Thursday 18th August 2011
Today we met our host family. We were all waiting on one side of the hotel lobby and the families were waiting on the other side. We didn’t realise this at first but it became obvious that these people were not hotel guests! Then the organiser called out our names and the families came over and off we went! We were met by the our host father Beso and his eldest daughter Nino (80% of girls are called Nino) and also his brother. I was given guest of honour seat in the front of the car and Martin, Nino and Uncle were squashed in the back, in the heat but the windows wide open.
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Irene and Me waiting to be
handed over to our host families |
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| Foyer at the Hotel Bazaleti |
The car was a bit ramshackle and smelled strongly of petrol and he drove in a typical Georgian fashion – fast and furious! What I love is the 1970’s attitude to smoking here and Beso and Uncle smoked all the way in the car! We stayed on the main motorway for about an hour and a half and then turned off onto an unmade road for a while and then came into a ramshackle village which turned out to be the town of Kareli.
We continued on the unmade road into our village which is little more than a few roads and houses and 1 shop which is very exciting as I believe we spotted coca cola in the window! It is something to do. What is evident at this point is that the walk to Kareli station of 3 miles is not going to be anything like the walk from the cottage in Upminster to the station haha.
Let me tell you about the family. There is Beso the father who is 38 and his wife Maia who is 32 and Beso’s mother Neli who is 58. They have 2 daughters, Nino, 15 and Katia 13. They are of course a very traditional family as is very common in Georgia. Beso and Maia met when Beso dragged Maia into a car and this meant that they had to get married. Let’s do the maths – 32 take away 15 is 17 so allowing for the 9 months it takes to produce a baby means that she was 16 and he was 22. They seem very happy together so I don’t know. They are all nice and friendly. Luckily for us Nino speaks a reasonable amount of English and the deda speaks some French, but the parents speak no English but a little bit of German. So our communication skills are being sorely tested.
We ate as soon as we arrived and the meal was set out on the kitchen table; a tomato and onion salad, rissoles, spaghetti, spam, cheese, vegetables in mayonnaise and bread. It was really tasty. Martin and Beso engaged in some macho testosterone thing that involved Beso making various toasts to the family, the mountains and something else and Martin swilling back 3 glasses of homemade red wine. He didn’t even spill any down his shirt which was very impressive.
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| Delicious Food! |
Beso only drinks beer and nothing else. I was given wine but Maia and Neli and the girls drank fizzy pear juice which was rather nice. Maybe they were warned about forcing alcohol on the teachers but I expected a bit more alcohol to be flowing all round. There was hearty laughing and rubbing of male bellies so I assume this was also part of the male bonding going on. I hasten to add that this wasn’t mutual rubbing, but rather their own bellies they were rubbing. We worked out between us that Maia and Neli had made the cheese on the table and that the tomatoes came from the garden and Katia made the vegetable salad. I asked if they would show me how to make the cheese and Maia demonstrated milking a cow, so I think I may be in for that. Always wanted to be a land girl lol.
I lay on the bed while Martin unpacked his stuff then I fell asleep and he went out walking with Nino and found his new school which is a 20 minute walk away. Later on Beso’s Uncle who is a policeman came over and drank beer with Martin and Beso while I watched a film with Maia and the girls and then we joined the men outside on the terrace. We managed to communicate quite well and we all laughed a lot but maybe not at the same things. We found out that police in Georgia are called dogs and we shared that they are called pigs in England. We discussed the riots in England. We talked a lot about BBQs and I think they roast a pig on New Year’s day. It was a bit confusing because we have been invited to go hunting and I wasn’t sure if they were talking about what we do with the spoils. The school principle at my school is a man and very good but the principle at Martin’s school is a woman who thinks she is the president and wont listen to you. She or maybe the whole village drinks a lot of wine.
Let me say a little about the house itself.
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| Front of House
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| Back of house
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| Front of my school. New double-glazed windows! |
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| The rear of the main block – in need of a paint job. |
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| The gym at my school (no glass in windows) |
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| A tattered Georgia flag in the playground |
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Open the door ....
(we were advised never to use
the toilets and now we know why!) |
We are going to Kareili tomorrow to sort out the internet and maybe buy some things. In two days time we are going up the mountains to see the countryside. That’s all I know right now.
Friday 19th August 2011
Am losing track of the days here and took me a while to work it out. We have had a fabulous 2 days here so far and it is about as different as you can get from the daily life in the UK. However on so many levels it is strangely similar. Must be something to do with human nature and about how men and women are with each other.
