened to be in Tbilisi at the time and Peace Corps had to do some quick work to make sure all volunteers ans staff were safe and accounted for. Thankfully elections here are mostly wrapped up (some run-offs are still to come). Likewise I cannot wait for the constant embarrassing stream of US election coverage to end. It is getting harder and harder to explain what is going on back home while I try to represent the democratic ideals the US is supposed to represent. Hypocrisy has never looked so bad.

I finally got a new bed which means I am no longer sleeping on couch cushions!

Changing topic now.... While I was in Tbilisi for this training (a super cool training that I was grateful to attend and which will do great things for the PC program here in Georgia, but which I am down playing for brevity) I noticed that many of my students were posting mysteriously sad notes on Facebook. Such posts are often hard to decipher due to Georgians penchant for poetry in everyday writing. However, I eventually realized that they were alluding to the surprising death of one of my fellow teachers. I was stunned to say the least.

Due to travel restrictions we spent Election day exploring this abandoned building in town,
I'm also trying to lighten up a pretty somber post.

Medea was a math teacher and relatively young. She was active in her work and I helped her several times to translate an abstract of some paper she was publishing. She was also a single mother. Several years ago her husband passed away in a car accident, which in a cruel twist of fate was the same thing that took her life last week. Before her husband died they had been working on fertility treatments and she had just gotten pregnant. The stress and effects of her husband's death led her to have a miscarriage and lose their child. A couple years later she realized that her husbands sperm was still saved at the clinic and chose to be artificially inseminated and miraculously was impregnated again. Early this year she miraculously gave birth posthumously to his baby.  We had a huge celebration this Spring when the baby was christened.

Ignore the fact that this is an upper floor of an abandoned building...

A few weeks ago she was invited to appear on a national morning show in Tbilisi and share her miraculous story. It was an emotional broadcast. On the way home from the taping the driver seemingly fell asleep at the wheel and they crashed into an oncoming semi-truck. Medea, her child, her neighbor, and the driver- a father of four, all died at the scene of the accident. It was all a great tragedy. I was away from school for the rest of the week was wasn't able to experience the grieving process but from the messages online and conversations with my host family and others in Poti, it was a terrible loss felt by many people.

Some cookies to lighten the mood.

This past Tuesday was Medea's funeral, scheduled after a week of mourning and a constant wake/vigil. Classes were cut short and I went with my teachers to pay our respects. Since she had lived in a small apartment and there wasn't room to accommodate all the visitors, a makeshift canopy structure had been constructed outside in an empty lot to house the grievers and visitors. Her mother was there wailing, per Georgia culture, over the loss of her daughter and grandchild. She was surrounded by female relatives dressed in black who were also crying and grieving the loss. A path was made for visitors to pay there respects so as a group we approached and one by one left a rose on the casket and moved through the mourning space. It was very emotional.

A photo shared from their car ride to Tbilisi

After we had paid our respects we waited for an hour while everyone else made their way through. Then the coffins were carried into a hearse and the procession of mourners began their journey to the cemetery. We joined them there and watched as the coffins arrived. Her mother, who is quite old, had to be supported on both side due to her lack of strength after 7 full days of grieving- wailing with lack of sufficient nourishment and sleep. Following the visit to the cemetery we went to the traditional supra where the mood was noticeably lighter. There were close to 250 people gathered there: friends, relatives, fellow teachers, and other close acquaintances. The men made the traditional toast but the mood was no longer one of unimaginable grief as it has been an hour before.

A photo from the Morning Show segment about Medea

I have witnessed the Georgian death and funeral traditions before but this time I was much more involved. It was a strangely beautiful yet foreign experience. One that has caused me to be more reflective and thoughtful as I consider my own beliefs about death and the life after, but also the traditions and ceremony which we use to commemorate a person's life.  Tragedies such as this are unexpected and difficult to process but provide opportunity for evaluation and reflection. This experience has definitely touched something inside of me and deepened my resolve (however cliche) to live a better life.

P.S. Many already know this but I can't help to mention more publicly that I would like to request this song to be performed at my funeral- video montage optional.

