Showing posts with label tlg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tlg. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Teach and Learn in Georgia: Back in Business

A supra in Kardanakhi, Georgia
 
After a hiatus during "regime change," Teach and Learn in Georgia (TLG) is back in business.

Tamar making borshi


Go here for a list of (or links to) blogs by current and past TLGers, packing items, and cultural notes.


Nely holding up her farmlet's green grapes, Kardanakhi, Georgia


Go here for the official TLG page.


Making churchkhela, Georgia


On my right sidebar is a link to a current TLGer - one who started under the old regime and continued under the new, so he may have a unique perspective to offer you.


Tia serving Kinkhali in Rustavi, Georgia


My second favorite Georgian dance video:




And my favorite, Xorumi or Khorumi, performed by Erisioni. Doesn't matter which gender you are, it gets the blood a-movin'.



 


 Ah, what a place.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Nothing There Tour #2: Gardabani, Part 2: Men in Black

This is part 2 of a long-overdue There's Nothing There Tour report. I was in Gardabani in spring 2012. Part 1 is here

Men in black and blue, Gardabani, Georgia


Seeing Georgians in black was nothing new, especially in the winter, when it's the preferred color of dress for both men and women.

But on this Novrus Bayrami celebration in Gardabani, it was so concentrated among the men and boys as to be remarkable.

There was live music, with a cool mix of traditional pop-ballad and hiphop.




I listened to the music, then continued to wander among the booths.



I maintained periodic phone contact with TLG colleague, Lauren, who was en route with Eva and Monica to join me in Gardabani for the festival.

Traditional cookware, Gardabani, Georgia


At various booths where I stopped, I enjoyed a bit of wine or chacha, so I began to have a pleasant little buzz.

The Simpsons in Gardabani, Georgia


At a certain point, I had to find a toilet. The city hall was next door to the park, and I was directed to the public loo inside the building. Yes, incredibly, this was it:

City hall toilet, Gardabani, Georgia


People! It does not require much effort or money to clean a toilet! And this is for your constituents! Have some respect. Jeez. It was almost as bad as the toilet situation I encountered in Ethiopia, between Harar and Nazret, only that latrine hellhole was darker and wetter.

Getting back to the festival .... the official musical line-up ended, and now the boys put on an impromptu dance showdown.

Now, look at this first video. It's only 27 seconds long. I want you to note the tall guy in the back. He's wearing a stocking cap with FBI on the front. His name is Romeo, but I didn't find that out til later. Foreshadowing.




  
Now look at this video, where the boys really get into the competitive spirit.





It was so fun watching the guys dance.

And then the festival was over for real, and my colleagues were almost at the park, but not quite. I felt disappointed they missed the festival, but .....

I found myself talking to an Azeri-Georgian gentleman with the help of an Azeri visitor who spoke English. Young Romeo appeared, as well, listening to the conversation. 

The Azeri-Georgian man, perhaps in his 60s, was inviting me to come to his house ..... and then my colleagues arrived.


To be continued ....


Friday, September 28, 2012

1 and 2 Years Ago Today

Two years ago today, I had just sold my house and was on the cusp of being rootless.

One year ago today, I was spending the evening in the tiny village of Tsalaskuri, near Rustavi, Georgia. I was an English teacher in the Teach and Learn with Georgia program.
 

Back when time was long.
It's funny. When we're really young, it's amazing how many events and experiences we pack into a short period of time. Time seems long, when the cliche "all the time in the world" seems to hold true.

For example, I know one person who, in about 12 months, graduated from law school, clerked for a state Supreme Court judge, studied for and passed her bar exam, got married, bought a house, and had a baby.

As we get older, we pass into a period when things still happen, but it's fewer things happening for a really long time: working at one's career, raising children, maintaining a home, paying down debt, socking money away for the future. Sure, in between there are some extraordinary activity spikes, but otherwise, there are a lot of years where we're focused on arranging the big rocks in our garden. In retrospect, this time speeds by.  





But since I sold my house and went rootless, it's like I've gone back to the just-out-of-school time, when lots of new experiences have happened in a very short time, with more to come. Time is back to being long.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

TLGers in Ethiopia

I am so excited that former TLG colleages, Jennifer and Martin, are in Ethiopia this very moment, volunteer teaching at the English Alive Academy.

Their new blog, The Beels in Ethiopia, is pretty hilarious. And I love reading about the cool stuff they're doing at the English Alive Academy in Nazret.