On Friday we made the trip to Gori, birthplace of Stalin and about 15 miles from our home village. Martin had the privilege of sitting in the front seat with me, Maia and Nino in the back, me in the middle on the high bit so my head touched the ceiling lol. It’s a pretty grim place overall but I gather it took a bit of a knock during the Russian skirmish in 2008 but even so it’s one of the prettiest places I have visited. We first went to the bank to set up internet banking and this was a small triumph in itself. They obviously don’t do this very often and to set up 2 accounts in one day was obviously a major event which involved 4 different bank clerks and lots of animation. In the end after lots of gestures from all concerned and several cigarettes (I have not yet succumbed) the deed was done. Not content with that I confused the issue by asking if I could pay money into my account. Blank faces all round and I was told no. Have you ever heard of a bank that wont take your money? I even took out the sponduli and waved it at them and made stabbing movements but this did not help the situation.
Poor old Beso, you can see he is a man that is not comfortable to be in a confined space for any length of time and his patience was being put to the test here. But his ordeal was not over as he had to endure another hour in the internet shop setting us up with the wireless internet. His face told it all and I would not have liked to have been at the other end of it. Ah the conflict between being a good host, a Georgian man and having to do the boring shit. This could pave the way for freedom for Georgian women.
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It was a hot day and people are scrambling
for attention at the bank |
I would like to say that Beso had been punished enough but no. There was shopping to be done. For Martin. There was a vicious rumour that adults in Georgia did not wear shorts and so Martin did not pack any. This is not the case and so we are on the hunt for shorts. We were taken first to a more expensive shop. 45 GEL for a pair of shorts (£16) was too much. I saw Beso showing his hands both sides to the shop keeper as if to say “Look at these hands! – do you think I can afford to spend 45GEL on these ponsy pair of drawyers” So we left empty handed.
In need of sustenance we were taken to this cafe (kind of) for Khagaguri. We walked through the door and then the room was partitioned off into large private booths with a table and chairs and swing stable doors painted bright red. With the white plastic walls it was quite an interesting experience and the traditional food of Khagaguri was brought to us.
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| It's a bit like the Wild West |
This food is one of the best things I have eaten. Even better than my masterchef pork ribs with clams I hear you ask? Well maybe, just maybe. To say that it is a pizza stuff with cheese sauce is reasonably accurate but totally denies the fresh tasty pastry / bread casing with the delectable cheese sauce which is running with lumps of cheese in it. Steaming hot. OMG pure delight. We had a double layer and only one piece was put into a doggy bag. Nino had none, Maia and me had 2 or 3 pieces but the rest was devoured by “The Men”.
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| It tasted absolutely exquisite |
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| Beso and Nino |
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Maia and Nino in the Kingalli Restaurant
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We still went looking for shorts and found a pair in the market for 23GEL (£5) so we were all happy. On the way back we stopped at a baker’s and we drove home with a large chocolate gateau precariously balanced on Maia’s lap.
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| The men get down and dirty with the internet |
Later on we tried to get the internet installed on our laptops but couldn’t do it. Much discussion later (fast, furious and gesticulations) the solution is to get one of Beso’s cousins to come over from Kareli as he is very good with computers. They all jump in the car (Beso, a cousin or 2 and Martin) and go and bring back the cousin who knows about computers.
We have a crowd of young men playing with the computers – Martin is saying to me “I did that and it didn’t work” (obviously his manhood is being slowly crushed) and I am thinking “remind me what my job is back in England” as I can sense that it would not be the done thing if I try to get in on the action. There are are sighs of relief and a clapping of hands as say-so and so-so (I think that was their names) have been successful. Martin is mumbling something about DOS. But we are back in business. They all jump in the car again and Martin goes too to drop the cousin back in Kareli. Martin told me after that if I thought daytime driving was a bit hairy then I should try it at night in the dark with no street lights.
Saturday 21st August 2011
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| Just Beautiful
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The entrance to the monastery
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Today the family drove us to a monastery in the mountains. Women are not allowed in a church wearing trousers so I wore Lisa’s dress (haha) and took a scarf to wear over my head. It was all beautiful. The mountains, forest, waterfall and the monastery. The paint has faded now but it would have been painted in the most intense colours on every wall and the ceiling. The bright blue could be seen in some places still. The monastery was dedicated to St Nicholas. We stopped for a picnic in the monastery grounds and a large watermelon was produced with bottles of coke and beer or as we say here “ludi . The melon was ceremoniously sliced and devoured. Delicious! The food here is absolutely full of flavour. Must be something to do with it being fresh and not forced hahah. We continued back down the mountain and then Beso stopped and turned the car engine off. The car then rolled backwards UPHILL! Gestures indicate “It’s a miracle!” and much laughter. It really was odd to be rolling uphill – for emphasis Beso got out of the car and run alongside for a few seconds just so that it was clear he wasn’t in control. So funny.