I can never decide which version I like more

Mom Came Down to Georgia: part 2

Continues from part 1

Wednesday morning was a lot more relaxed. First, we headed out to explore Borjomi and partake of their magic mineral and spring waters. They water has a strong sulfur smell with one spring giving cold water and the other a warm, both however are naturally carbonated. If the legends are true, this water should cure all my ailments. Next, we took the gondola up the mountain and we were finally able to ride on a Ferris wheel. They started it up just for us. Logan and I were the only passengers and we spent the whole ride taking selfies, standing, and doing whatever we wanted. After our ride a passerby told us that there was yet another "must-see” church. Logan started us out on a trek through the forest following markings on the trees. After a while, we came upon a guy in the trees that was surprised to see us. He was surprised Logan spoke Georgian as most people are, and the two got talking. As we were heading off and the man mentioned we could get to the church just as easily by sticking to the main road- so much for trail blazing. We got back on the road and continued our "short" walk. (No such thing, all our walks in Georgia ended up being more of an adventure than I ever saw coming.) We eventually found the church in the woods. It was the only church I saw in Georgia that was an outdoor church. The bells, the alter, everything was outside and open but in a remote location with a small structure nearby. We read the story of the famous monk who ate only grass and prayed on a rock for almost three years and poked around a little before heading back to our guesthouse.

Next on the list was Kutaisi where we would spend the night with a fellow PCV from Logan’s group. Karen is probably my age and has her own apartment which has been deemed "casa de Karen". This is a favorite hangout whenever someone from G15 group is in town. After another marshutka adventure we greeted in Kutaisi by some pouring rain. We were able to make it to Karen’s without getting too wet, dropped off our luggage and headed out to explore and eat. That night we to dinner with Karen and Jill, another PCV from Logan’s group. I had a great time getting to know more of Logan’s friends. Karen and Jill, like all the others I was able to spend time with, were so kind and giving. I have been so humbled to interact with all of these people from the Peace Corps, see how amazing they are, and how much they are doing with the Peace Corp. I can’t help but feel like an underachiever when I hear about all they are doing.

The following day, Thursday, we decided to forego marshutkas and hire a taxi for the entire day. We started our adventure at Prometheus Cave, then up in the mountains to see some beautiful waterfalls. As we hike down to the waterfalls I couldn’t get over how much hidden beauty there is all around us. We wanted to get some pictures sitting on the edge of a cliff overlooking a waterfall when it hit me that if anything happened to Logan out here I was doomed. Here I was in the middle of nowhere, in the mountains, in a small village where I'm sure no one speaks English. I would never be able to get out of here on my own. That thought made me hold on to Logan a little bit tighter as we made our way back out and to the car. Our next stop was another of my must-see places, Okatse Canyon. Our driver took us to the visitor’s center and told us that for another 30 Lari another person could drive us up to the entrance to the canyon or we could walk the 2km from the visitor’s center. I thought the walk wouldn’t be a big deal so we turned down the expensive offer.

What started out as a leisurely path through the trees, quickly turned into a sharp downhill decline. With every step the dread of our return trip up back up increased. Once we reached the canyon rim it was all worth it. I can’t even describe what the canyon and walkway was like. You descend onto a wooden walkway which is suspended out over the canyon and is anchored to the side of the cliff. As long as I didn’t think about the engineering too much we were ok, but if I looked down through the cracks it would hit how precarious of place I was in- I loved every minute of it!

By now each day was just an adventure to see how many steps and flights of stairs I could climb as we hiked and walked. That competitive mindset really helped me get my butt back up to where we began this trek, that and the promise of the first diet soda I had seen during my whole time in Georgia.



Our final stop, was the beautiful Martvili Canyon. Here we were able to take a canoe ride through the canyon to see some amazing scenery. I should say that I was able to ride, Logan somehow ended up having to paddle and was not happy about it, after all we did pay extra for this tour. (Logan: might I add that the guide in the back definitely wasn’t pulling his weight when it came to paddling.) I sat back and relaxed, snapping selfies and enjoying Logan’s unhappy face!

After a full day of exploring we talked our driver into taking us back to Karen’s house and then to the station so we could catch our ride to Poti to meet Logan’s current host family. When you meet someone for the first time you always want to make a good first impression and I knew that I looked as good as I felt. After this long day of hiking and walking with high humidity and occasional rain, to say I was unprepared to meet Logan’s family is an understanding. However, when we arrived the rain had started and I was thankful that Logan’s host dad and sister were waiting for us with a car. When we arrived at the house the rest of the family and some friends were waiting for us, so I put on a happy face and tried my best to not look how I felt.

