... the final update video.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Victory for Georgia!
They lost the war with Russia, but they won some blankets. It's poor compensation but at least somewhat better than losing a war and being cold.
As you may have gathered from my tone two posts ago, I was recently feeling somewhat despondent about this project's chances of successful completion. Sensing my despondency, Blankets for Georgia donor and supporter Kristen Chocheli and her husband Niko put me in touch with the American Red Cross. Here are some magical facts that I learned that day:
Magical Fact #1: The American Red Cross was also running a Blankets for Georgia drive and would soon be shipping those blankets overseas.
Magical Fact #2: They had recently upgraded from a 20' to a 40' crate and had some extra space that they were willing to offer for our little project.
Magical Fact #3: A member of their project was the owner of a shipping company who would ship the crate to Georgia regardless of the fact that other shippers told me recently that no commercial shippers are going to Georgia in the wake of the war.
Magical Fact #4: The crate was shipping from Baltimore, which is a mere 2-hour drive from where the boxes were stored.
I can't begin to describe the serendipity/hand of God behind this. Why would the boxes be shipped from somewhere so close to where I lived? Why did their project end just as my free storage was two weeks from running out and thus necessitating the redistribution of the donations?
Like I said-- magic.
In any case, we packed up the boxes on the day after Christmas and drove them to the warehouse in a U-Haul truck that was rented to us for free by a local business owner (see acknowledgments at the end of this post). All the boxes are now on pallets and wrapped in plastic in a crate, and they should be on their way to Georgia by early January and will arrive 4 weeks later.
The project money has found a good home, as well. Since the Georgia Red Cross will be handling the transportation of logistics inside Georgia, they will receive all the project money, $2600 after expenses. In exchange, they will make sure the boxes from this project wind up at the NGO I designated them for-- CHF International, who will distribute the boxes to villages around the town of Gori-- and the rest of the money will go to defray their costs in distributing the remaining Red Cross blankets to needy Georgian families.
All in all, a happy ending. And this happy ending was brought to you by...
- Mike Hewitt
Hewitt's Service Center in Lexington Park, MD
Mike Hewitt is the man who donated the U-Haul truck for our usage on December 26th. Although we went vastly over the allotted mileage and ended up racking up a $260 rental charge, he comped all of it in the name of charity. Thank you, Mike.
- John Boyd
The Shipping Store in Wildewood Shopping Center
John Boyd owns the first business that donated to the project, and I don't know where we would be if he hadn't been so generous. He provided, free of charge, 41 new cardboard boxes with a total value of over $300, and to boot, he drove them to our house. Thank you, John.
- John Charles
Security Storage in Hollywood, MD
John Charles is the manager of the storage facility that provided three months of storage for the project boxes at a rate of $1/month (in a unit that is approx $100/month at market value). Even as the shipping process dragged on indefinitely, he arranged with the owners to allow the boxes to stay in their storage unit for an extra month above and beyond what they promised, and that saved the project. Thank you, John.
- Mark Dale
Pro Fitness Gym in Wildewood Shopping Center
Mark Dale not only allowed me to place a donation drop-off box in his gym, he also pestered his clients and anyone who walked through the door that they should donate blankets and clothes to our cause. Every time I saw that box, it was overflowing. Thank you, Mark.
- Norm Scofield
Shoppers Food Warehouse in San Souci Plaza
Norm Scofield allowed me to place a donation drop-off box in the entrance of the Shoppers that he manages even though that act bends the rules of company policy. I hope I'm not getting him in trouble by saying that. Thank you, Norm.
- Lisa Erdeljon & Mrs. Erdeljon
Northern Virginia
Lisa Erdeljon, a former Georgia volunteer, and her mother held their own drive in northern Virginia and then drove a van full of donations all the way to our storage facility in southern Maryland in time for our boxing party. They brought extra cardboard boxes with them, and the quality and quantity of their donations were fantastic. They stayed for hours packing boxes with us, and when it was all over, they drove all the way back to northern Virginia. Thanks, Lisa & Lisa's mom.
- Barbara Stanley, Rev. Mike Jones & the Pax Pres Outreach Committee
Patuxent Presbyterian Church in California, MD
Barbara Stanley coordinated the placement of a donation drop-off box in the church and promoted the project in the church bulletin. Rev. Jones actively supported the project and announced it during services, and the Outreach committee made a substantial contribution toward the shipping fund. Thanks so much to all of you.
- American Red Cross
Baltimore, MD
Without your help, these blankets would be rotting in a storage unit in southern Maryland until eternity. Thanks so much to Alan Friedman for coordinating, Jock Menzies for shipping, and Ed Gregg for packing. Double thanks for receiving the boxes on the day after Christmas so I could get back to work on Monday.
- Chris Haitz
CEVA Logistics in Torranca, CA
Chris Haitz is a former Georgia volunteer from my group who worked very hard for months to get his employer to carry the blankets to Georgia via freight. While the Red Cross opportunity presented itself before we could work anything out, I still appreciate all the work he did to try and help the project. Thank you, Chris.
- All the project coordinators at the schools
St. Mary's County Public Schools
Many people at Esperanza, Great Mills, Leonardtown, Hollywood, and Spring Ridge were involved in storing blankets, creating publicity, and encouraging students to participate in this project. Special thanks to Jackie Orr, Connie Garvin, Peggy Erdolino, Mrs. Long at Hollywood, Brenda Hecker, and Mike Sturgess.
- Former Georgia Volunteers
Various American and Georgian locales
Not only did Georgia Peace Corps volunteers turn out en masse to donate funds to the project, a select few who had returned to Georgia to work also played an invaluable role in coordinating the logistics of the arrival of the blankets. A million bazillion thanks to Johanna Holtan, Brian Halusan & CHF International, and Ruth Decalo. I feel like I'm missing somebody... please remind me if I did.
- Kristen & Niko Chocheli
Pennsylvania
Kristen and Niko sent frequent emails to keep up with the progress of the project. They were the only donors to mail in clothing donations from outside the southern Maryland area, and they also contributed to the shipping fund. They were full of ideas on how I could promote the project and what organizations I could contact, and in the end, they saved the project by putting me in touch with the American Red Cross. Thank you, Kristen and Niko; this project would have definitely failed without your help.
- Lela Termakozashvili
Kheltubani, Georgia
Lela was my only Georgian contact at the beginning of the project. She went on fact-finding expeditions back in September to identify what people needed and where those people were. This project would not, in fact, be "Blankets for Georgia" without Lela. Gmadlobt, Lela!
- The Donors
Everywhere
People donated money to this project in all different amounts and at different points on the timeline. Every little bit helped, and you all should be so proud that your money will be paying for the distribution of blankets and coats by the Georgian Red Cross during the dead of winter. Thank you!
And last but not least...
- Casey McFann
My mom a.k.a. host of "Living Fit with Casey" on channel 10 and YouTube
Mom was the secret backbone of this project. All of the driving for the project, excluding the final drive to the warehouse, was done either by her or in her car by me. Over the course of 3 weeks, she visited all the drop-off points several times in her Toyota Camry to cram as much stuff as she could into the car, and then she shuttled it to the storage unit. She also completed a large amount of the packing and cataloging of the donations by herself when I was sidelined by surgery in mid-October (surprise!). She helped publicize the project, and she edited all the YouTube video updates that this project has produced. She was the first person to think that this project was a good idea, and it wouldn't have been started at all without her encouragement, and possibly her growing concern that I was sitting around unemployed all day every day. Thanks, Mom. I love you!
- Bill McFann
My dad a.k.a. president of Island Engineering in Piney Point, MD
Dad was a big support when aspects of the project grew too overwhelming for me to handle alone. When I had spent weeks negotiating with a shipping company to no avail, Dad used his industry contacts to locate other options-- it was his contacts who informed me that commercial shipments were not going to Georgia, and that was vital information to me. Dad also applied his brilliant engineering mind to the task of packing the boxes into the storage unit and onto the truck and to developing a maximum-efficiency assembly line system as we attempted to sort the mountains of tangled blankets and coats into boxes; he brought along his girlfriend Judy to our box-packing party and they spent hours of their Saturday at that task. At the very end, he even put me in contact with his friend Mike Hewitt (see the first entry in the credits section). Thank you, Dad and Judy. Love you too!
We'll close with the last vision of the boxes as they left St. Mary's County, MD. Pictured are Judy, Dad, me, Mom, and my helpful friend Kim. She and my sister Sara helped pack and did much to keep me from crashing the 14' rental truck into oncoming traffic or parked cars. Thanks, ladies.
As you may have gathered from my tone two posts ago, I was recently feeling somewhat despondent about this project's chances of successful completion. Sensing my despondency, Blankets for Georgia donor and supporter Kristen Chocheli and her husband Niko put me in touch with the American Red Cross. Here are some magical facts that I learned that day:
Magical Fact #1: The American Red Cross was also running a Blankets for Georgia drive and would soon be shipping those blankets overseas.
Magical Fact #2: They had recently upgraded from a 20' to a 40' crate and had some extra space that they were willing to offer for our little project.
Magical Fact #3: A member of their project was the owner of a shipping company who would ship the crate to Georgia regardless of the fact that other shippers told me recently that no commercial shippers are going to Georgia in the wake of the war.
Magical Fact #4: The crate was shipping from Baltimore, which is a mere 2-hour drive from where the boxes were stored.
I can't begin to describe the serendipity/hand of God behind this. Why would the boxes be shipped from somewhere so close to where I lived? Why did their project end just as my free storage was two weeks from running out and thus necessitating the redistribution of the donations?
Like I said-- magic.
In any case, we packed up the boxes on the day after Christmas and drove them to the warehouse in a U-Haul truck that was rented to us for free by a local business owner (see acknowledgments at the end of this post). All the boxes are now on pallets and wrapped in plastic in a crate, and they should be on their way to Georgia by early January and will arrive 4 weeks later.
The project money has found a good home, as well. Since the Georgia Red Cross will be handling the transportation of logistics inside Georgia, they will receive all the project money, $2600 after expenses. In exchange, they will make sure the boxes from this project wind up at the NGO I designated them for-- CHF International, who will distribute the boxes to villages around the town of Gori-- and the rest of the money will go to defray their costs in distributing the remaining Red Cross blankets to needy Georgian families.
All in all, a happy ending. And this happy ending was brought to you by...
- Mike Hewitt
Hewitt's Service Center in Lexington Park, MD
Mike Hewitt is the man who donated the U-Haul truck for our usage on December 26th. Although we went vastly over the allotted mileage and ended up racking up a $260 rental charge, he comped all of it in the name of charity. Thank you, Mike.
- John Boyd
The Shipping Store in Wildewood Shopping Center
John Boyd owns the first business that donated to the project, and I don't know where we would be if he hadn't been so generous. He provided, free of charge, 41 new cardboard boxes with a total value of over $300, and to boot, he drove them to our house. Thank you, John.
- John Charles
Security Storage in Hollywood, MD
John Charles is the manager of the storage facility that provided three months of storage for the project boxes at a rate of $1/month (in a unit that is approx $100/month at market value). Even as the shipping process dragged on indefinitely, he arranged with the owners to allow the boxes to stay in their storage unit for an extra month above and beyond what they promised, and that saved the project. Thank you, John.
- Mark Dale
Pro Fitness Gym in Wildewood Shopping Center
Mark Dale not only allowed me to place a donation drop-off box in his gym, he also pestered his clients and anyone who walked through the door that they should donate blankets and clothes to our cause. Every time I saw that box, it was overflowing. Thank you, Mark.
- Norm Scofield
Shoppers Food Warehouse in San Souci Plaza
Norm Scofield allowed me to place a donation drop-off box in the entrance of the Shoppers that he manages even though that act bends the rules of company policy. I hope I'm not getting him in trouble by saying that. Thank you, Norm.
- Lisa Erdeljon & Mrs. Erdeljon
Northern Virginia
Lisa Erdeljon, a former Georgia volunteer, and her mother held their own drive in northern Virginia and then drove a van full of donations all the way to our storage facility in southern Maryland in time for our boxing party. They brought extra cardboard boxes with them, and the quality and quantity of their donations were fantastic. They stayed for hours packing boxes with us, and when it was all over, they drove all the way back to northern Virginia. Thanks, Lisa & Lisa's mom.