Reading their experiences and mine just shows again how everyone experiences a country differently. For example, where they had a fabulous time in Lalibela, I had a meltdown. I survived my mullet phase; they survived theirs.


Bates Hotel in Nazret, Ethiopia?

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Georgia: Dance Racha!

Jennifer, a TLG colleage, shared this video with me recently. It's brilliant.

Traditional Racha dance with a modern twist. Really is a happy piece; makes me very glad for my time in Georgia.  




Thursday, June 21, 2012

Georgia: Teaching While Black


"You are being rude to a guest in your country!"


Introduction

As in the U.S. and every other country on the globe, racism exists in Georgia.

I wish Georgia would simply acknowledge this fact, and own it, but just as we do in America, Georgia discounts and dismisses the existence of racism.

In Georgia, the discounting sounds like this:
  • Georgians are curious
  • Because of long-time Soviet rule, Georgians have 'extreme interest' in people different from themselves
  • Georgian is a difficult language, and one might think a Georgian is being offensive when he really isn't

I accept all of the above.

But black teachers in Georgia sometimes experience things that fall squarely in the racism category, and I believe prospective teachers who are black need to know what to expect so they can make an informed decision about coming here.




The universal experience

If you come to Georgia to teach, and you're black, you'll experience what all teachers experience :
  • Great and beautiful times;
  • Kindness, generosity, and hospitality from Georgians; 
  • Home-stay challenges that all teachers encounter in various shapes and sizes; 
  • Freezing in the winter and sweating in the summer; and
  • Teaching pleasures and frustrations.   

In fact, one black colleague told me, "I have never felt like I was anything other than a beautiful princess." 


The black experience

You will frequently be the subject of: 
  • Staring and heads turning as you go by
  • Laughter - sometimes friendly, sometimes mocking
  • Strangers asking for a photo with them and their friends or family (including babies being placed in your arms)
  • Photos being taken of you without your permission

Generally speaking, my colleagues take the above in stride, depending on the perceived tone and friendliness of the folks doing the staring, etc. But there's a cumulative effect, and it does wear over time.

I'm white, and the closest experience I have of this is when I went to Ethiopia - I sometimes felt that I had to put on the armor before I went out, because I was always the person who looked and sounded different, always prompting attention - and some days I just didn't want to have to do that. It didn't matter that the attention was benign.

Black teachers in Georgia have also experienced the following: 
  • Referred to as 'monkey' or 'gorilla;'
  • Referred to as 'nigger' and 'zangi' (more on these words below)
  • Sexual harassment in public venues and circumstances, e.g. from a pharmacist, in front of other customers, while buying medication. Sexual harassment is not exclusive to black teachers by any means, but it seems to be more public or more aggressive with my black colleagues.
  • Physical intimidation


One white colleague who looked Georgian, but is not, received derisive comments from Georgian men when she walked with a black colleague. The Georgian men presume she is a Georgian woman in a romantic relationship with the black teacher.

Some of my white colleagues have heard their English-speaking, Georgian acquaintances share their prejudices about people who are black.

Some host families specify they don't want black teachers.

The darker a teacher's complexion, the more frequent and intense is the attention from Georgians.

Surprisingly, black teachers tend to experience more intense behaviors in the large cities than the towns and villages. 


'Zangi' and 'nigger'

When I first heard a Georgian (a woman in her 20s) use the word 'nigger' (within 3 weeks of my arrival in Georgia), I was shocked. When I asked her about it, she said it was simply how Georgians pronounce the word for the country of Nigeria, and that they tended to refer to all black people as from Nigeria ... 'nee-gare." Then a week later, when I heard a man in his 20s say the same word when a black university student walked by us on the street, I asked him about it. He said, oh, it's from the Russian word for black. Another person told me it was the Georgian pronunciation/twist on 'negro.' Later, it was explained to me that Georgians use it because of the rap songs they listen to. Note that I didn't initiate any of these conversations - I heard Georgians use this word when referring to black students or tourists.


The word 'zangi' is a puzzle. On one hand, English speakers are told it doesn't mean anything derogatory. On the other hand, we're sometimes told it means 'nigger,' which, if any of the above explanations are true, it isn't a derogatory word.  

Despite the protestations, though, there is something - difficult to put one's finger on, that has to do with the tone of voice, who says it (such as adolescent, smart-ass boys), the circumstances - that smacks of malignancy in 'zangi.'

The common denominator of all of the above is the universal claim there is nothing malicious meant by either of the words.  In a culture where it's OK to refer to students as 'stupid' and 'lazy,' maybe this is true in an inside-out, Daliesque way. 