Later after settling in I needed to take a shower. I gathered my stuff and Logan directed me to the shower room outside of the house. It was an adventure, but not much different than taking a shower in a campground. When I came back in the house everyone was still there waiting for me and Madona, his host mom, requested to take a picture. I had just gotten out of the shower- no makeup, dripping wet hair, and wearing my PJs. I smiled, and hesitantly agreed, made his host sister promise to delete the photo later.

The next morning, we were up early and on our way to Logan’s school. A day I'll not soon forget. I was humbled and overwhelmed with how kind the kids and teachers were to me. In the classes the kids were given the opportunity to ask me anything they wanted. It was so fun to see their reactions as I was told them about myself and family. Every class asked me how many children I had and were blown away when I told them I had 6 kids. Big families are not a thing in Georgia. My next favorite question was my age. I’ve come to terms with my age so I didn't mind it at all, I certainly loved their reactions to that. If ever I need an ego boost these kids could give it to me. They said I looked so young, they couldn't believe my age or that I was a grandma. (Logan: might I add that most Georgians thought we were brother and sister or a married couple, not my favorite…) In the 7th grade classroom, I felt like some type of rock star with how the kids welcomed me and the proceeded to put on an impromptu program with singing and dancing and then posing for pictures. Later as I was walking down the hall with Logan several girls came up to me and asked to take selfies. It was crazy but fun and I loved it! I felt bad that I had disrupted their class time; however, good old Logan didn't let them off the hook. With only a few minutes left in each class he made sure they all got homework assignments- what a kill joy!!

That night we met up with other Peace Corp volunteers that had come to town to help with a special event they were putting on for children with disabilities. We were able to enjoy a fun night at the famous Poti pirate ship restaurant. Logan also took me to meet the orphanage kids that he visits regularly. They were adorable! Each kid was so polite, taking our coats, pulling out chairs, and asking questions. I could not get over out well-mannered and kind they were. I wished I would have known before hand and remembered to bring them something from the US. They were easily the highlight of my night.

Saturday was the day of the big event, but unfortunately, it was a bust because of the weather. It rained most of the day and parents took it as an excuse to keep their kids with special needs at home. There is a lot of stigma associated with disabilities in Georgia and the weather was a good excuse for people to use. Despite the setback, there were a lot of youth volunteers that had signed up to help with the event who had some despite the rain. It quickly transformed in to a good training session for them along with games and karaoke. After pictures and good byes to the volunteers and Logan’s host family we made our way to the station for our last marshutka ride. This one turned out to be the best one yet. Several other PCVs were on board and we were able to talk and laugh- in English the entire way.

Batumi was our last stop, and this was to be my relaxing part of the trip. I insisted we stay in a nice hotel and I wasn't disappointed. I spent over half an hour standing in the shower letting the water rain down on my head and wash away all the dirt and sweat and smells of this amazing adventure. This by no means was my first shower but it was the best shower I’d had in almost 2 weeks. In the morning we had a huge brunch in the hotel and then headed out to explore the boardwalk, do some souvenir shopping, and then walk along the shores of the Black Sea. It was still threatening rain but it held off long enough for me to collect some rocks, take some selfies, and touch the water. The water ended up coming up on me while taking a picture and my feet and legs got wet but I was surprised by how warm the water was. If the weather had been nicer, we would have definitely gone swimming. Instead we ended up at Luca Polare for my final gelato treat. We even happened upon two other volunteers, Grace and Safi, who were also enjoying the best gelato in town so we invited them to join us for lunch before we all headed our separate ways. Since this was my last meal in Georgia, Logan insisted that I finally try the Acharuli khatchapuri or “cheese-boat” as it is often referred to. I hadn’t loved many of the various cheese breads we had tried thus far, but this one was definitely the best. Logan I and split one and I don’t think anyone one could ever eat a whole one in good consciousness.