- Barbara Stanley, Rev. Mike Jones & the Pax Pres Outreach Committee
Patuxent Presbyterian Church in California, MD
Barbara Stanley coordinated the placement of a donation drop-off box in the church and promoted the project in the church bulletin. Rev. Jones actively supported the project and announced it during services, and the Outreach committee made a substantial contribution toward the shipping fund. Thanks so much to all of you.
- American Red Cross
Baltimore, MD
Without your help, these blankets would be rotting in a storage unit in southern Maryland until eternity. Thanks so much to Alan Friedman for coordinating, Jock Menzies for shipping, and Ed Gregg for packing. Double thanks for receiving the boxes on the day after Christmas so I could get back to work on Monday.
- Chris Haitz
CEVA Logistics in Torranca, CA
Chris Haitz is a former Georgia volunteer from my group who worked very hard for months to get his employer to carry the blankets to Georgia via freight. While the Red Cross opportunity presented itself before we could work anything out, I still appreciate all the work he did to try and help the project. Thank you, Chris.
- All the project coordinators at the schools
St. Mary's County Public Schools
Many people at Esperanza, Great Mills, Leonardtown, Hollywood, and Spring Ridge were involved in storing blankets, creating publicity, and encouraging students to participate in this project. Special thanks to Jackie Orr, Connie Garvin, Peggy Erdolino, Mrs. Long at Hollywood, Brenda Hecker, and Mike Sturgess.
- Former Georgia Volunteers
Various American and Georgian locales
Not only did Georgia Peace Corps volunteers turn out en masse to donate funds to the project, a select few who had returned to Georgia to work also played an invaluable role in coordinating the logistics of the arrival of the blankets. A million bazillion thanks to Johanna Holtan, Brian Halusan & CHF International, and Ruth Decalo. I feel like I'm missing somebody... please remind me if I did.
- Kristen & Niko Chocheli
Pennsylvania
Kristen and Niko sent frequent emails to keep up with the progress of the project. They were the only donors to mail in clothing donations from outside the southern Maryland area, and they also contributed to the shipping fund. They were full of ideas on how I could promote the project and what organizations I could contact, and in the end, they saved the project by putting me in touch with the American Red Cross. Thank you, Kristen and Niko; this project would have definitely failed without your help.
- Lela Termakozashvili
Kheltubani, Georgia
Lela was my only Georgian contact at the beginning of the project. She went on fact-finding expeditions back in September to identify what people needed and where those people were. This project would not, in fact, be "Blankets for Georgia" without Lela. Gmadlobt, Lela!
- The Donors
Everywhere
People donated money to this project in all different amounts and at different points on the timeline. Every little bit helped, and you all should be so proud that your money will be paying for the distribution of blankets and coats by the Georgian Red Cross during the dead of winter. Thank you!
And last but not least...
- Casey McFann
My mom a.k.a. host of "Living Fit with Casey" on channel 10 and YouTube
Mom was the secret backbone of this project. All of the driving for the project, excluding the final drive to the warehouse, was done either by her or in her car by me. Over the course of 3 weeks, she visited all the drop-off points several times in her Toyota Camry to cram as much stuff as she could into the car, and then she shuttled it to the storage unit. She also completed a large amount of the packing and cataloging of the donations by herself when I was sidelined by surgery in mid-October (surprise!). She helped publicize the project, and she edited all the YouTube video updates that this project has produced. She was the first person to think that this project was a good idea, and it wouldn't have been started at all without her encouragement, and possibly her growing concern that I was sitting around unemployed all day every day. Thanks, Mom. I love you!
- Bill McFann
My dad a.k.a. president of Island Engineering in Piney Point, MD
Dad was a big support when aspects of the project grew too overwhelming for me to handle alone. When I had spent weeks negotiating with a shipping company to no avail, Dad used his industry contacts to locate other options-- it was his contacts who informed me that commercial shipments were not going to Georgia, and that was vital information to me. Dad also applied his brilliant engineering mind to the task of packing the boxes into the storage unit and onto the truck and to developing a maximum-efficiency assembly line system as we attempted to sort the mountains of tangled blankets and coats into boxes; he brought along his girlfriend Judy to our box-packing party and they spent hours of their Saturday at that task. At the very end, he even put me in contact with his friend Mike Hewitt (see the first entry in the credits section). Thank you, Dad and Judy. Love you too!
We'll close with the last vision of the boxes as they left St. Mary's County, MD. Pictured are Judy, Dad, me, Mom, and my helpful friend Kim. She and my sister Sara helped pack and did much to keep me from crashing the 14' rental truck into oncoming traffic or parked cars. Thanks, ladies.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wishin'... and Hopin'...
We may have a breakthrough. I won't put up details about it until it's finalized, since nobody else deserves to be let down by shipping arrangements except for me... but there may be blanket-based glory ahead of us in Baltimore...
I shall say no more.
I shall say no more.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Whither Blankets?
I, too, am upset that I haven't had anything to post here in over a month. Every day that ticks by on the calendar ratchets up my frustration and fear of impending failure by just a smidgen. I think the following article explains everything:
http://www.thebaynet.com/news/index.cfm/fa/viewstory/story_ID/11270
Just to clarify what the article said, there is a back-up plan in place, but it's not the greatest solution-- at the end of this month, I'll take the $3000 and use it to ship as many of the boxes as I can via USPS, and those will be distributed to needy families by an NGO in central Georgia. I estimate that I can only send 20-25 boxes this way due to financial restraints, so the remaining donations would have to go to local charities.
Well, there's an idea... contact me if you want to sponsor a box. I'll send it overseas in your name, how's that?
http://www.thebaynet.com/news/index.cfm/fa/viewstory/story_ID/11270
Just to clarify what the article said, there is a back-up plan in place, but it's not the greatest solution-- at the end of this month, I'll take the $3000 and use it to ship as many of the boxes as I can via USPS, and those will be distributed to needy families by an NGO in central Georgia. I estimate that I can only send 20-25 boxes this way due to financial restraints, so the remaining donations would have to go to local charities.
Well, there's an idea... contact me if you want to sponsor a box. I'll send it overseas in your name, how's that?
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Stats
Why are you here when you could be watching the election returns? Well since you're looking, may as well throw some Blankets for Georgia statistics at you...
Boxes of donations: 74
Total weight: 2,392.5 pounds (1,085 kilos)
Sample item tallies: 278 blankets, 278 coats, 394 sweaters, 136 pants
Now's the part where I negotiate with a shipping company to get this stuff overseas, which is what I've been doing for the last two weeks. We could still use funds-- it looks like it will cost over $2500 to ship everything, and we have about $1500 now. Help!!!
Boxes of donations: 74
Total weight: 2,392.5 pounds (1,085 kilos)
Sample item tallies: 278 blankets, 278 coats, 394 sweaters, 136 pants
Now's the part where I negotiate with a shipping company to get this stuff overseas, which is what I've been doing for the last two weeks. We could still use funds-- it looks like it will cost over $2500 to ship everything, and we have about $1500 now. Help!!!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Box'd!
Thanks to the helpful helpfulness of fellow Georgia ex-volunteer Lisa Erdeljon and her mom, my mom, and Dad & happy helper Judy, the vast majority of the blankets and coats and stuff have been organized into boxes. They brought a good bit of sorted donations and empty boxes down with them, so kudos to them.
Total so far: 50 boxes
Stuff remaining to be boxed: Not much
Project should be done: Soon
Total so far: 50 boxes
Stuff remaining to be boxed: Not much
Project should be done: Soon
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Ringo Says...
... the project is coming to a close. I can't even fathom how I'm going to get the mountain of blankets we've already collected into boxes, and seeing as the original project end date was set for this past Monday, all the boxes will be taken down on Thursday or Friday.
Here to tell you about it is Ringo Starr. Sort of.
(That video made no sense to you unless you'd seen this video)
After we've got everything boxed and set, I'll post a final count, after which we can pat ourselves on the backs. Of course, we're going to be patting ourselves on the backs while a monstrous pile of blankets gets dumped in the river next April after sitting in an account-past-due storage unit all winter unless we get some shipping money.
A million thanks to the people have donated to the project already. The rest of you, take those faceless initials and town names as a shining example for us all. Wouldn't we rather bring smiles to the faces of hundreds of Georgians instead of a giant scowl to a fisherman who hooks a coat from the riverbed next spring?
Here to tell you about it is Ringo Starr. Sort of.
(That video made no sense to you unless you'd seen this video)
After we've got everything boxed and set, I'll post a final count, after which we can pat ourselves on the backs. Of course, we're going to be patting ourselves on the backs while a monstrous pile of blankets gets dumped in the river next April after sitting in an account-past-due storage unit all winter unless we get some shipping money.
A million thanks to the people have donated to the project already. The rest of you, take those faceless initials and town names as a shining example for us all. Wouldn't we rather bring smiles to the faces of hundreds of Georgians instead of a giant scowl to a fisherman who hooks a coat from the riverbed next spring?
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Checking In
Here's your second project update video. These'll keep coming as long as Mom continues to be fascinated by the video-editing capabilities of her Macbook.
The day after we filmed this (namely, today), we received calls from three drop-off points requesting a pick-up, and now there's a mountain of unboxed blankets and coats in the storage space piled next to the 22 boxes you see here. This is delightful, though we're still without sufficient shipping money... if you were waiting for your opportunity to donate until after I had started to feel creeping panic, then this is your moment.
We still need twice as much shipping money as the $850 we've raised so far, at least.
The day after we filmed this (namely, today), we received calls from three drop-off points requesting a pick-up, and now there's a mountain of unboxed blankets and coats in the storage space piled next to the 22 boxes you see here. This is delightful, though we're still without sufficient shipping money... if you were waiting for your opportunity to donate until after I had started to feel creeping panic, then this is your moment.
We still need twice as much shipping money as the $850 we've raised so far, at least.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Give & Let Buy
The title makes no sense, but I like the song it (loosely) derives from, so it shall remain. This post will give you a sneak peek at the generous local businesses that have contributed invaluably to the project; we'll also make our first foray into spending project money.
The Shipping Store, Wildewood Shopping Center
John Boyd, Owner
A big round of applause for Mr Boyd's generous donation of 31 brand new cardboard boxes to the project! He even drove them back to our house in his pickup. Cheers to you, sir.
Security Storage, Hollywood, MD
John Charles, Manager
Huzzah for Security Storage, who is allowing the Blankets for Georgia project to use a 10'x10' storage space for free! Well, actually, it's at the extremely discounted price of $1 per month. Huzzahs all around!
Here's some numbers so far, which would not have been possible without the assistance of the above businesses. Note: these numbers only represent what we've cataloged and boxed so far, and does not include the piles of stuff still sitting in our makeshift household storage room.
- 34 blankets and comforters
- 31 sweaters/shirts
- 30 coats/jackets
- 26 baby onesies
- 15 baby shirts
And a last note... as you can see on the right, we've raised $815 so far. There's a new list below that for expenses; so far we've had to purchase more shipping tape and a padlock for the free shipping space. Keep posted for updates there.
The Shipping Store, Wildewood Shopping Center
John Boyd, Owner
A big round of applause for Mr Boyd's generous donation of 31 brand new cardboard boxes to the project! He even drove them back to our house in his pickup. Cheers to you, sir.
Security Storage, Hollywood, MD
John Charles, Manager
Huzzah for Security Storage, who is allowing the Blankets for Georgia project to use a 10'x10' storage space for free! Well, actually, it's at the extremely discounted price of $1 per month. Huzzahs all around!
Here's some numbers so far, which would not have been possible without the assistance of the above businesses. Note: these numbers only represent what we've cataloged and boxed so far, and does not include the piles of stuff still sitting in our makeshift household storage room.
- 34 blankets and comforters
- 31 sweaters/shirts
- 30 coats/jackets
- 26 baby onesies
- 15 baby shirts
And a last note... as you can see on the right, we've raised $815 so far. There's a new list below that for expenses; so far we've had to purchase more shipping tape and a padlock for the free shipping space. Keep posted for updates there.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Update time!