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| Walking through the forest |
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| In the monastery grounds |
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| Beso attacks the watermelon
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| Enough for all – the tastiest watermelon ever |
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| Picnic lunch - Watermelon and Beer! |
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| Martin and Beso drinking beer |
We had Kinghalli for dinner. OMG if the khaghapuri was good this was something else. Imagine circles of pastry with a ball of meat in the the middle then the edges pulled up and gathered so that it looks like a pleated bag. This is then steamed and then how you eat it is by nibbling the edges and sucking all the gravy out and then eating the ball of meat leaving the stump of pastry. It was soooooo good. Neli kept saying “George Bush KHingalli Khingalli, Khingalli” and moving her head side to side and rolling her eyes which I took to mean that when George Bush came to Georgia he kept going on about how lovely they were. Must learn how to make them. Yum yum.
Over dinner we broke the news to Maia and Beso that we have been invited to meet up with the other teachers in Batumi on Monday and will be gone for 3 or 4 days. Their faces said it all. The look of unhappiness was clear to see. Nino told me that her mum wants us to stay in the house with her and not go. Feel a bit guilty. No really guilty. I do understand but the others are going and we have 3 or 4 weeks before we start school and we really do not have any time whatsoever on our own. I could hold out for a bit longer before having a break but everyone is meeting up and that is that.
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| OMG Kingalli is so good
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There always seems to be things going on that of course we don’t understand. That is the nature of village life and not speaking each other’s language. An old woman slowly made her way into the yard and up the steps. No-one took any notice of her particularly. This was Beso’s grandmother, Neli’s mother-in-law. She was given a seat and sat there looking a bit forlorn with her head on her stick but no-one took much notice. Now you would have thought that in a community like this they would be running all over the show, but no. Neli did not even move from her seat in the kitchen and neither did Beso. Finally with a face like thunder Beso jumps up and grabs his keys and then goes to the car. Bebia (Granny) follows and then naturally Martin goes too. Apparently, Bebia has to go to the doctor’s and that is a man thing, so Beso has to do it and Martin is a man so he gets to hang out with the guys and everyone is pissed off with the cousin. It is not clear which cousin as the village is literally full of one cousin or the other, of one or the other family member. In fact Nino keeps saying that the village is one family but I didn’t realise she meant this literally.
With the men and Bebia gone, there is a heated discussion amongst the women about I haven’t a clue and so after 10 minutes I retreat to the peace of our bedroom only to be called 3 minutes later by Nino telling me that we are going to meet the English teacher at my school. Let’s not worry about protocol here I think, I know there is meant to be an official meeting of my principle and co-teachers at some point. But hell, we bumped into the school director yesterday morning in town and i shook his hand so let’s do it.
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| Nino and her best friend Zhana |
Nino, Kakhtia and Nino’s best friend Janeeta walk me round to the teacher’s house. We are welcomed by this oldish woman who kisses all her students and me. Much to the delight of everyone I am doing a Nuria kiss trick which is once for English, twice for Spanish and 3 times for Parisians and so everyone is kissing like this now. Maia and Neli were very amused when I did this to Martin in the kitchen and gave him a coy kiss on the lips for number 4. I think I’m turning Georgian, yes I’m turning Georgian, I really think so; as the song goes. Anyway I digress. We are invited in to a small room with an adjoining kitchen and this room is full of furniture. There is a double bed in the corner and a single bed along the next wall and a wardrobe, armchair and TV. In the middle of the room is a table and chairs. Sitting at the table is a very old woman dressed in black with grey hair and a cross around her neck. There is a younger woman in the armchair in the corner who looks worn out and drained and it is difficult to tell what her age is. The whole image is straight out of a Russian novel. It felt that there should be a single exposed light bulb dangling from the ceiling.
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| Daughter-in-law (Khatuna), Yvette and Juliette |
The old woman is really pleased to meet me and contrary to first appearances is extremely lively and alert. It turns out that she is the geography teacher at the school and was 77 two days ago and her name is Evette. Juliette is the English teacher and the first thing she asks me is how old am I and do I have children. Although this is very common, it still takes me by surprise and I have the urge to lie every time. I don’t know why this is as I don’t feel like this in England. We go through the how many boys and girls issue and what ages they are and then I give the same information about Martini (His name in Georgia).
There is constant talking and translating and we go through the following topics; the previous volunteer who was young and from New York and not like me and who was very nice but completely ineffective. She didn’t go to their houses and get to know them at all. They did not know why this was. English people are more traditional and fit in better with their culture. The problems with their education system and the difficulties in teaching English – she finished her degree in 1971 an has never spoken to an native English speaker and has no books or teaching materials. She is a diabetic.