For our final trip back to Tbilisi, Logan booked us first class tickets on a 6hr train ride across the country. As my time was quickly passing I couldn't believe all the history in this amazing country. We traveled east to west and then north to south. From the Russian border to the Turkish border and just about everything in between. The amount of history and in the country is incomprehensible and hard to wrap my mind around. I was saw places and things older than anything back home, some from before 500 BC. I can’t even describe everything I was able to see, touch, and experience.

My trip was 10 days of seeing and doing things I never imagined, eating foods with weird names, and listening to a loud strange language. Best of all I got to share this amazing opportunity with my son, traveling to places he has become a part of and to meeting people who love him almost as much as I do. It really does a mother’s heart good to hear people praise my son, and to meet all the amazing people he is working with in the Peace Corp that have become his "foreign family".

Thank you Peace Corp for taking such good care of him and for letting me see just how much is put into making sure these volunteers are always safe and accounted for. I left Georgia with a new appreciation for this small yet beautiful country and with my mind at peace knowing that my son is well cared for and loved. Thank you to all the friends, coworkers, and surrogate family members who made my trip one to remember.

Some final thoughts:

Things I really liked about Georgia:

• I always felt safe any time of the day 
• When you go out to eat, your food comes out as soon as it is ready and hot; you seem to be getting food continually 
• Warm hospitality from so many strangers
• Inexpensive foods
• Good khinkali, fried potatoes, tomato and cucumber salad, and hazelnuts
• Plenty of exercise walking everywhere
• Meeting PCVs and staff
• Seeing what my son's experience has been like!

Instead of a bathroom stall wall they opted for the scenic window...

Things I didn't like during my trip:

• Marshutkas and drivers
• Crazy scary driving wherever we went
• No seat belts
• Speed limit never followed 
• Cigarette smoke in small places
• No ice in my drink and no Diet Coke 
• Salty cheeses
• Bartering for rides
• Loud voices 
• Loud music on marshutkas
• Many old abandoned buildings

Mom Came Down to Georgia: part 1

I need to preface my blog by stating that I am not a well-traveled person.  The extent of my travel includes only brief trips to Mexico and Canada.   Therefore, flying around the world was an adventure beyond my wildest dreams- or nightmares I wasn't quite sure which when I began this adventure. 

I left the comforts of home and familiar food Wednesday morning but given the distance I didn't arrive in Tbilisi until Friday morning.  I had a 12-hour layover in Istanbul Turkey which was an adventure in itself and one I don't wish to ever repeat. As soon as I got on the plane to Georgia I felt like I had stepped back in time.  The crew was dressed in skirts and blouses with little hats, and we boarded the plan by walking out on the tarmac and up a portable set of stairs. For me, it was definitely a step back in time.

I arrived in Tbilisi sometime around 2:00 am, and I must say it was good to see Logan’s happy face waiting for me just outside the baggage claim.  I was tired, hungry and ready to be with someone who could just take over and let me just relax.  After a big hug we were off to start our adventure together.  As we walked towards the exit he leaned in to tell me to brace myself for what was waiting outside. How crazy could it be?  Its 2:00 am, shouldn't most people be in bed? How wrong I was.  I think every taxi driver the country was waiting outside smoking and yelling.  I almost wanted to turn back, but grabbed my son’s arm and held on to him and my luggage.  After what sounded like a yelling match and some very unhappy people, Logan turned to me and pointed out the taxi to get into.  I wasn't sure this was a good idea - after all hadn't they just been fighting?  I soon found out that this is how Georgians speak - loud and full of emotion.  Let the fun begin!

The capital city of Tbilisi was a good place to start acclimating me to this foreign country.  English is still commonly spoken, and there are a few American style restaurants here and there.  Including the dessert shop Luca Polare which sold the best gelato I have ever had, I’m not a huge ice cream fan but I loved this stuff! 

The first stop on my tour was the Peace Corp office. Getting to meet all the people behind the scenes working to keep Logan safe, productive, and happy was wonderful.  I have a new love and appreciation for all of them.  After a quick bite to eat we stopped by the FLEX (State Dept. funded high school exchange) program office and Logan introduced me to some of the Georgians he has worked with.  I was so amazed at the work they do and the caliber of the kids that are in this program.  Finally, we headed out to explore the city - touring through old town Tbilisi, my first castle, a waterfall, several churches, and a mosque until sundown. 