We're at the halfway point now in the blanket drive, and here's what's going on so far:
8 full boxes of donations
1 room half-full of donations that have yet to be boxed
$800 toward shipping
Huzzah! But keep it coming... $2000 is the goal for fundraising, which is the cost of sending a big load of boxes via freight to Georgia. Also, we'll want to have a big load of boxes to send, so keep throwing your blankets and winter clothes at us!
8 full boxes of donations
1 room half-full of donations that have yet to be boxed
$800 toward shipping
Huzzah! But keep it coming... $2000 is the goal for fundraising, which is the cost of sending a big load of boxes via freight to Georgia. Also, we'll want to have a big load of boxes to send, so keep throwing your blankets and winter clothes at us!
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
New drop-off point!
Patuxent Presbyterian Church on Rt 4, just south of the Solomon's Island Bridge
Calvert County residents, I'm looking at you!
Calvert County residents, I'm looking at you!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Locations Locations Locations
Wanna donate blankets or winter clothes to our project? If it's not October 13th yet, then grab the keys to the nearest vehicle, or your STS bus pass, and head on over to one of these locations. Please note that only students and their families can use the schools as drop points...
Pro Fitness Gym -- Wildewood Shopping Center
Shoppers Food Warehouse -- San Souci Plaza
Great Mills High School
Leonardtown High School
Esperanza Middle School
Spring Ridge Middle School
Hollywood Elementary School
Also a reminder, financial donations are gladly accepted and will be either extremely or desperately needed, depending on how many blankets we end up with. Click on the Paypal Donate button on the top-right side of this blog, or send a check to the address I gave you in the last post.
And check this out:
Pro Fitness Gym -- Wildewood Shopping Center
Shoppers Food Warehouse -- San Souci Plaza
Great Mills High School
Leonardtown High School
Esperanza Middle School
Spring Ridge Middle School
Hollywood Elementary School
Also a reminder, financial donations are gladly accepted and will be either extremely or desperately needed, depending on how many blankets we end up with. Click on the Paypal Donate button on the top-right side of this blog, or send a check to the address I gave you in the last post.
And check this out:
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Boxing Day
We've got some new information about the project...
Timeline
Boxes will be out from Monday September 22nd to Monday October 13th; fundraising for the shipping costs will continue until all necessary funds have been accrued.
Locations
Next post, I promise! We're still securing all our donation drop-off points, and I want to make sure we get as many as possible.
Financial Donations
Sending boxes to Georgia via USPS costs $21 plus approximately $4 per pound, so for example, a 20-pound box would cost $90 and a 30-pound box would cost $125.
Please note that all donations and project expenditures will be recorded on this site so you can see where your money is going (see the donor list at the top?). Excess funds will be donated to the Georgian NGO Kartli XXI, as described in the previous post.
Timeline
Boxes will be out from Monday September 22nd to Monday October 13th; fundraising for the shipping costs will continue until all necessary funds have been accrued.
Locations
Next post, I promise! We're still securing all our donation drop-off points, and I want to make sure we get as many as possible.
Financial Donations
Sending boxes to Georgia via USPS costs $21 plus approximately $4 per pound, so for example, a 20-pound box would cost $90 and a 30-pound box would cost $125.
Please note that all donations and project expenditures will be recorded on this site so you can see where your money is going (see the donor list at the top?). Excess funds will be donated to the Georgian NGO Kartli XXI, as described in the previous post.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Let's rock this
Care to join in on our little venture to get blankets and warm clothes to a pair of war-torn villages before winter arrives?
What we want: *Gently-used* blankets and clothing, shipping materials like boxes, money for shipping
Target: the villages of Tortiza and Mejvriskhevi, which were bombed extensively during the recent war; they are very close to Gori, the town that was effectively destroyed
Participants: returned Peace Corps volunteers (myself included) in the US and in Georgia, residents of the local village Kheltubani who act as fact-finders and contacts, the Megobari Project, Kartli XXI (an education NGO), donors of St. Mary's County, Maryland
Project Plan:
Serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Georgia for the last two years, I made a lot of connections with host family and friends in the communities where I worked, and I was received warmly by all my colleagues and neighbors. As such, it seems fitting that instead of blowing all my time watching Project Runway, it would be better to organize a drive to get winter supplies to Georgians in bombed-out villages before winter sets in.
With extensive publicity and multiple donation locations, we will collect gently-used blankets and warm clothes from donors in southern MD, as well as shipping money and boxes. By early October, all the boxes will be packed and in the mail, destined for the headquarters of the Megobari Project, an association of former Georgia Peace Corps volunteers who will store the donation until it can be transferred to an NGO in Gori which will distribute it to needy families in Tortiza and Mejvriskhevi. All leftover money from the shipping fundraiser will be donated to Kartli XXI to buy school suppplies for local children affected by the war.
How to Donate:
Very soon (check back here for exact date information, which as of now depends on the date that the local newspaper prints the publicity article) there will be donation boxes placed at a series of locations around St. Mary's County where you can bring blankets and warm clothing to. There will also be an address and a Paypal account where you can send money for shipping. Alas, the organization that returned Georgia volunteers are creating for the purpose of sending aid to Georgia will not come into legal existence until this project is finished, so my only option is to request that donations be sent to me. I understand that some people may not be comfortable sending money to an individual, but rest assured that:
1) I handled $3400 worth of grants in Georgia with nary a penny embezzled.
2) All monetary donations will be listed on this blog with amounts, unless the donor requests otherwise, and the shipping expenditures and Kartli XXI wire transfer transactions will be detailed here.
So watch this blog for the next week, and we'll get this project started!
What we want: *Gently-used* blankets and clothing, shipping materials like boxes, money for shipping
Target: the villages of Tortiza and Mejvriskhevi, which were bombed extensively during the recent war; they are very close to Gori, the town that was effectively destroyed
Participants: returned Peace Corps volunteers (myself included) in the US and in Georgia, residents of the local village Kheltubani who act as fact-finders and contacts, the Megobari Project, Kartli XXI (an education NGO), donors of St. Mary's County, Maryland
Project Plan:
Serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Georgia for the last two years, I made a lot of connections with host family and friends in the communities where I worked, and I was received warmly by all my colleagues and neighbors. As such, it seems fitting that instead of blowing all my time watching Project Runway, it would be better to organize a drive to get winter supplies to Georgians in bombed-out villages before winter sets in.
With extensive publicity and multiple donation locations, we will collect gently-used blankets and warm clothes from donors in southern MD, as well as shipping money and boxes. By early October, all the boxes will be packed and in the mail, destined for the headquarters of the Megobari Project, an association of former Georgia Peace Corps volunteers who will store the donation until it can be transferred to an NGO in Gori which will distribute it to needy families in Tortiza and Mejvriskhevi. All leftover money from the shipping fundraiser will be donated to Kartli XXI to buy school suppplies for local children affected by the war.
How to Donate:
Very soon (check back here for exact date information, which as of now depends on the date that the local newspaper prints the publicity article) there will be donation boxes placed at a series of locations around St. Mary's County where you can bring blankets and warm clothing to. There will also be an address and a Paypal account where you can send money for shipping. Alas, the organization that returned Georgia volunteers are creating for the purpose of sending aid to Georgia will not come into legal existence until this project is finished, so my only option is to request that donations be sent to me. I understand that some people may not be comfortable sending money to an individual, but rest assured that:
1) I handled $3400 worth of grants in Georgia with nary a penny embezzled.
2) All monetary donations will be listed on this blog with amounts, unless the donor requests otherwise, and the shipping expenditures and Kartli XXI wire transfer transactions will be detailed here.
So watch this blog for the next week, and we'll get this project started!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Everyone needs a blankie
Hello, all. You seem to have stopped coming to my blog, which is fine because I seem to have stopped posting. Thus, let's shift the purpose here: for the next couple months, this blog will be home to the project to send a donation of warm blankets and clothing to two villages in Georgia for the winter! I have yet to come up with a witty name for this project, though I did decide that if I ever ran a donation campaign of blankets for zombies, it would be called Bedspreads for the Undead (accent on the "un").
We're still in the setting-things-up phase, but check in soon for such extravagant features as...
- a list of donation sites where you can bring your gently-used blankets and warm clothing!
- a list of people and organizations who have donated money toward shipping!
- pictures!
- a detailed project description! which will definitely be the next post because it's rather important!
Stay tuned...
We're still in the setting-things-up phase, but check in soon for such extravagant features as...
- a list of donation sites where you can bring your gently-used blankets and warm clothing!
- a list of people and organizations who have donated money toward shipping!
- pictures!
- a detailed project description! which will definitely be the next post because it's rather important!
Stay tuned...
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Back by Popular* Demand
*by "popular" I mean "a"
Those of you who are hard core fans will remember this blog's tragic day back in February 2007 when a carefully-constructed and culturally-sensitive post comparing Borat to Georgia was censored by my ever-cautious employer, the US government. Well, guess what, US government? I'm not a volunteer anymore, and since you haven't responded to my State Department application, you don't own my soul anymore! Here's the post, restored to its former glory. I should note that I put a lot of effort into making it as kind and appropriate as possible, which made the censorship sting all the more. But bygones are bygones...
Borat vs. Georgia
Those of you who are hard core fans will remember this blog's tragic day back in February 2007 when a carefully-constructed and culturally-sensitive post comparing Borat to Georgia was censored by my ever-cautious employer, the US government. Well, guess what, US government? I'm not a volunteer anymore, and since you haven't responded to my State Department application, you don't own my soul anymore! Here's the post, restored to its former glory. I should note that I put a lot of effort into making it as kind and appropriate as possible, which made the censorship sting all the more. But bygones are bygones...
Borat vs. Georgia
Friday, August 22, 2008
The Sound of Impotence
No, this is not going to lead to a joke about any political leader from either side. Rather, it's a reference to my impotence, sitting around in St. Mary's County, Maryland while unbeknownst to me, exciting things like pro-Georgia protests and rallies are happening in DC and New York. I could set up a pro-Georgia protest here, and maybe people would attend, but more likely it'd be just like that 9/11 candlelight vigil my friend and I held next to an intersection, with the occasional supportive beep from passing cars but little else. And don't make fun of me for holding a candlelight vigil; I was young and emotional.
It's probably for the best. I don't know if I'm the best person to have at a rally. You know how on South Park the reporters come by and ask members of the public for their opinion on an incident and they say something like,
"Well that was awfully unfair, but I can see that it was necessary."
And then the next guy says,
"It was very necessary. Though it might have been a bit unfair."
That's me, treading the lukewarm waters in the shallow end of the fervor pool. I'd love to be able to say "RUSSIA SUCKS!" without the echoing chorus of provisos in my mind... "Just the government, not the people. And they suck, but it's a dumb idea to be putting missiles in Poland and accelerating Georgia's NATO ascension, which seemed to be on indefinite pause a couple months ago. Wasn't there a reason for that?" et al.
Best to stick to specifics. If I were at the NYC protest tomorrow, I'd have a sign that says "RUSSIA OUT OF POTI" or "NO MORE CHECKPOINTS" or maybe "INDEPENDENCE FOR NORTH OSSETIA" or something like that. But I won't be. I'll be here in southern Maryland, healing my laptop that crashed (at least it was after Peace Corps) and listing Dad's various truck parts on eBay.
Even attending one protest-- especially after having attended NYU for four years without waving a single banner-- would ease my conscience, which leads me to wonder what it is that I'm doing that is bad in the first place. Not showing my red-and-whites on national TV? Not fundraising thousands of dollars to send back for the relief effort?
Back to Season 5 of The Wire...
It's probably for the best. I don't know if I'm the best person to have at a rally. You know how on South Park the reporters come by and ask members of the public for their opinion on an incident and they say something like,
"Well that was awfully unfair, but I can see that it was necessary."
And then the next guy says,
"It was very necessary. Though it might have been a bit unfair."