Not all black teachers will hear both words. For example, one of my colleagues of color never heard the word 'nigger' during her entire year in Georgia, while for a period, it seemed I heard it used every few days. 

 

Should I come to Georgia if I'm black?

Georgia, at times, is an intense and surprising place for everyone, and stuff related to complexion is just one variable among many.

Only you know if you should come to Georgia.

I recommend that you seek out past and current teachers of color in Georgia and ask them about their experiences.

I think you'll find there's a continuum of negative experiences (from severe to mild) and the way teachers responded to those experiences. Some teachers experience only occasional annoyances while others are the subject of quite troubling incidents.


If you come: Strategies

If you do come - with your eyes open - then I suggest these strategies:

Don't suffer in silence! Let jerks know, in the moment, that you will not tolerate their rude behavior. One of my colleagues asked her hostess to write the note pictured at the top of this post.  Her experience was that when she called people on their behavior (in her case, it was mostly adolescent boys in a group), nearby Georgians supported her, either by chastising the offenders themselves - after she did so - or by letting her know they agreed with her response. Georgians respect strong people.

Report all incidents to TLG even if you don't expect/want TLG to do anything about them. The point is for TLG to get a realistic picture of how often black teachers experience negative, race-related attention. Currently, TLG's official position seems to be that racism does not exist in Georgia. 

If you do expect TLG to do something, be clear about what you want. For the most part, TLG is helpful. But if you think, for example, your regional representative is ineffective, go over her head and talk to "corporate" in Tbilisi. And if that person doesn't take you seriously, go up the line. Be persistent.

Don't isolate yourself - grab on to a buddy to share your experiences with. That person can help you keep things in perspective, to laugh, and also to tell you when to take things seriously and do something about it.



If you decide to come, I hope you have a grand adventure! Georgia has a lot to offer - and most Georgians feel embarrassed when they hear about the bad behaviors of some of their fellow citizens.




Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Georgia: A Leaving Ritual


When we arrived in Georgia, TLG gave us Nokia cell phones.

My TLG Nokia phone


Over the past year, I've accumulated a fair number of phone numbers - TLG colleagues, TLG staff, police students, host family members, and neighbors.

As my TLG colleagues leave Georgia, I delete them from my phone's contact list.

It's a tidy little ritual of closure.




Thursday, June 7, 2012

Kazbegi

Road to Kazbegi. Georgia.

TLG offered an excursion (free!) to Kazbegi, and Sandy and I jumped on that offer.

We and 20 or so other TLGers met at the Radisson Blu in Tbilisi and we took off in the TLG minibus. It was nice to reconnect with some interesting colleagues I'd only met once or twice before and also to meet some new folks. It was another opportunity to appreciate the originality of the people who come to Georgia to teach.

I'll skip over the side trip to a certain historic church (zzzzzz) and go to the road to Kazbegi, now reverted to its original name Stepantsminda, which means St. Stephen's Mountain.

There is a village named Kazbegi and a mountain named Kazbegi (well, Stepantsminda). But what many souls climb is the mountain that has the church on top, which is what our little group did.

Kazbegi, Georgia.


Well, I climbed halfway up.

The good thing was that at my slower pace, I had the pleasure of a solo hike walking as fast or as slow as I wished. It was nice.

Kazbegi, Georgia.


At one point, I was reminded of my hike in the Bale Mountains, Ethiopia  - not because the scenery was all that similar, but there was something about the lay of the land. Made me think of that battle of the bulls in a pasture far below.


Kazbegi, Georgia.


There were fairly long stretches where I was entirely alone. Other times, I intersected with other hikers coming at the mountain from different angles.

Kazbegi, Georgia.


On my way back down, I spied a shepherd and his flock in the woods.


Kazbegi, Georgia.


I attempted a wilderpee in a pretty forest copse, only to be foiled by oncoming hikers. So I scrambled myself together and took a photo instead.

Kazbegi, Georgia.


 My favorite part of coming back down - the dancing Georgian!




And full slide show of Kazbegi photos here:


Kazbegi, Caucasus Georgia

So I eventually made my way back to the village, in search of a toilet. Walked across the main drag to a cafe, and through the window, I saw a movement. It was Walter and Tom, two of the excursion mates, waving to me. Wah!? How was this possible? I knew from Sandy's telephone report that the rest of the group were still atop the church mountain, so ... did these guys not do the climb or what?