That evening we met up with other PCVs at the new "Hard Rock" Tbilisi.  Knowing this was probably my last familiar meal I really enjoyed myself, but probably not as much as the PCV's who have gone without some of these American favorites for much longer than me.  It was fun to get to meet and interact with so many of them and to get to celebrate Melody’s birthday.  We then decided to make the night last a little longer and take the funicular up to the Ferris wheel on top of the hill overlooking Tbilisi.  Unfortunately, we arrived just after the Ferris wheel had closed for the night, so we settled for some hot doughnuts and ice cream. Luckily, Logan decided we needed to walk home rather than take a taxi so we could at least pretend to work off the food we’d just eaten. It was way past my bedtime when we arrived back at the AirBnb and I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.  

Saturday morning, I woke up to see Logan dressed and ready for the day. I wasn't about to let him think his mother was too old and/or out of shape so I quickly got ready for another long day.  We were soon on our way to the transit station for another taxi cab shouting/haggling match. We found a driver and were off. Our first stop was the Ananauri Fortress, built on a hill overlooking a valley/present day reservoir.  The view was stunning.  Next, we were continued onto the town of Stepatsminda at the base of Mount Kazbegi.  As we neared the guesthouse our driver started complaining about the dirt road and began to drive slowly and carefully like his vehicle was some precious commodity regardless of the fact that he’d spent the past two hours roaring through the mountains like it was the Indy 500. 

Kazbegi turned out to be an adventure I wasn't ready for.  We took another car up the mountain and it was most definitely the scariest journey of my life. The bumpy dirt roads were barely wide enough for one vehicle, and yet they were packed in both directions with large vans flying around corners with and narrowly squeezing past each other as they barely avoided going off the edge.  I spent the ride praying and hanging onto dear life while Logan sat utterly relaxed.

After a long day of hiking, walking, and exploring we headed to our guest house only to find that there was a miscommunication and dinner was not waiting for us. We had to walk all the way back down to the town to get some dinner.  Like the lunch we had earlier in the day, dinner didn’t turn out very well. I started to wonder if I’d find anything I like to eat, besides the tomato and cucumber salad which was quickly becoming my staple.  Later we walk back up the hill to our our cold no heater-less room.  Logan told me this was just a mild taste of what winter was like. We hunkered down in our beds with our covers pulled over our heads – it’s just like camping, I kept telling myself.  

(I would like to note that on this day I got over 30,000 steps and climbed over 221 flights of stairs according to my Vivofit, Logan was not taking it easy on me.) 

Sunday morning, we headed back to Tbilisi to attend church.  We were a little late but considering the 3 hour marshutka ride back into town, I was just glad we made it there at all.  Church was another new experience for me. I've never attend church meetings that weren’t in English. Here they were speaking Georgian, Russian, and some English.  My favorite part was getting to attend the primary classes and see these sweet spirits singing familiar songs in Georgian and English.  Later that day, after some more sightseeing, we ended our time in Tbilisi by going to dinner with Logan’s friend Nino, a FLEX alumnus.  She was so nice and kind and I so loved hearing her speak English as if it was her native language.  At dinner I laughed as she and Logan talked about FLEX exchange students and their experiences in the US. Afterwards we parted ways and we gathered out belongings and headed to Melody’s house in Tserovani.

Tserovani is an IDP (internally displaced person, like an internal refugee) settlement. Overall, it was much better than I had imagined.  I had pictured a refugee camp with haphazardly built shelters and homes. This settlement was made of identical homes- 2 bedrooms, living room, bathroom and kitchen.  I was amazed to learn that these hundreds of homes were built in just a few months following the August 2008 war with Russia when many  of these people were forced to flee from their homes in the now occupied territory.

After our tour of the settlement with Melody we headed to the old Georgian capital of Mskheta. A quaint town with picturesque streets and shops.  We meet up with Sophia a PCV with Logan’s group and had lunch. With some convincing I decided to give khinkali (Georgian dumplings) another try.  They were so much better than the ones we'd had in Kazbegi.  I really liked it, and since Sophia was there we were even able to order mushroom khinkali without many objections from Logan.  Our stay in Mskheta was short because we needed to board another marshutka, this time to Gori (Stalin’s birthplace) followed by a short taxi ride to Skra (the small village Logan spent his first three months in).