That's me, treading the lukewarm waters in the shallow end of the fervor pool. I'd love to be able to say "RUSSIA SUCKS!" without the echoing chorus of provisos in my mind... "Just the government, not the people. And they suck, but it's a dumb idea to be putting missiles in Poland and accelerating Georgia's NATO ascension, which seemed to be on indefinite pause a couple months ago. Wasn't there a reason for that?" et al.
Best to stick to specifics. If I were at the NYC protest tomorrow, I'd have a sign that says "RUSSIA OUT OF POTI" or "NO MORE CHECKPOINTS" or maybe "INDEPENDENCE FOR NORTH OSSETIA" or something like that. But I won't be. I'll be here in southern Maryland, healing my laptop that crashed (at least it was after Peace Corps) and listing Dad's various truck parts on eBay.
Even attending one protest-- especially after having attended NYU for four years without waving a single banner-- would ease my conscience, which leads me to wonder what it is that I'm doing that is bad in the first place. Not showing my red-and-whites on national TV? Not fundraising thousands of dollars to send back for the relief effort?
Back to Season 5 of The Wire...
Monday, July 14, 2008
Let's dance... the last dance...
I may have just put the last two phone cards into my cell phone. It's not the most exciting landmark one could note, but it occurred to me as I was scratching the back with a 10-tetri piece.
Three days left, zero weekends left, zero days of class left, probably five or six Tbilisi metro rides left, one train ride left, two more chicken mtsvadi sandwiches from Ori Lula left, three nights in the host family's apartment left, et cetera.
I suppose this is a note to go out on... last Monday, the local newspaper published an article from an interview with me, complete with a nice-sized picture of me smiling. We spoke about me, about my sister, my job, and how to make hamburgers. Accordingly, across the top in bold letters is the title, "If I Fell in Love, I Would Marry a Georgian." The effect is rather like a personals ad. Good thing I'm leaving before the responses come in.
It's also on the front page as a tabloid teaser-- "If I Fell in Love, I Would Marry a Georgian... Page 5!"
In any case, Peace Corps is over. There were times when I would have loved to leave early, but mostly there were times when I knew no desk job could compare. There were times when I wanted to pull my hair out, but then the bell rang and school was out. There were times when I missed my friends and family, but there were (and are) also times where I feared for the impending departure of the last taxi full of my Georgia friends to the airport on July 17th.
I returned my water filter and said goodbye to my host family and neighbors. I swung by the houses of my counterparts one last time, fairly certain that they and their teaching styles are completely unchanged from June 2006. I sent text messages to my favorite students implying that I won't come visit them again if they stop studying English. I went on one last terrifying car ride, the driver squeezing between oncoming semis as the Geocell 2007 Christmas CD filled the July air with the sound of Jingle Bells.
And now, a clip from my other blog written April 17, 2006:
"I feel like I'm preparing to leave the planet. Every once in a while it'll occur to me that these are my last few weeks in the U.S. for a very long while, but most of the time the Peace Corps seems like a daydream I've been having, like it's not entirely possible that I've decided to ditch everyone I know and every cultural sensibility I've grown up with and every perk of strong economic performance (the nation's, not mine... clearly...) that I've become accustomed to-- to go hole up in a communications-isolated rural village in an ex-Soviet nation with spotty electricity and shaky governmental foundations. My little dream right now is that I'll be posted in a relatively-large city on the Black Sea (where the climate is warm and they grow oranges) with an Internet cafe or two. There's very little chance, but stranger things have happened. If all else fails, Squaw gave me a travel journal that I'm sure I'll spend many evenings crying into. What the hell am I thinking!?
Of course I know what I'm thinking: I'm thinking that in addition to the fact that I wouldn't get into any of the grad schools I want unless I have an application boost like this, the fact remains that the reasons I told the Peace Corps recruiter were true. I would like to represent the United States overseas in a non-combat, non-religious, non-elevated role, volunteering two years of my life to enhance a community, knowing that I probably won't have another untethered two years in which to do so for the rest of my life. It's a little different when you try to translate lofty ideals into concrete plans, though. I can't think of any other time I've tried to do something this crazy.
It won't be that bad. That's the difference between this trip and my trip to Cuba: I was prepared to burn through the 4 weeks and get my ass back home to my friends and family as quickly as possible. Result: weeks of abject misery. This time, the situation is quasi-permanent; any efforts on my part to try and speed up the process or to count the days until I leave will result in an even more deep-set and chronic misery. I'm sure there's people out there who hate the Peace Corps, those volunteers who get there and decide it's too hard. And I remember I almost thought Cuba was too hard, even though it was only 4 freaking weeks. But dammit, I stayed, and the Peace Corps will have to drag me out of Georgia by my hair before I'd quit (easy to say that now, huh?). I'm gonna teach English whether the kids like it or not, I'm gonna travel around the region with other volunteers, and I'm gonna retreat to my journal and mp3 player (think anyone will get me one?) to cry less and less frequently as I stay there longer."
Yay for me.
Goodbye, Georgia. Every time I see an issue of Us Weekly in a checkout line and every time I see a commercial for a Super Duper Grande Quadruple Greaseburger value meal, I will think of you fondly. Every time I step on the scale and every time a Georgian word passes my lips when I'm trying to speak Spanish, I will curse your memory. Much like the ups and downs of my Peace Corps service, it will balance out in the end.
P.S. Join Peace Corps.
Three days left, zero weekends left, zero days of class left, probably five or six Tbilisi metro rides left, one train ride left, two more chicken mtsvadi sandwiches from Ori Lula left, three nights in the host family's apartment left, et cetera.
I suppose this is a note to go out on... last Monday, the local newspaper published an article from an interview with me, complete with a nice-sized picture of me smiling. We spoke about me, about my sister, my job, and how to make hamburgers. Accordingly, across the top in bold letters is the title, "If I Fell in Love, I Would Marry a Georgian." The effect is rather like a personals ad. Good thing I'm leaving before the responses come in.
It's also on the front page as a tabloid teaser-- "If I Fell in Love, I Would Marry a Georgian... Page 5!"
In any case, Peace Corps is over. There were times when I would have loved to leave early, but mostly there were times when I knew no desk job could compare. There were times when I wanted to pull my hair out, but then the bell rang and school was out. There were times when I missed my friends and family, but there were (and are) also times where I feared for the impending departure of the last taxi full of my Georgia friends to the airport on July 17th.
I returned my water filter and said goodbye to my host family and neighbors. I swung by the houses of my counterparts one last time, fairly certain that they and their teaching styles are completely unchanged from June 2006. I sent text messages to my favorite students implying that I won't come visit them again if they stop studying English. I went on one last terrifying car ride, the driver squeezing between oncoming semis as the Geocell 2007 Christmas CD filled the July air with the sound of Jingle Bells.
And now, a clip from my other blog written April 17, 2006:
"I feel like I'm preparing to leave the planet. Every once in a while it'll occur to me that these are my last few weeks in the U.S. for a very long while, but most of the time the Peace Corps seems like a daydream I've been having, like it's not entirely possible that I've decided to ditch everyone I know and every cultural sensibility I've grown up with and every perk of strong economic performance (the nation's, not mine... clearly...) that I've become accustomed to-- to go hole up in a communications-isolated rural village in an ex-Soviet nation with spotty electricity and shaky governmental foundations. My little dream right now is that I'll be posted in a relatively-large city on the Black Sea (where the climate is warm and they grow oranges) with an Internet cafe or two. There's very little chance, but stranger things have happened. If all else fails, Squaw gave me a travel journal that I'm sure I'll spend many evenings crying into. What the hell am I thinking!?
Of course I know what I'm thinking: I'm thinking that in addition to the fact that I wouldn't get into any of the grad schools I want unless I have an application boost like this, the fact remains that the reasons I told the Peace Corps recruiter were true. I would like to represent the United States overseas in a non-combat, non-religious, non-elevated role, volunteering two years of my life to enhance a community, knowing that I probably won't have another untethered two years in which to do so for the rest of my life. It's a little different when you try to translate lofty ideals into concrete plans, though. I can't think of any other time I've tried to do something this crazy.
It won't be that bad. That's the difference between this trip and my trip to Cuba: I was prepared to burn through the 4 weeks and get my ass back home to my friends and family as quickly as possible. Result: weeks of abject misery. This time, the situation is quasi-permanent; any efforts on my part to try and speed up the process or to count the days until I leave will result in an even more deep-set and chronic misery. I'm sure there's people out there who hate the Peace Corps, those volunteers who get there and decide it's too hard. And I remember I almost thought Cuba was too hard, even though it was only 4 freaking weeks. But dammit, I stayed, and the Peace Corps will have to drag me out of Georgia by my hair before I'd quit (easy to say that now, huh?). I'm gonna teach English whether the kids like it or not, I'm gonna travel around the region with other volunteers, and I'm gonna retreat to my journal and mp3 player (think anyone will get me one?) to cry less and less frequently as I stay there longer."
Yay for me.
Goodbye, Georgia. Every time I see an issue of Us Weekly in a checkout line and every time I see a commercial for a Super Duper Grande Quadruple Greaseburger value meal, I will think of you fondly. Every time I step on the scale and every time a Georgian word passes my lips when I'm trying to speak Spanish, I will curse your memory. Much like the ups and downs of my Peace Corps service, it will balance out in the end.
P.S. Join Peace Corps.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Authentic Bulgarian Miak
Mom said that my sister and I had to give our Eastern Europe extravaganza a name, and for this purpose we chose Authentic Bulgarian Miak. It suits the trip, partly because we intend to stop in Bulgaria for at least a day or two, but mostly because we've seen the movie that it references at least a hundred thousand times. Even if you are one of the ten people in the world who get the reference, you are still wondering why anybody would name a trip after that.
To update you (since I don't remember what the last post I made was about), my sister Sara has arrived in the great land of Georgia and is currently adjusting to this brave new world of supras and squat toilets. After my Peace Corps service ends (10 days!!! EEE!!!), we're going to mosey back to the US over the course of 4 weeks. Success will be defined as: 1) staying within $200 of our projected budgets, and 2) not killing one another.
So far, so good. She's been here three days as I write this, and we've seen Soviet model town Chiatura and country village Kheltubani. She prefers the latter, it seems, though this might be because the host family has made an inspiring effort to spend time together and to take us to ancient cave cities, both of which contribute to memories and culture and all that. In another show of culture, we did spend the entire day until 5PM staring at the wall and waiting for the heat to diminish a little bit.
As I write this, she's looking through the pictures we took today at the cave city and at Sioni, a 7th century church in the village of Ateni. She seems more delighted by the pictures of my host family's one-month-old puppy, but perhaps that's because there's no squeal-y equivalent for awe.
In any case, I will make a valiant effort to put forth at least one more post on this blog before I depart the country. I foresee posting approximately zero times during my four weeks in Eastern Europe, mostly because I won't have a computer.
And after that?
Well, I assume that most of the people who read this are travelers or wannabe travelers who enjoy reading about life in another culture. I also assume that none of those same people would be remotely interested in hearing Jennifer's Observations About New York, subtitled I Live in a Box. Nonetheless, I have come to the self-promoting conclusion that there must be someone out there who would benefit from a blog about the process of readjustment to America after Peace Corps. It should be interesting. But maybe it won't be interesting to you; should my hit counter slow to a crawl, I won't be offended. Just delete this page from your Favorites, and we can move on with our lives.
So this means that the next post-- my last post until late August-- should be about conclusions and What I Learned and such. We shall see; that sounds rather lofty and ambitious. To boot, it would really blow to end this era with 500 words of contrite fluff ("I learned that all cultures are beautiful!"). The suspense is killing me...
To update you (since I don't remember what the last post I made was about), my sister Sara has arrived in the great land of Georgia and is currently adjusting to this brave new world of supras and squat toilets. After my Peace Corps service ends (10 days!!! EEE!!!), we're going to mosey back to the US over the course of 4 weeks. Success will be defined as: 1) staying within $200 of our projected budgets, and 2) not killing one another.