No! They had slid/run down the mountain, via one of the straight-shot paths, in about 15 minutes! Incredible. They were each drinking a beer and awaiting their order of khinkali.

The rest of the group didn't arrive til about 45 minutes later.

Sleepy ride home.

Friday, May 25, 2012

Georgia's Secret City

Rustavi, Georgia. Arishi Ruins.


This post originally appeared in TLG's official blog, Making a Difference. I couldn't include photos, so I've added them here. 


The city is very old, but most Georgians don’t know that.

It has been destroyed, reborn, destroyed, reborn, and destroyed and reborn again.

In the city’s lone, mostly unknown, museum, lie the plaster-cast remains of a girl. Centuries ago, she died at her doorway, a weapon in her hand, while she attempted to defend her family from invaders.

There are archeological treasures buried beneath the city, but there’s no money to retrieve them.

A thousand-year old fortress stands guard over a man-made lake that feeds into the River Mtkvari.

Rustavi, Georgia. Fortress ruins.


In the spring, the steppes surrounding the city wear a grassy cover draped like the folds of a toga.  Ivory herds of sheep move up and down the steppes and in the floodplain around the city.

A wide, straight boulevard runs through the city, its name changing from Shatava to Megobroba to Kostava at each of three important city sections. There are numerous parks – small, medium, and large – distributed throughout the city. An improbable amusement park with bumper cars is stashed behind modern glass public-service buildings.

Rustavi, Georgia.



The city is so like the country at large – a place of contrasts. It is ugly and beautiful. It is old and new. It has a large population, but possesses a village sensibility.  There is birth here and there is decay. It is a Cinderella city, full of hidden loveliness, but maligned by residents and outsiders alike.

Rustavi, Georgia. New Rustavi.


In the time of Stalin, the city was an international center, populated by men and women from all over the Soviet Union. In this time, one of the city’s heydays, it was a planned community. Workers lived in gracious flats. Each type of worker had his own health clinic, hospital, and health resort.

There was a grand theater.
 
Rustavi, Georgia. Theater, Pirosmani Street.



Rustavi, Georgia. Youth Park. Remains of a zoo.





A large park housed a zoo, another theater, botanical gardens.













Buildings were designed in the [Stalinist] Empire style, graceful and classic. Trees lined wide streets.


Rustavi, Georgia. Donatsmetalurgi Street.





Rustavi, Georgia.
In the 1970s, on the other side of the river, there was a demand for a lot of housing very fast. So hundreds of block apartments shot up, vertical micro-villages for workers streaming in from Georgia’s countryside and beyond.  Less outwardly beautiful than its older sister across the river, this new addition to the city boasted an internal beauty in the camaraderie of the neighbors.








Rustavi, Georgia. Farmlet in New Rustavi.
Some inhabitants recreated small bits of their villages in the form of pocket farms with tiny orchards, vegetable gardens, and chickens.

















When the Abkhazian refugees came, they brought only their memories of a gorgeous land, as most had to flee with what they wore on their backs and nothing more.


Rustavi, Georgia. Miniature church. Shatava Street.
One Abkhazian husband and wife who settled in the not-so-beautiful part of this city recreated a bit of paradise by transforming their block apartment yard into a botanical garden, then building in that yard a petite church, and then in an empty lot next door, creating a tiny fountain park with a tiled pool stocked with fish. In the midst of ugliness, then, an island of beauty, shared with all.
















Many people know there’s a new part of this city and an old part. But even life-long residents forget about the third part of the city – its vibrant city of the dead. The city’s massive cemetery, which includes both Christian and Muslim sections, is located on a bluff that overlooks the River Mtkvari valley with views of both the old and new parts of the living city. There’s also a view of an Azeri-Georgian village.

Rustavi, Georgia. Cemetery.




Rustavi, Georgia. Cemetery.
For good or ill, the engraved photographic images of the dead create the sense of a city populated with men and women (and, alas, children) who smile, laugh, drink, smoke, and ponder into perpetuity. Cement picnic tables, trees, flowers, and arbors welcome loved ones still living.

















Would-be travelers often ask if a place is “worth” visiting. About Rustavi, I say: For more than a day, right now, no. Maybe in the future. But for one day? Yes!  It’s a worthwhile destination for cyclists (the land is flat – and you can cycle to Azerbaijan from here), architecture lovers, photographers, and historians. It’s a very walkable city. There may be more restaurants per capita here than anywhere in Georgia.