They put out watermelon, fruit and sweets and coffee for me and then her husband appears and produces schnapps. He does various toasts which are very long-winded and revolve around women, teachers, God, English and Georgians not necessarily in that order. It is only me and him that do the toasting and I am trying to work out what is going on here with the alcohol issue.
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| In between toasts |
Everyone seems very happy anyway and then we leave, and Juliette’s husband show us a “fetch” trick with his dog and his cigarettes. Not sure if it is a joke, but apparently he has trained his dog to fetch cigarettes out of supermarkets. I am not sure whether to believe him or not.
Still on our way out we leave the yard and turn left to meet with the History teacher next door. We have a chat, do the international kissing thing, and she calls over her daughter who tell me in English that Georgia is a very old country and that they are very patriotic and love Georgia very much. She then asks me how old I am and how many children I have. I answer and then tell her about Martini. Her mother, another History teacher comes out and I go through the same kissing and questioning routine again.
They also explain that Katya the other English teacher who lives (points at house) is in Tblisi for the summer. They all live opposite the school. We move on 5 feet and then the Georgian teacher turns up and we kiss internationally but does not ask me how old I am or how many children I have and for some reason I feel disappointed haha. We continue to walk and she asks if my husband and I will visit her for a meal soon to which I said yes! Finally we break away and walk back in darkness to the house but not without stopping and saying hello to a couple of students. This boy is loved by Nino’s family and I do the kissing thing and finally, finally get to the house using my flashlight to guide us. Well me.
We are in just 5 minutes when we are invited for a meal over at Irina’s across the way. Martin isn’t keen – he is peopled out and doesn’t feel too clever but I insist! (It’s the Georgian in me!) and we go to Irina’s. Her house is quite large, similar to Beso and Maia’s home. She is in her 40’s and we meet her daughter who has a 4 year old girl and her daughter in law who is married to her son So-So. So-So has two children, Barbara who is 4 and Saba a boy who is 18 moths by the look of him. Beso LOVES Saba and Saba LOVES Beso.
It is lovely to see this stocky bloke take such delight in this little boy who wants to be carried by him all the time. Yesterday on one of the guy outings, Saba sat on Beso’s lap while he drove. Anyhow they made a big fuss, Khaghapuri with a bean filling and best cups. Maia and Beso seem to have adjusted to the fact that we are going to Batumi for 3 days without them and tell us that they will take us to catch the Marshrutka tomorrow morning. We do this for a couple of hours then go home.
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| The best cups are brought out for us |
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| Maia and Beso are a lovely affectionate couple |
In the middle of the night Martin is sick twice – Martin is drinking tap water – yes that’s right – and he is not used to the particular strain of e-coli. I should point out that we had already eaten a big meal at 6 so it was all too much for his digestive system.
Sunday 21st August 2011
Had a bit of a lie in today as had a disturbed night. We had breakfast which consisted of frankfurters, khaghapuri with meat filling the size of fish-fingers, cheese and chocolates. We have drinks at the end of the meal and at the moment are drinking peach tea which is very nice as it is not very sweet. Maia then brought out the box of Family Circle biscuits we gave them as a gift which has proved quite a success.
We then escaped to our room. Escape is a harsh word I know but we don’t have a minute to think. Martin slept on the bed and I have been typing this and checking emails. Then we felt guilty so we went into the lounge and Martin and Beso started watching a film. Couldn’t hack that so I slipped away and did some washing and come back and typed and chatted to one of the other TLG teachers. She was a little envious of my trip to the monastery as her host mother had just taken her to the nearby woods and showed her how she cracked hazelnuts with her teeth. Well, maybe you had to hear it first-hand but I just fell about laughing – or maybe hysteria was setting in.
After our mini-break we felt refreshed enough to return to the family fold and had a very nice lunch. The main part was an aubergine and vegetable sauce which went with pasta with a tomato and onion salad, bread and cheese. It’s quite a strange experience to sit there watching and listening to a conversation that you have no clue about what is being said but at the same time know that it is about you. “Batumi, Batumi, Batumi” says Neli, moving her head side to side like a metronome. “Mastsavlebelebi” , “Marshrutka” “Kareli” are words thrown in and we guess they are discussing our impending departure and the arrangements thereof. (Teacher, mini-bus, Kareli) Nino says “You go Batumi eerly mmm 10 or 11 o’clock? We eat go car you mm Kareli” We say yes and the arrangements are fixed that they will drive us to catch the mini-bus in kareli after we have had breakfast at around 10 or 11. Done.