So far, so good. She's been here three days as I write this, and we've seen Soviet model town Chiatura and country village Kheltubani. She prefers the latter, it seems, though this might be because the host family has made an inspiring effort to spend time together and to take us to ancient cave cities, both of which contribute to memories and culture and all that. In another show of culture, we did spend the entire day until 5PM staring at the wall and waiting for the heat to diminish a little bit.
As I write this, she's looking through the pictures we took today at the cave city and at Sioni, a 7th century church in the village of Ateni. She seems more delighted by the pictures of my host family's one-month-old puppy, but perhaps that's because there's no squeal-y equivalent for awe.
In any case, I will make a valiant effort to put forth at least one more post on this blog before I depart the country. I foresee posting approximately zero times during my four weeks in Eastern Europe, mostly because I won't have a computer.
And after that?
Well, I assume that most of the people who read this are travelers or wannabe travelers who enjoy reading about life in another culture. I also assume that none of those same people would be remotely interested in hearing Jennifer's Observations About New York, subtitled I Live in a Box. Nonetheless, I have come to the self-promoting conclusion that there must be someone out there who would benefit from a blog about the process of readjustment to America after Peace Corps. It should be interesting. But maybe it won't be interesting to you; should my hit counter slow to a crawl, I won't be offended. Just delete this page from your Favorites, and we can move on with our lives.
So this means that the next post-- my last post until late August-- should be about conclusions and What I Learned and such. We shall see; that sounds rather lofty and ambitious. To boot, it would really blow to end this era with 500 words of contrite fluff ("I learned that all cultures are beautiful!"). The suspense is killing me...
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Why You Should Go to Sarpi
This was going to be a list of the top ten places to visit should you find yourself in the former Soviet Republic of Georgia, but then I realized that those places I'm not supposed to go-- breakaway republics, medieval fifedoms in the mountains, gorges that double as terrorist hideouts, etc-- might have made the list if they'd had a chance. So instead, I'll just describe one of the coolest places in Georgia really quickly, and then offer some links to blog posts about my favorite places here, and you can decide for yourself. Frankly, it's way too late in the game for me to start putting any "research" or "effort" into these posts, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Cool place of the day: Sarpi
Sarpi is the border town between Georgia and Turkey along the Black Sea coast ("Sarp" on Turkish maps). From the beach, you can see lines of semis waiting to drive through customs, two mosques, mountains, and-- some have told me-- dolphins. In fact, my friends pretended to spot dolphins the entire time we were there because they knew I'd whip around and drown myself in a desperate attempt to get a peek. There were no dolphins. My friends suck.
One cool part about Sarpi is the rock beaches. Yes, there are rock beaches up and down most of Georgia's coast, but rest assured-- they're here too.
Another thing: the water is clear. If you were considering a dip in the fetid oil slick that they call Batumi harbor, try taking a 20-minute marshutka to Sarpi instead.
It's sunny and hot, too. For anyone who still thinks that Georgia and Siberia are neighbors, I invite you to come sample their 90-degree weather this summer, which is a welcome departure from last year's 104-degree weather.
Also, the jellyfish don't sting. After a test application of the underside to our arms, we established that they were not painful, merely gross. While there were jellies galore the first day, there were minimal ones the next day, so maybe you'll get lucky and avoid the whole gelatinous debacle all together.
And now the other places you should visit:
1) Chiatura-- Former Soviet model town, now just filled with crumbling signs of USSR glory. And cable cars.
2) Ratcha-- Mountainous region on the border with Russia. Come see the nature!
3) Vani-- Destination of Jason and the Argonauts, with a museum to prove it.
4) Samtredia-- There's... um...
5) America
Cool place of the day: Sarpi
Sarpi is the border town between Georgia and Turkey along the Black Sea coast ("Sarp" on Turkish maps). From the beach, you can see lines of semis waiting to drive through customs, two mosques, mountains, and-- some have told me-- dolphins. In fact, my friends pretended to spot dolphins the entire time we were there because they knew I'd whip around and drown myself in a desperate attempt to get a peek. There were no dolphins. My friends suck.
One cool part about Sarpi is the rock beaches. Yes, there are rock beaches up and down most of Georgia's coast, but rest assured-- they're here too.
Another thing: the water is clear. If you were considering a dip in the fetid oil slick that they call Batumi harbor, try taking a 20-minute marshutka to Sarpi instead.
It's sunny and hot, too. For anyone who still thinks that Georgia and Siberia are neighbors, I invite you to come sample their 90-degree weather this summer, which is a welcome departure from last year's 104-degree weather.
Also, the jellyfish don't sting. After a test application of the underside to our arms, we established that they were not painful, merely gross. While there were jellies galore the first day, there were minimal ones the next day, so maybe you'll get lucky and avoid the whole gelatinous debacle all together.
And now the other places you should visit:
1) Chiatura-- Former Soviet model town, now just filled with crumbling signs of USSR glory. And cable cars.
2) Ratcha-- Mountainous region on the border with Russia. Come see the nature!
3) Vani-- Destination of Jason and the Argonauts, with a museum to prove it.
4) Samtredia-- There's... um...
5) America
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
A Roject-Pay
There's not much point in writing a before-and-after post for the project done by the 3rd school, since the dramatic transformation from GOOD to BETTER is not at all inspirational. Nonetheless, for those of you who are even mildly interested, here's a quick before-and-after series.
Exhibit A, the old teacher's desk. Exhibit B would be the new teacher's desk, except I forgot to take a picture of it. But it just looks like the computer desk, so picture that. Part of me wonders what my counterpart will clang her keys on now when she wants the students to shut up. Hopefully not on this desk.
In the first corner, a nook. In the second corner, the new nook. Did the mirror need to be there? Perhaps not. I've noticed that, contrary to my expectations, the boys are the ones who pause in front of it to fix their clothes most often.
On your left, our back wall. On your right, our back wall is completely obscured by the new shelves, which are the centerpiece of this project. You have no idea how many previously hidden books we discovered in the annals of the old locked cabinet that held them beforehand, including a book for children that introduces them to the reproductive cycle, puberty, sex, homosexuality, and abortion. I hope one of the kids finds it and starts a revolution of not pretending that sex doesn't exist.
There you go. I fear that the tone of this post has revealed too much about how I feel about this project, but there's not much to be done about that which doesn't involve deleting the whole post. I can't explicitly describe the rationale behind my negativity, but it has a lot to do with the fact that this kind of grant-based project is the only eason-ray why I was rought-bay oo-tay is-thay ool-schay, and I ope-hay at-thay ere-thay will ever-nay e-bay another olunteer-vay ere-thay.
Eriously-say
Exhibit A, the old teacher's desk. Exhibit B would be the new teacher's desk, except I forgot to take a picture of it. But it just looks like the computer desk, so picture that. Part of me wonders what my counterpart will clang her keys on now when she wants the students to shut up. Hopefully not on this desk.
In the first corner, a nook. In the second corner, the new nook. Did the mirror need to be there? Perhaps not. I've noticed that, contrary to my expectations, the boys are the ones who pause in front of it to fix their clothes most often.
On your left, our back wall. On your right, our back wall is completely obscured by the new shelves, which are the centerpiece of this project. You have no idea how many previously hidden books we discovered in the annals of the old locked cabinet that held them beforehand, including a book for children that introduces them to the reproductive cycle, puberty, sex, homosexuality, and abortion. I hope one of the kids finds it and starts a revolution of not pretending that sex doesn't exist.
There you go. I fear that the tone of this post has revealed too much about how I feel about this project, but there's not much to be done about that which doesn't involve deleting the whole post. I can't explicitly describe the rationale behind my negativity, but it has a lot to do with the fact that this kind of grant-based project is the only eason-ray why I was rought-bay oo-tay is-thay ool-schay, and I ope-hay at-thay ere-thay will ever-nay e-bay another olunteer-vay ere-thay.
Eriously-say
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Wastin' Time
Packing up all your belongings when you're about to move inevitably turns into a trip down memory lane. For some reason, I seem to have decided that an essential step in clearing out my bedroom involves flipping through every page of every notebook in search of... well, something important and untrashable. Thus far all I've retrieved of note is hundreds of doodles, one inexplicable sentence written in a corner ("I wish for nothing but absolute success."), dozens of countdowns to COS or my birthday or the visit to America, etc.
On the same page as the 134 Days Till COS, 19 Weeks Till COS, 4.5 Months Till COS countdown was a bulleted list of weird things I missed about America. Must have been written in March, and I'm reasonably certain it was written while I was staring at the wall as my counterpart taught the 4th grade class without seeking or accepting my assistance.
Did I mention that I'm not a teacher anymore? God bless teachers. Being a teacher has given me that extra boost to pursue a career in economics or international politics because those fields are infinitely easier. You couldn't pay me enough to be a teacher again, and your tax dollars don't pay teachers enough as it is. I was a teacher for a measly two years, yet if I had to have a conference with one more parent about why we're not teaching English the same way she was taught as a child (isn't that why you don't speak English now?), or why her child didn't get the highest grade even though he never came to class... enough said. Next time you see a teacher, run up and hug them. Unless it's that teacher who had a grudge against you in 10th grade because your older sibling goofed off in his class.
ANYWAY, in lieu of writing a blog, I thought I'd share with you the list I came up with while I was hard at work making countdowns and lists instead of teaching. I think I started with the intention of making every entry quirky and esoteric, but that theme disintegrated toward the end.
Things I Miss About America
- rest stops on the New Jersey turnpike
- chickens raised on hormone injections
- Netflix
- karaoke
- Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper
- unlimited subway passes
- Chinese lunch specials
- diners
- fishing with jumbo bloodworms because the regular ones were sold out when the legitimate fishermen came through the store three hours earlier
- taekwondo tournaments
- Cranium
- Q104.3 New York's Classic Rock
- Sheryl Crow's self-titled CD
- dogs on leashes
- manual transmission driving
- Dance Dance Revolution
- anonymity
- payday
- my violin
- Jeopardy
- No-Ad sunblock
On the same page as the 134 Days Till COS, 19 Weeks Till COS, 4.5 Months Till COS countdown was a bulleted list of weird things I missed about America. Must have been written in March, and I'm reasonably certain it was written while I was staring at the wall as my counterpart taught the 4th grade class without seeking or accepting my assistance.
Did I mention that I'm not a teacher anymore? God bless teachers. Being a teacher has given me that extra boost to pursue a career in economics or international politics because those fields are infinitely easier. You couldn't pay me enough to be a teacher again, and your tax dollars don't pay teachers enough as it is. I was a teacher for a measly two years, yet if I had to have a conference with one more parent about why we're not teaching English the same way she was taught as a child (isn't that why you don't speak English now?), or why her child didn't get the highest grade even though he never came to class... enough said. Next time you see a teacher, run up and hug them. Unless it's that teacher who had a grudge against you in 10th grade because your older sibling goofed off in his class.
ANYWAY, in lieu of writing a blog, I thought I'd share with you the list I came up with while I was hard at work making countdowns and lists instead of teaching. I think I started with the intention of making every entry quirky and esoteric, but that theme disintegrated toward the end.
Things I Miss About America
- rest stops on the New Jersey turnpike
- chickens raised on hormone injections
- Netflix
- karaoke
- Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper
- unlimited subway passes
- Chinese lunch specials
- diners
- fishing with jumbo bloodworms because the regular ones were sold out when the legitimate fishermen came through the store three hours earlier
- taekwondo tournaments
- Cranium
- Q104.3 New York's Classic Rock
- Sheryl Crow's self-titled CD
- dogs on leashes
- manual transmission driving
- Dance Dance Revolution
- anonymity
- payday
- my violin
- Jeopardy
- No-Ad sunblock
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The Hottest in Samtredia News Teams
I guess this clip doesn't need much explanation if you read the post about the adorable 6th graders putting on Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at our school. It's a segment that the local channel, Zari, did about the event, featuring dance clips, play extracts, exterior shots, and interviews with Embassy and Peace Corps staff, as well as a fattie Peace Corps volunteer with an American accent that she hadn't realized was so coarse and obvious (Didn't even roll the R in 'Sakartvelo'! Who does that!)
Anyway, it's mostly in Georgian, but there's some English bits in there, so I recommend you watch it. At best, you can experience a little bit of our program, and at worst, you can laugh at me. Take your pick.