To get to Rustavi from Tbilisi: Pick up a marshrutka in any one of a number of spots, such as Station Square, Didube, by the Polytechnic University, or Samgori. Cost = 1 lari, 30 tetri. Time = 40 minutes.

You’ll enter New Rustavi first, where masses of block apartments rise eerily from the river plain. Get off here if you wish, but I recommend starting your visit in Old Rustavi, which means you’ll continue on the main boulevard until it crosses the river. Get off at the ‘meria,’ the main plaza in front of the city hall.

Some sights to see:
  • Old Rustavi:  The Youth Park, which is along the River Mtkvari and which is home to the ancient fortress and the remains of a zoo
  • Old Rustavi: Metallurgical Factory building at the end of the boulevard
  • Old Rustavi: Rustavi’s History Museum
  • Old Rustavi: A meandering walking tour to look at the Stalinist-era Empire buildings, many falling slowly (and beautifully) into a patina-ed decay
  • New Rustavi: On Shatava Street (main boulevard before you get to the Rustaveli roundabout) – the miniature church and park built by the Abhkazian couple
  • New Rustavi: Amusement park behind the glass public-service buildings that are on Megobroba Street (main boulevard after the Rustaveli roundabout)
  • New Rustavi: Brand new car race track before you enter Rustavi proper, in the auto bazaar area
  • New Rustavi: Hike up the steppes to the enormous cross
  • Between Old and New Rustavi: Walk along the marshes near the river bridge, following the railroad tracks
  • Cemetery: At the Old Bazaar in Old Rustavi, take marshrutka #15, which will take you past the cemetery. (This marshrutka also goes to Samgori station in Tbilisi via an Azeri-Georgian village)

Rustavi, Georgia. Metallurgical Factory.



Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Svaneti, Part 3: Road to Mestia

Svaneti: Road to Mestia


When we hopped off the train, there was Sparrow. She and I had been communicating for the past hour via phone, so she knew when we were to arrive and had lassoed us a marshrutka for the next leg of our trip.

Side note: Sandy, Sparrow, and I are with TLG (Teach and Learn with Georgia). Now that I've been in Georgia awhile, it's easy to take for granted the phones we received from TLG when we began our tenures. We can call any other TLGer or TLG staff at no charge. Being in a foreign country, having this phone is a real benefit. Yup, we pay to fill up the prepay accounts, but it's still a tremendous value.

... and off were on our 2.5 or 3-hour drive to Mestia, the best-known town in Svaneti. We paid 20 lari per person for this private charter.

I'll be quiet now and let the photos tell the story of our drive:


Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Georgia: What Does It Mean?

A conversation between my colleague, Sandy, and a co-teacher, "Gwantsa":

Sandy to Gwantsa: "Ras nish navs"? What does it mean? 

Gwantsa: What does it mean?

Sandy: Yes, what does it mean?

Gwantsa: What does it mean?

Sandy: Yes, what does it mean? 

Gwantsa: What does it mean!

Sandy: No, what does it mean!?

Gwantsa: What does it mean!

Sandy: Ohhhhhh.


 

Monday, April 16, 2012

Georgia: The Earring


I got together with a group of TLG colleagues in Tbilisi awhile back.

We vented about living with host families, school problems, poor customer service, sex discrimination, the winter cold, the dearth of showering opportunities ... the usual expat bitching.

On my way home to Rustavi, I climbed aboard a packed marshrutka, lucking into the very last space. It was a pull-down seat almost smack against the sliding door. As I squished my backpack into the space between me and the seat in front of me, I heard a tinkling metallic sound to my right. Something had fallen. Within my tight quarters, I did a body and pack check --  keys? coins? what? Oh, I thought, as I put my hand to my right ear, an earring fell off.

It had fallen onto the running board alongside the marshrutka's sliding passenger door. I could barely see it if I carefully looked down on my right, as if peering into a narrow crevasse. Damn it.

As I contemplated retrieval strategies, a man behind me called out gamicheret, indicating the driver should stop the marshrutka. I slid open the door and prepared to stand up, close my jumpseat, then step out of the van to allow room for the man to get off the vehicle. But he motioned to me to stay put.

While 20 cramped humans waited in silence, the man reached down, picked up my earring, and handed it to me.

And we took off again for Rustavi.

Georgia.  So exasperating at times, and so charming.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Armenia: "There's Nothing There"

I'm not in Armenia yet - will go next weekend.

But when I shared my upcoming trip with my adult students, they said, "Why are you going to Armenia? There's nothing there?!" Out of approximately 20 students, only one had ever actually been to Armenia - once. Another had even worked on the BORDER between Georgia and Armenia, and had never been. And another THOUGHT she'd been to Armenia, but remembered that, no, that was Azerbaijan.