I kind of imagine that the repeated use of Batumi by Neli meant “That’s all I hear about - Batumi, Batumi, Batumi! What’s wrong with these young people of today who are not happy with village life and want to go to these dens of iniquity! In my day if we’d have even said the word Batumi we would have been locked in the cow shed!!” well I do have a fertile imagination haha!
I asked Nino if she would walk with us to Martin’s school so that I could see it as I was asleep the other day when they went. They seem very happy that we want to spend time with them and off we went. WOW is this a commute to envy! Martin has to walk down a long path to reach his school which is in the adjoining village of Zemo Khveduri. The scenery is magnificent.
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| The unmade road will be muddy in winter |
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| Dinner! |
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| What a fab view! |
Once again it is hard to believe that we are here doing this. I want to laugh out loud with pure pleasure. The school is a large one with 300 children and I assume will cover all age groups like my own village school. Not sure what the road will be like in Winter though. Nino said it didn’t snow but agreed that it would be quite muddy. (Demonstration by us of the sequence of flickering fingers coming down, water shushing sounds and squelchy noises and feet stuck in mud) We think we understood each other.
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| First glimpse of Martin's school |
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| The School from a distance |
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| Wow! |
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| Nino and Martin |
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| The School |
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| Martin’s School is between our village and the next one |
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| It has that kind of cell block H feeling |
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| Closer view |
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| We are SO in the countryside haha! |
We carried on into the village which has a different character to our own village. Nino said that the houses didn’t have running water and that they had to use a well, but I think the meaning may have been lost in translation as it was apparent that this village has a few more amenities, such as a tarmac road running through the main part of the village, a basket ball court and a building where singers come. Nino sees the sister-in-law of Irina (our neighbour) and she comes over with her friend and another one, excited by the happening come over a few minutes later. Children are dragged over as well but no-one asked us how old we were but I volunteered the children inventory – we have to start somewhere! We take photos and show them back to them on the camera and everyone laughs and off we go again back home.
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| Some of Martin’s students and of course another cousin from our own village |
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| The commute home - "Bit a of traffic jam Love!" |
For those of you from the East end it was a bit like stepping out of Wessex street and going to the Collingwood Estate, the Whitechapel end of Cambridge Heath Road. It felt like we were out of our manor.
When we got back, Maia was practicing her highway code, which was reassuring that some attempt was made by the government to instil good driving practice, in new drivers. I had been thinking about board games on the way as I had been thinking that maybe we could get some sent over here as it would be good language practice and something to do. In the meantime i thought snakes and ladders would be fairly easy to knock up ourselves with paper and pencils and assumed that they would have heard of this game. Most games I thought were in some form or another throughout the world with different names perhaps, because children are children and always like to play. But they hadn’t and we had a very nice couple of hours making up a board and gluing on snakes and ladders. I could have spent a long while just making the board and stuff as I like all that arty craftsy stuff, but they were content with a few scribbles here and there hahah (Who’s the big Kid!?) Maia had done a lot of the cutting out and was enjoying herself, like me, more than the girls! We had a good time playing the game, but the girls are 15 and 13 and when a group of boys came by they rushed off and me and Maia played a game on our own.
Beso turned up after siring the pig (not personally) and when Maia couldn’t get a 6 threw it for her and much to the amusement of all, he threw a 6 straight off and demonstrated once again the superiority of the male species. Beso called Martin, made driving movements and Martin jumps up grabs his fags and goes and hangs out with the boys dropping off a cousin back to Kareli. I show Maia how to play “Cheeseboxes” and she proves to be quite competitive and fights hard not to relinquish any boxes.
Beso’s Uncle came by and beer consumed and Neli makes Khasi which is like rice pudding but made with milk, sugar and cornmeal but has a hint of toffee so maybe condensed milk is in it somewhere or that’s just the skill of making. The dwindling Family Circle box is brought out too and I think Maia in particular has really enjoyed this gift.
When I was playing snakes and ladders with Maia it kind of comes to me that this is not just about teaching English to the children in the school setting. Maia and Beso and Neli to a lesser extent are all speaking English more and learning words. Maia is learning numbers through the counting out of her turn and enjoyed the stimulation of thinking about how to win at Cheese boxes. I have no idea what it must be like to live in such an intellectually unstimulating environment. Now I may well eat my words at the suggestion they lack mental stimulation when I fully appreciate their culture and I will fully accept my patronising and superior attitude. How would I be if I had been born into this culture instead of England? How much of me would I be? And what is me? I leave you with these philosophical thoughts while I go to bed. Good night x
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