Anyway, it's mostly in Georgian, but there's some English bits in there, so I recommend you watch it. At best, you can experience a little bit of our program, and at worst, you can laugh at me. Take your pick.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Pipkia and the Seven Dwarves
The very last thing I saw of my precious school of two years was the Wednesday, June 4th performance of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, followed by a series of dances and songs. All in all, it was a good way to go out, most especially because nearly every number starred my precious sixth formers, though also because the best students from the eighth grade class made cameos, as did my host sister. It was like a series finale where all the old characters come back for one last hurrah, complete with a greatest hits compilation of dances they already knew but that they rehashed for the benefit of our honored guests.
Speaking of which, here they are. The volunteers on the right got the shaft, as usual, but from my left is the Peace Corps director, my counterpart, the Peace Corps executive secretary, and a foreign service officer from the Embassy. The school collectively peed itself when it found out that someone from the Embassy had accepted their invitation. A bunch of representatives from the city government and the local education resource center showed up, too.
Perhaps that's what led to the change of venue for this supra, from a chain of desks in our English cabinet to a rented-out restaurant. My counterpart pled in vain that the parents not blow their money on anything fancy, especially after spending so much on costumes and such, but nothing's too good for guests, as we realized when they brought out the second helping of ice cream, after the mtsvadi, khinkali, cake, pre-cake, khachapuri, mchadi, eggplant, cherry, strawberry, chicken, sulguni cheese, pizza, and tomato-cucumber salad with walnut courses had concluded. Please refer to what I said here about what I'd do if the community coughed up a big supra after pleading bankruptcy when we were searching for contributions to our library project. Nonetheless, it was impressive.
Snow White, like I said, came out in a most adorable manner, and the children were very put off by the manner in which I squealed every time I saw them in their cute little costumes. Here we have the seven dwarves, clothed inexplicably in neon green tunics, metallic red bloomers, and Santa Claus hats. The little kid hamming it up is my neighbor Robiko, who was so moved by his own performance that he and his friends spent the next day making a 6-part movie with their camera phone (p.s. which has better resolution than my camera-camera) about a thief who kills someone's wife and then is caught with drugs and killed by a policeman.
Check out this 30-second clip, their dress rehearsal rendition of the pivotal scene when they discover Snow White is dead and they kill the queen. Pretend that Snow White is playing dead instead of giving orders from her deathbed. Props to Doc Dwarf (the tubby one) and the Queen for their SAG-worthy performances.
The amazing success of the play was followed up by a series of poems and songs, ranging from Byron and Shakespeare to "Under Da Sea" and "Supercalifragilisticexpielidocious," to "Sway" by the Pussycat Dolls and the spiritual "Do Lord." Each was met with wild applause, or at least polite clapping.
Sensing that I had not made enough of an ass of myself, the children magically became littler and cuter, resulting in a performance of traditional dances from the region of Ratcha by the 3rd grade class. If I've uploaded the video, then you should check it out because: a) it's really short, and b) they're really short.
In the end, however, my favorite dance is and always will be the Ajaran dance, or acharuli (mayhaps atcharuli or ajaruli). Every kid in this video is my 6th grade student, and I had a big stupid grin on my face the whole time I watched them. I should mention that this video was taken during the dress rehearsal and that Robiko did not dress in street clothes for his grand solo at the actual performance. He also held an instrument in his hand instead of miming it.
Last but not least, the national anthems. They had learned "America, America" instead of "The Star-Spangled Banner," but being that the latter is full of antiquated language and has a more difficult melody (not to mention that it's about war and bombs, as my liberal friends would point out), we left it as is.
While I'm beyond relieved that the school year was over, I'm going to miss my students. It sounds lame, and perhaps it is lame, but they were the only reason I didn't switch schools. I hope I run into them a million times this summer, and I'm certain that I'll receive ten billion texts from them before July 17th. In the meantime, here's a series of pictures of them looking cute. If you like these 10% as much as I do, then it was worth uploading them. If not, I've wasted your time, and I apologize for being a groupie of my own students.
Speaking of which, here they are. The volunteers on the right got the shaft, as usual, but from my left is the Peace Corps director, my counterpart, the Peace Corps executive secretary, and a foreign service officer from the Embassy. The school collectively peed itself when it found out that someone from the Embassy had accepted their invitation. A bunch of representatives from the city government and the local education resource center showed up, too.
Perhaps that's what led to the change of venue for this supra, from a chain of desks in our English cabinet to a rented-out restaurant. My counterpart pled in vain that the parents not blow their money on anything fancy, especially after spending so much on costumes and such, but nothing's too good for guests, as we realized when they brought out the second helping of ice cream, after the mtsvadi, khinkali, cake, pre-cake, khachapuri, mchadi, eggplant, cherry, strawberry, chicken, sulguni cheese, pizza, and tomato-cucumber salad with walnut courses had concluded. Please refer to what I said here about what I'd do if the community coughed up a big supra after pleading bankruptcy when we were searching for contributions to our library project. Nonetheless, it was impressive.
Snow White, like I said, came out in a most adorable manner, and the children were very put off by the manner in which I squealed every time I saw them in their cute little costumes. Here we have the seven dwarves, clothed inexplicably in neon green tunics, metallic red bloomers, and Santa Claus hats. The little kid hamming it up is my neighbor Robiko, who was so moved by his own performance that he and his friends spent the next day making a 6-part movie with their camera phone (p.s. which has better resolution than my camera-camera) about a thief who kills someone's wife and then is caught with drugs and killed by a policeman.
Check out this 30-second clip, their dress rehearsal rendition of the pivotal scene when they discover Snow White is dead and they kill the queen. Pretend that Snow White is playing dead instead of giving orders from her deathbed. Props to Doc Dwarf (the tubby one) and the Queen for their SAG-worthy performances.
The amazing success of the play was followed up by a series of poems and songs, ranging from Byron and Shakespeare to "Under Da Sea" and "Supercalifragilisticexpielidocious," to "Sway" by the Pussycat Dolls and the spiritual "Do Lord." Each was met with wild applause, or at least polite clapping.
Sensing that I had not made enough of an ass of myself, the children magically became littler and cuter, resulting in a performance of traditional dances from the region of Ratcha by the 3rd grade class. If I've uploaded the video, then you should check it out because: a) it's really short, and b) they're really short.
In the end, however, my favorite dance is and always will be the Ajaran dance, or acharuli (mayhaps atcharuli or ajaruli). Every kid in this video is my 6th grade student, and I had a big stupid grin on my face the whole time I watched them. I should mention that this video was taken during the dress rehearsal and that Robiko did not dress in street clothes for his grand solo at the actual performance. He also held an instrument in his hand instead of miming it.
Last but not least, the national anthems. They had learned "America, America" instead of "The Star-Spangled Banner," but being that the latter is full of antiquated language and has a more difficult melody (not to mention that it's about war and bombs, as my liberal friends would point out), we left it as is.
While I'm beyond relieved that the school year was over, I'm going to miss my students. It sounds lame, and perhaps it is lame, but they were the only reason I didn't switch schools. I hope I run into them a million times this summer, and I'm certain that I'll receive ten billion texts from them before July 17th. In the meantime, here's a series of pictures of them looking cute. If you like these 10% as much as I do, then it was worth uploading them. If not, I've wasted your time, and I apologize for being a groupie of my own students.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Coffee with Iconoclasts
Like I mentioned earlier, it feels like some of my best and closest connections with community members are happening now, which is lame, frankly, seeing as I have 27 days left in which to cultivate these relationships. Today I went to the house of a new friend of mine who helped me in a project I worked on. I expected the usual coffee, cookies, and bland conversation about soap operas and the exploits of neighbors. Tatia*, if you're reading this, I apologize!
Background information: ever since arrival, I've been inundated with so many stories about how great life was during the Soviet Union in Georgia that I was starting to believe it (though perhaps not, if the testimonial of two people is enough for me to reverse everything I've been told by everyone else). I heard about how everybody had cars and central heat, how the schools produced a highly literate and cultural crop of little Marxistettes, how those who wished could hop around the countries of the USSR on the cheap.
One of the first things Tatia and her sister told me that made me sit up straight was that their father was a Soviet dissident who was sentenced to prison time in Siberia. Apparently he contracted an illness there that killed him soon after, but his legacy lives on in their house full of forbidden books, including a 19th century Bible in Georgian that he had purchased. It also lives on in the off-beat thinking that both of his daughters exhibit.
Side note: I'm not implying that because they agree about some things that this makes them more intelligent than others. Some things we disagree about-- such as whether Chinese people should live in Georgia-- but it's really nice to meet people who will feed me something other than the party line.
Here's a selection of surprising things that Tatia and her sister expressed (disclaimer: these are their opinions and not necessarily mine):
- If they were in Peace Corps and they could choose any country to work in, it would be Kenya.
- Bile-filled criticism of the effectiveness and integrity of a certain local public servant
- The only people who prospered during Soviet times were thieves, especially in Georgia which was the most corrupt.
- Georgia is not ready for US-style democracy; what it really needs now is small business development.
- It would be better if more foreigners lived in Georgia.
Et cetera. It made for fascinating conversation that resulted in my arriving home 3 hours late, despite the fact that my host father is in town and he expects me to be a good Georgian daughter who stays home and fetches him forks and napkins and ash trays when he asks. He returns to Moscow the day after tomorrow.
In any case, the point of all this is that there were very interesting, English-speaking (what, did you think I would understand a conversation about political dissidence in Georgian?) people living literally five minutes away from me and I piddled away the opportunity to make friends with them by... by... well, I don't know what I was doing instead, but it wasn't actively searching out friends in the community. Shame on me. Shame on me forever.
* Tatia's name is not really Tatia, but I changed it because it seemed like the thing to do.
Background information: ever since arrival, I've been inundated with so many stories about how great life was during the Soviet Union in Georgia that I was starting to believe it (though perhaps not, if the testimonial of two people is enough for me to reverse everything I've been told by everyone else). I heard about how everybody had cars and central heat, how the schools produced a highly literate and cultural crop of little Marxistettes, how those who wished could hop around the countries of the USSR on the cheap.
One of the first things Tatia and her sister told me that made me sit up straight was that their father was a Soviet dissident who was sentenced to prison time in Siberia. Apparently he contracted an illness there that killed him soon after, but his legacy lives on in their house full of forbidden books, including a 19th century Bible in Georgian that he had purchased. It also lives on in the off-beat thinking that both of his daughters exhibit.
Side note: I'm not implying that because they agree about some things that this makes them more intelligent than others. Some things we disagree about-- such as whether Chinese people should live in Georgia-- but it's really nice to meet people who will feed me something other than the party line.
Here's a selection of surprising things that Tatia and her sister expressed (disclaimer: these are their opinions and not necessarily mine):
- If they were in Peace Corps and they could choose any country to work in, it would be Kenya.
- Bile-filled criticism of the effectiveness and integrity of a certain local public servant
- The only people who prospered during Soviet times were thieves, especially in Georgia which was the most corrupt.
- Georgia is not ready for US-style democracy; what it really needs now is small business development.
- It would be better if more foreigners lived in Georgia.
Et cetera. It made for fascinating conversation that resulted in my arriving home 3 hours late, despite the fact that my host father is in town and he expects me to be a good Georgian daughter who stays home and fetches him forks and napkins and ash trays when he asks. He returns to Moscow the day after tomorrow.
In any case, the point of all this is that there were very interesting, English-speaking (what, did you think I would understand a conversation about political dissidence in Georgian?) people living literally five minutes away from me and I piddled away the opportunity to make friends with them by... by... well, I don't know what I was doing instead, but it wasn't actively searching out friends in the community. Shame on me. Shame on me forever.
* Tatia's name is not really Tatia, but I changed it because it seemed like the thing to do.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Another Wedding Post
We have a wedding next door tomorrow. Because some of my blog posts are being held up by my Samtredia-based inability to upload videos, I'm gonna have to write up another lame wedding post. However, since the general themes won't change much ("The bride and groom arrived... and then they DANCED!"), this post will focus on anything and everything that sets this wedding apart from others.