By visiting Skra I finally get to meet Logan’s first host family and who I refer to as his Village Family.  As soon as we stopped in front of the house the family was out the street to meet us.  Logan was quickly hugged and welcomed like their long lost son.  I loved seeing how much he has been welcomed into this family.  I could see right away why Logan likes to come back and visit them whenever possible.  Irma, the host mom, was so warm and kind to me. She was eager to show me around the village and all through their orchards and vineyards.  It was a beautiful place and I loved walking around a learning about their way of life.  It was late when we made it back to the house but Irma still had plans to serve some of Logan’s favorite foods.  In no time at all, there were all kinds of food being set out for us. It was so much more than I could ever imagine eating on an empty stomach, not to mention the fact that my stomach was still adjusting to all the new foods and tastes.  I tried as much as I dared and Logan covered for me a few times by eating off my plate or making it look like I had tried more than I actually did.  I certainly didn't want to offend anyone, but at the same time I knew that my fragile stomach could only handle so much. To top it all off I even got to experience the dreaded outhouse I had seen pictures of a year ago.  It wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected, but I was fine only visiting it once. Thankfully my body agreed with my mind.

Tuesday once again started bright and early, we said our good byes and caught a train from the village to Borjomi. Turns out the train is much more enjoyable than the marshutka. Borjomi was our destination but we stopped only long enough to drop off our stuff off and catch the next marshutka. 

Marshutkas are always an adventure, and this day it didn't disappoint.  We found the spot to wait and soon the marshutka pulled up. As soon as we started to approach it another newer marshutka pulled up behind. We decided we would just get on that one instead.  As we got on the second marshutka the first driver came around asking us what we were doing and launched into a triad yelling at our driver and seemingly us and others who choose this vehicle over his. Most Georgian sounds like yelling but I knew without a doubt this was no holds barred yelling.  The guy was going postal.  There was no way I was going to get on that marshutka with this stark raving lunatic.  After no one decided to move he took off squeezing his tires as he left.  Our driver waited around for a few more minutes before taking off.  He had remained calm the entire time, but he must have internalized his anger because he seemed to be taking it all out on the road.  I really thought this might be the end for me.  We were flying around corners, and passing everything in our way.  In no time at all we passed that first marshutka.  I was so relieved when we finally made it to our destination. I wasn't sure Logan could ever get me back in another marshutka again. 

We met up with another one of Logan’s friends for lunch and then took a taxi up to see the Rabati Fortress.  Finally, a really fortress and not another rundown set of ruins on a mountain top. It was beautiful and everything I imagined a fortress to be.  It had recently undergone some major renovations but it was worth it.  The grounds were amazing, full of color and contrast.  The buildings were restored and refurbished but still maintained the old feel but with a clean look.  I loved hiking up the stairs in the tower and I felt like Rapunzel when we reached the top.  The views from the openings were beyond description.  Taking pictures really didn't do the place justice. 

After spending plenty of time exploring the museum and fortress grounds we headed off to see the ancient cave city of Vardzia, another place I was looking forward to experiencing.  I had reviewed Logan’s pictures before coming and knew this was one place I really wanted to see.  It did not disappoint.  I am still amazed at how this cave city could even exist.  How in the world did these monks create such a place in the side of a mountain?  The caves were used to live in, to eat and prepare food, to worship, and who knows what else. It was unbelievable to think of the community they were able to create in the side of this mountain, not to mention how they got supplies and tools up there to construct what they did.  It would be an arduous endeavor today but to think that it was done almost 1,000 years ago is mind boggling to me. 

When it was time to return to Borjomi and I had no choice but to haul my butt back into another marshutka. We caught the last marshutka headed back to Borjomi and expected the normal 45 min ride. However, this driver unlike all the others was in no hurry to arrive anywhere.  We were driving so slow even semis were passing us.  We stopped for anyone that even remotely looked like they may need a ride somewhere.  You would have thought he was trying to fill empty seats, but no!  We were at capacity with some people standing.  To top this all off we were about 2 miles from our stop when a passenger talked him in to stopping for a break.  It turned out to be a 20-minute smoke break! We arrived back in Borjomi an hour later than expected. Starving and ready for some dinner.