I have heard this kind of talk before from Georgians (and TLGers) about other places in Georgia. At a meeting with TLG bloggers last week, a colleague and I talked about instituting a "Nothing There" tour, where we visit nothing-there locations in Georgia and either confirm or deny the allegations. 

Notwithstanding the upcoming trip to Armenia, which I'm sure has one or two things of interest, my first nothing-there tour will be to Gardabani.

So stay tuned.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Rustavi: Food Poisoning

Credit: Food Poisoning Symptoms Info


This morning, I called T, one of my police students, to let her know I'd be unable to be in class today.

It was an opportunity to increase her English vocabulary with the words diarrhea and vomiting.

Last night, I was struck with food poisoning, a first for me. Cramping stomach, diarrhea, nausea and then vomiting, shivering with cold even though I curled up under two duvets, embracing my hot water bottle. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

During my many sojourns to the bathroom, while shivering and clutching my abdomen, I reflected on:
  • Yesterday's conversation with Justina, a TLG colleague, about the courseness or fineness of Georgian toilet paper. I felt grateful that the 55-tetri toilet paper was on hand versus the 30-tetri product.
  • The experience of another TLG colleague, Hannah, who had to flick ice off of the toilet seat in her host family's house before using it.
  • And, thank God, I had an inside toilet to use, instead of traipsing through a frigid yard to a frigid outhouse. I cannot even imagine it. I think I would have had to find a bucket in that situation.

With morning came some relief, but I stayed in bed til about 3:00 p.m. 

The idea of ingesting the local cure, chacha with some salt, made me grimace this afternoon, but I may take a shot of same before I go to bed tonight.



Monday, February 13, 2012

Teaching Police versus Children



A child student excuses himself from class: I have to go to the bathroom.

A police officer student excuses himself from class: We just caught a killer.




One hopes the student washes his hands before returning to class.




Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Georgia: Yin and Yang

This is what I envisioned when I signed up for Georgia:

Upper Svaneti Pictures
This photo of Upper Svaneti is courtesy of TripAdvisor




This is also Georgia:

Old Bazaar in Old Rustavi on a dreary, slushy, cold, dismal day in January.


Monday, January 30, 2012

Georgia: Myths and Facts #1

In the winter, do you really wear your coat, hat, and gloves in the classroom when you teach?

Yes, by God.


Inner courtyard of school, Rustavi, Georgia

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Looking Beyond Georgia: New Plan A

My original Plan A was to be a 2012 Teach for America corps member. Alas, I did not make the final cut, so my Plan B moves up to be my new Plan A.


My new Plan A starts off with travel. When my contract Teach and Learn With Georgia ends in June, I can delay my return flight for up to a month. I'll take advantage of that and travel around Eurasia-ish for a few weeks, and then on the way home, I'll take an extended layover in Istanbul.

When I return to Missouri at the end of July, I have a couple of projects to complete, which will take about six weeks.

And then? I've got two Plan A tracks:
  • Go to Mexico or Central America and knock on doors for a teaching gig; or
  • Find an ESL teaching position in the U.S. Southwest. 

Or lucky me, I might do something entirely different. 

Whatever new place I land, I'm looking forward to my own place, rootless thought it may be. I have been supremely fortunate in the graciousness of my Rustavi host families (and, for that matter, my Missouri hostesses), but it will be good to have my own little cave again.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Back to Georgia: Packing Again 2

Yesterday, I weighed the children's books.

Today I realized, most aren't going to make it. Too much weight.

They'll find new homes just as good.

Packing is brutal.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Books, Books, Books

I hit the motherlode of children's books at the Jefferson City Salvation Army Thrift Store today. I'll add these to my more modest stash from Goodwill that I bought last week. They're for "my" public school in Rustavi, Kvemo Kartli, Georgia.

The school library, meager by any measure, has a tiny collection of English-language books. I'm hoping I'll be bringing enough so entire classes can have individual reading time or small-group reading time. My focus is on elementary-level English.

But speaking of books, and thinking also about English Alive Academy in Nazret, Ethiopia, it's possible to buy a gift certificate for the Ethiopian school at Better World Books. This company will email you the gift certificate, which you can then email to Stephanie and Dawit at English Alive Academy here. (Email address on right sidebar of the EAA blog.) They'll be able to select the books and related materials they need most ... and shipping is free!