1) They made Jello.
Our fridge, which is plugged in for the first time in months, is full of large trays of Jello made from scratch. I didn't want to get my hopes up when I saw it; I told myself it was the icky jelly stuff that they use in making sandwich cookies, which turns out something like a vanilla-jelly-vomit Oreo. But no-- this is Jello. Made of gelatin. Sure wish I'd known they had that here... though what I would have done with that information is uncertain. Introduced them to Jigglers, perhaps.
2) The kitchen is full of cake.
When I came downstairs yesterday evening after reading issue upon back issue of Newsweek (provided free to volunteers), there was cake everywhere. Cake covering the sink, the washing machine, the counter space, the woodstove, and the fridge. I count 24 layers in all, and considering that a) There's only enough space in the oven to make one layer at a time, and b) They don't have baking powder here so they have to churn air and fluffiness into every batch of batter with raw arm strength. Few expressions stick in my mind like the stare of intense concentration and strain on my host aunt's sweat-beaded face as she mixed cake batter for New Year's.
3) They made creative use of power tools.
Someone had the inspiration to jam a blender fork into a drill. Since it was clearly jammed in and not part of some new line of culinary power drill accessories, I steered clear, but my host mom took the opportunity to drill her cake icing like nobody's business. Then the drill-blender punched a hole through the bowl in this picture a few minutes later.
4) There was a lot of food.
I guess that's nothing new. And it's not unrealistic to expect that 250 wedding guests will eat a lot of food (repeated question of the evening: "Do Americans have wedding supras like this?"). There's not much else I can say about that, but here's a few pictures. What world food crisis?
5) My host sister was the maid of honor.
1) They made Jello.
Our fridge, which is plugged in for the first time in months, is full of large trays of Jello made from scratch. I didn't want to get my hopes up when I saw it; I told myself it was the icky jelly stuff that they use in making sandwich cookies, which turns out something like a vanilla-jelly-vomit Oreo. But no-- this is Jello. Made of gelatin. Sure wish I'd known they had that here... though what I would have done with that information is uncertain. Introduced them to Jigglers, perhaps.
2) The kitchen is full of cake.
When I came downstairs yesterday evening after reading issue upon back issue of Newsweek (provided free to volunteers), there was cake everywhere. Cake covering the sink, the washing machine, the counter space, the woodstove, and the fridge. I count 24 layers in all, and considering that a) There's only enough space in the oven to make one layer at a time, and b) They don't have baking powder here so they have to churn air and fluffiness into every batch of batter with raw arm strength. Few expressions stick in my mind like the stare of intense concentration and strain on my host aunt's sweat-beaded face as she mixed cake batter for New Year's.
3) They made creative use of power tools.
Someone had the inspiration to jam a blender fork into a drill. Since it was clearly jammed in and not part of some new line of culinary power drill accessories, I steered clear, but my host mom took the opportunity to drill her cake icing like nobody's business. Then the drill-blender punched a hole through the bowl in this picture a few minutes later.
4) There was a lot of food.
I guess that's nothing new. And it's not unrealistic to expect that 250 wedding guests will eat a lot of food (repeated question of the evening: "Do Americans have wedding supras like this?"). There's not much else I can say about that, but here's a few pictures. What world food crisis?
5) My host sister was the maid of honor.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
My Student's Village
Last evening, I gave into the pestering of one of my sixth-graders and went to visit her family in their village, the name of which escapes me now. We're off to a great start.
It was a lot less socially strenuous than I thought it would be. In the first place, while I expected to be surrounded by fifteen men pounding shots of kerosene/vodka, there was actually no supra that night. Instead, my sixth grader, her ten-year-old sister and I could sit back with a glass of dry red wine like cultured people.
The family also had a penchant for the traditional-- they made cornbread using clay pots that they heated over a fire, with leaves on either side of the dough to keep it from burning, for one thing. We also made a side trip to this old grinder thing. I suppose it has a more elegant name than grinder thing, but that's what it does. Water goes in, wheel spins, corn goes in, corn meal comes out. Magic!
Furthermore, the whole trip turned out to be a lot more touristy and enlightening than I expected. This is mostly because it was set in the exotic and historically-relevant locale of...
VANI!
Once you catch your breath, I'll explain. Vani is the "new" name for the ancient city of Colchis, where Jason and his Argonauts went looking for the golden fleece. These days Vani finds itself a good 50 kilometers inland, but back in the day, it was coastal. What's left of the sea is a large swath of flat land and a few rivers. To commemorate its over 2000-year heritage, there's a museum chock-fulla stuff dug out of the ground that dates back to the 8th century BC. This is, of course, bits of clay and bronze that look like they were handcrafted by 3rd graders, but the later stuff is cooler and more recognizable. Especially the gold, except for all the good gold items-- crowns, necklaces, the like-- have been bought by other museums in Tbilisi, Europe and America. I did see a 3rd-century glass bead shaped like a dolphin, which bumped this museum to the top of my list.
And in between riding around in a 1960s Volga and roasting meat on a skewer, I made a mental collection of quotes to put in this blog post. It has been suggested that living every moment for the purpose of blogging is lame, but with 33 days left, it's too late for me to change.
"I won't play the drums until I get really drunk."
- the hosts' 7-year-old son, explaining his musical shyness
"This is like a dream... I can't believe Jeni is in my village!"
- Salome, my 6th grade student, whose dreams apparently don't aim very high
"Are there beautiful places in America, too?"
- Nata, the host aunt, who gets cool props for being from Uzbekistan
It was a lot less socially strenuous than I thought it would be. In the first place, while I expected to be surrounded by fifteen men pounding shots of kerosene/vodka, there was actually no supra that night. Instead, my sixth grader, her ten-year-old sister and I could sit back with a glass of dry red wine like cultured people.
The family also had a penchant for the traditional-- they made cornbread using clay pots that they heated over a fire, with leaves on either side of the dough to keep it from burning, for one thing. We also made a side trip to this old grinder thing. I suppose it has a more elegant name than grinder thing, but that's what it does. Water goes in, wheel spins, corn goes in, corn meal comes out. Magic!
Furthermore, the whole trip turned out to be a lot more touristy and enlightening than I expected. This is mostly because it was set in the exotic and historically-relevant locale of...
VANI!
Once you catch your breath, I'll explain. Vani is the "new" name for the ancient city of Colchis, where Jason and his Argonauts went looking for the golden fleece. These days Vani finds itself a good 50 kilometers inland, but back in the day, it was coastal. What's left of the sea is a large swath of flat land and a few rivers. To commemorate its over 2000-year heritage, there's a museum chock-fulla stuff dug out of the ground that dates back to the 8th century BC. This is, of course, bits of clay and bronze that look like they were handcrafted by 3rd graders, but the later stuff is cooler and more recognizable. Especially the gold, except for all the good gold items-- crowns, necklaces, the like-- have been bought by other museums in Tbilisi, Europe and America. I did see a 3rd-century glass bead shaped like a dolphin, which bumped this museum to the top of my list.
And in between riding around in a 1960s Volga and roasting meat on a skewer, I made a mental collection of quotes to put in this blog post. It has been suggested that living every moment for the purpose of blogging is lame, but with 33 days left, it's too late for me to change.
"I won't play the drums until I get really drunk."
- the hosts' 7-year-old son, explaining his musical shyness
"This is like a dream... I can't believe Jeni is in my village!"
- Salome, my 6th grade student, whose dreams apparently don't aim very high
"Are there beautiful places in America, too?"
- Nata, the host aunt, who gets cool props for being from Uzbekistan
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Dear Trainees...
Very, very soon, the new volunteers will arrive. If you're reading this, perhaps you yourself are a new volunteer who's in his/her last week before hopping on the plane to staging. I just received your training schedule from my training manager. You'll be in training for ten weeks. He wants me to help you when you arrive; maybe he'd like it if I taught one or two classes for you on safety and security, or on medical issues. Unfortunately, I can't help you.
I was once in your shoes. That goes without saying. I was absolutely terrified that I would be dumped in a remote village without any language or cultural knowledge; what seemed romantic and adventurous when I signed up was slowly evolving into a reality that scared me to death. I no longer had the inclination to travel to foreign lands, especially not if it meant leaving my family, friends and boyfriend for two whole years with no guarantee of regular communication. I feared that everyone else would be more prepared than I was-- that they had already memorized the Georgian alphabet, or that they were proficient in wilderness survival measures, or that they were all certain in their bleeding hearts that Peace Corps was the right choice for them and I was the only one who had any doubts.
I got off the bus and met my host family with the same sense of panic that you will have.
I sat in language classes for hours on end, like you will.
I pretended to listen to repetitive information sessions at hub day, just like you might.
I received my site placement with the same feeling of anticipation and anxiety that you will have.
So you'd think that I'd be in an excellent position to give you moral support in your time of monumental change. The problem is, I've been here too long. This is not to say that the reason I can't help you is because I know everything about Georgia; far from it. The problem is that I've forgotten what I learned. I don't understand when you ask questions about whether Georgia has snow, even though I asked the same thing. I can't believe you'd ask whether there's enough electricity to run a laptop, even though our group got 10,000 different answers to that question when we asked. It boggles my mind when you ask whether there's dry cleaning... well, come on. That's just stupid. But we asked that too.
Everything I say to you would sound negative and resigned, much as this post probably does. To me, it's just straightforward, but to you, it's pure, unadulterated cynicism, which an upcoming volunteer has no patience for. Nor should you. Who needs a cynical volunteer who hasn't even started working yet? Where would you go from there?
Thus, it is my recommendation that you ask the G7s for help. I noticed already that Peace Corps has been forwarding your emails to them instead of us; perhaps they had problems with G1s trying to disillusion the G3s. In any case, it's for the best. This, of course, doesn't apply to Sara, the volunteer leader who has transcended the label of G6 and become some kind of mega-volunteer who is all the assistance you'll ever need. But don't ask the other G6s. We may:
- give a condescending answer that begins with "some day you'll..."
- laugh
- respond with the number of days left in our service
Et cetera. I'm sorry for this; I truly am. I apologize in advance if I do happen to bring my COS-crazed mind into your vicinity. And just for the record, you could probably ask any departing G6 if they regret joining Peace Corps, and they will say no emphatically. So bear that in mind, and good luck!
Dry cleaning? Seriously?
I was once in your shoes. That goes without saying. I was absolutely terrified that I would be dumped in a remote village without any language or cultural knowledge; what seemed romantic and adventurous when I signed up was slowly evolving into a reality that scared me to death. I no longer had the inclination to travel to foreign lands, especially not if it meant leaving my family, friends and boyfriend for two whole years with no guarantee of regular communication. I feared that everyone else would be more prepared than I was-- that they had already memorized the Georgian alphabet, or that they were proficient in wilderness survival measures, or that they were all certain in their bleeding hearts that Peace Corps was the right choice for them and I was the only one who had any doubts.
I got off the bus and met my host family with the same sense of panic that you will have.
I sat in language classes for hours on end, like you will.
I pretended to listen to repetitive information sessions at hub day, just like you might.
I received my site placement with the same feeling of anticipation and anxiety that you will have.
So you'd think that I'd be in an excellent position to give you moral support in your time of monumental change. The problem is, I've been here too long. This is not to say that the reason I can't help you is because I know everything about Georgia; far from it. The problem is that I've forgotten what I learned. I don't understand when you ask questions about whether Georgia has snow, even though I asked the same thing. I can't believe you'd ask whether there's enough electricity to run a laptop, even though our group got 10,000 different answers to that question when we asked. It boggles my mind when you ask whether there's dry cleaning... well, come on. That's just stupid. But we asked that too.
Everything I say to you would sound negative and resigned, much as this post probably does. To me, it's just straightforward, but to you, it's pure, unadulterated cynicism, which an upcoming volunteer has no patience for. Nor should you. Who needs a cynical volunteer who hasn't even started working yet? Where would you go from there?
Thus, it is my recommendation that you ask the G7s for help. I noticed already that Peace Corps has been forwarding your emails to them instead of us; perhaps they had problems with G1s trying to disillusion the G3s. In any case, it's for the best. This, of course, doesn't apply to Sara, the volunteer leader who has transcended the label of G6 and become some kind of mega-volunteer who is all the assistance you'll ever need. But don't ask the other G6s. We may:
- give a condescending answer that begins with "some day you'll..."
- laugh
- respond with the number of days left in our service
Et cetera. I'm sorry for this; I truly am. I apologize in advance if I do happen to bring my COS-crazed mind into your vicinity. And just for the record, you could probably ask any departing G6 if they regret joining Peace Corps, and they will say no emphatically. So bear that in mind, and good luck!
Dry cleaning? Seriously?
Sunday, June 08, 2008
A boring post about international relations theory that you shouldn't read unless absolutely interested
After reading Chuck Klosterman, I would guess that most people retain some overanalytical effluvium in their brains for at least twenty minutes or so, which is where we find me now (side note: most of the quality books from the Peace Corps library have returned to circulation after spending months upon months holed up in the bedrooms of a few select volunteers who never even cracked open the cover, but never mind that). I imagine most people would take advantage of this temporary boost in insightfulness to debunk some of Mr Klosterman's views on the human condition, or to disagree with his position on the Celtics-Lakers rivalry of the 80s as representing Republicans and Democrats, but that has no place here. Not only is it irrelevant to Georgia, but it is so 2004.
And now onto something completely different: international relations theory. Feel free to stop reading now; you can always go here if you prefer a post filled with pictures. Before this starts, let's just put out a disclaimer that the author of this post feels that IR theory is totally and completely useless, which is why she turned down the offer of the Rhodes committee to study IR at Oxford for two stipend-filled years, even though they were begging and pleading at her feet. The problem with IR theory is the same problem with diets, in that one comes into fashion, is religiously followed for a few years, and then is found to be the cause of a whole new set of problems that can only be solved by a new fad diet or ivory tower political prescription. Atkins chokes up your arteries as it tries to cut your carbohydrates, neoliberal economic austerity measures kick your nation's industrial sector in the balls as they try to cut your debt.
The main question here is this: do domestic politics matter in international relations? And once again, seriously, if you're uninterested in international relations, you should stop reading now. Not kidding.
Anyway, what brought this up was the Georgian parliamentary elections last Wednesday. Whilst I was on house arrest for my own safety, the rest of the nation was casting their ballots in an election that was moved up from its original autumn 2008 date by a referendum in January. This was supposed to be a way for the opposition to have a chance to establish a significant presence in the Parliament earlier on so the president wouldn't have three seasons of free rein. To achieve this end, approximately four billion opposition parties floated their candidates for election. I nearly had a heart attack and died when the public votes supporting the opposition were scattered among multiple candidates, allowing the majority party to keep that title. Surely such a paradox has never before occurred, and perhaps we will never know the full reasons behind this phenomenon.
In any case, it brings us to a question oft raised in IR circles, or at least I assume that it is since I am not a part of any: do domestic politics matter on the international scene? First answer: God, I hope not. Domestic politics are inherently boring to me, as they're just one step closer to state senators and county commissioners wrangling over new bridge construction and zoning ordinances... which someone has to take care of, but that person is not me. Populist I am not. Second answer: Of course it matters. How could it not matter that the Georgian people can storm Rustaveli in the thousands whenever they want and trigger new presidential and parliamentary elections? Part of what got Misha into trouble last November was the perception that he was reacting to the wants of the international community more than the needs of his constituency. No president is an island, or something like that.
Reluctant answer three: Maybe it doesn't matter. As anyone in the US who has the misfortune to get into a Skype conversation with me will tell you, my life revolves around Georgia. OBVIOUSLY. But I still understand why people find it annoying. That same part of me that revels in the ups and downs of Georgian news, the part of me whose permission to leave Samtredia depends on whether or not the Christian Democrats have decided to protest in Kutaisi that day, can't imagine that none of this matters outside the border.
And of course, I'm not referring to whether it makes the news in the US because nothing makes the news in the US. My friend told me the podcast from his town's local newscast had a segment about the tornadoes that killed 5 people which was times longer than the segment on the earthquake in China and typhoon in Myanmar that killed thousands. To be fair, the Georgian news covers mostly Georgia, which makes me suspicious that perhaps in terms of square mileage of interest zone, the US wins. Are European networks spending 20 minutes on Hu Jintao's visit to Japan, or are they covering the events of four neighboring countries that are about as far apart as Ohio is from Maryland? I'm just saying.
I'm asking if it affects other countries when Georgia has a snap election. In this case, both snap elections resulted in a continuation of the status quo, so the answer is definitely no. But I wonder if anyone was waiting for the parliamentary election results with bated breath other than the guys who lost it. How does it affect the UK if the Labor Party gets a significant minority stake in the house? Does a blip go off on a radar at the NSA when the Georgian speaker of Parliament announces that she's stepping down?
Now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if maybe the obvious answer I should have thought of before I started this post was that the Parliament/Congress/Duma/Diet elections don't matter to other countries unless the legislative branch significantly affects the power of the President/Prime Minister to decide. Great. Glad I spent 1,000 words reaching that conclusion. But it sounded academic and insightful for a while there, didn't it?
Maybe I don't like IR theory because I suck at it.
And now onto something completely different: international relations theory. Feel free to stop reading now; you can always go here if you prefer a post filled with pictures. Before this starts, let's just put out a disclaimer that the author of this post feels that IR theory is totally and completely useless, which is why she turned down the offer of the Rhodes committee to study IR at Oxford for two stipend-filled years, even though they were begging and pleading at her feet. The problem with IR theory is the same problem with diets, in that one comes into fashion, is religiously followed for a few years, and then is found to be the cause of a whole new set of problems that can only be solved by a new fad diet or ivory tower political prescription. Atkins chokes up your arteries as it tries to cut your carbohydrates, neoliberal economic austerity measures kick your nation's industrial sector in the balls as they try to cut your debt.
The main question here is this: do domestic politics matter in international relations? And once again, seriously, if you're uninterested in international relations, you should stop reading now. Not kidding.
Anyway, what brought this up was the Georgian parliamentary elections last Wednesday. Whilst I was on house arrest for my own safety, the rest of the nation was casting their ballots in an election that was moved up from its original autumn 2008 date by a referendum in January. This was supposed to be a way for the opposition to have a chance to establish a significant presence in the Parliament earlier on so the president wouldn't have three seasons of free rein. To achieve this end, approximately four billion opposition parties floated their candidates for election. I nearly had a heart attack and died when the public votes supporting the opposition were scattered among multiple candidates, allowing the majority party to keep that title. Surely such a paradox has never before occurred, and perhaps we will never know the full reasons behind this phenomenon.
In any case, it brings us to a question oft raised in IR circles, or at least I assume that it is since I am not a part of any: do domestic politics matter on the international scene? First answer: God, I hope not. Domestic politics are inherently boring to me, as they're just one step closer to state senators and county commissioners wrangling over new bridge construction and zoning ordinances... which someone has to take care of, but that person is not me. Populist I am not. Second answer: Of course it matters. How could it not matter that the Georgian people can storm Rustaveli in the thousands whenever they want and trigger new presidential and parliamentary elections? Part of what got Misha into trouble last November was the perception that he was reacting to the wants of the international community more than the needs of his constituency. No president is an island, or something like that.
Reluctant answer three: Maybe it doesn't matter. As anyone in the US who has the misfortune to get into a Skype conversation with me will tell you, my life revolves around Georgia. OBVIOUSLY. But I still understand why people find it annoying. That same part of me that revels in the ups and downs of Georgian news, the part of me whose permission to leave Samtredia depends on whether or not the Christian Democrats have decided to protest in Kutaisi that day, can't imagine that none of this matters outside the border.
And of course, I'm not referring to whether it makes the news in the US because nothing makes the news in the US. My friend told me the podcast from his town's local newscast had a segment about the tornadoes that killed 5 people which was times longer than the segment on the earthquake in China and typhoon in Myanmar that killed thousands. To be fair, the Georgian news covers mostly Georgia, which makes me suspicious that perhaps in terms of square mileage of interest zone, the US wins. Are European networks spending 20 minutes on Hu Jintao's visit to Japan, or are they covering the events of four neighboring countries that are about as far apart as Ohio is from Maryland? I'm just saying.
I'm asking if it affects other countries when Georgia has a snap election. In this case, both snap elections resulted in a continuation of the status quo, so the answer is definitely no. But I wonder if anyone was waiting for the parliamentary election results with bated breath other than the guys who lost it. How does it affect the UK if the Labor Party gets a significant minority stake in the house? Does a blip go off on a radar at the NSA when the Georgian speaker of Parliament announces that she's stepping down?
Now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if maybe the obvious answer I should have thought of before I started this post was that the Parliament/Congress/Duma/Diet elections don't matter to other countries unless the legislative branch significantly affects the power of the President/Prime Minister to decide. Great. Glad I spent 1,000 words reaching that conclusion. But it sounded academic and insightful for a while there, didn't it?
Maybe I don't like IR theory because I suck at it.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Teaching of Russian as a Foreign Language
As the school year winds to a painfully protracted close, I had the pleasure of attending my first Ghria Gakvetili ("open lesson"), in which a bevy of teachers dutifully piles into the classroom of another school's language class and observes their compatriot giving a lesson.
You'd think the purpose would be to transfer teaching methods and demonstrate new ways to instill an education in the minds of the Georgian youth. Actually, an open lesson here seems to be no different from an open lesson anywhere-- it's an opportunity to show off what the kids learned and how well-behaved they are. Because of this, I was smothered in a cloud of my own cynicism and disbelief throughout the entire session, a condition exacerbated by the fact that it was a Russian lesson and I don't speak Russky.
The children all sat up perfectly straight, each in matching uniforms. They all raised their hands for every question, and none of them talked between questions. This is where I note that the entire lesson was pretty much a Q&A session led by the teacher, to the tune of: "What is this?" or "What are the days of the week?" followed by the answer, which was then followed by a repeat of the answer by five or six more students to check their pronunciation.
TEFL training taught us that the Soviets were really into teaching English as far as it pertained to perfect pronunciation, as well as the ability to read and translate well. Thus, many of the students here cannot hold up their end of a conversation to save their lives, but they have vast multi-stanza Byron poems memorized. Therefore, seeing the students stand up and recite answers that were clearly practiced beforehand was not at all impressive, and was actually really depressing.
However, there were some things to remember:
1) Their teacher is actually really, really good and exclusively speaks Russian at the lesson. While sitting there and not understanding a word, I concocted the theory that maybe she was conducting such a bland, Soviet lesson to please the parents and other schools' directors, and that as soon as we left she would divide the class into fours for small-group discussion.
2) The students had cute little red flags that they held up when one of their classmates made a mistake, and cute little green flags that they held up when they could offer a synonym to an answer their classmate gave. The red flags probably scare the speakers into thinking over their words for an excessive amount of time before voicing them, something that's hard to unlearn, but they were adorable.
3) Thus concluded the last Monday in which I will ever be in a Georgian school. 45 days left.
You'd think the purpose would be to transfer teaching methods and demonstrate new ways to instill an education in the minds of the Georgian youth. Actually, an open lesson here seems to be no different from an open lesson anywhere-- it's an opportunity to show off what the kids learned and how well-behaved they are. Because of this, I was smothered in a cloud of my own cynicism and disbelief throughout the entire session, a condition exacerbated by the fact that it was a Russian lesson and I don't speak Russky.
The children all sat up perfectly straight, each in matching uniforms. They all raised their hands for every question, and none of them talked between questions. This is where I note that the entire lesson was pretty much a Q&A session led by the teacher, to the tune of: "What is this?" or "What are the days of the week?" followed by the answer, which was then followed by a repeat of the answer by five or six more students to check their pronunciation.
TEFL training taught us that the Soviets were really into teaching English as far as it pertained to perfect pronunciation, as well as the ability to read and translate well. Thus, many of the students here cannot hold up their end of a conversation to save their lives, but they have vast multi-stanza Byron poems memorized. Therefore, seeing the students stand up and recite answers that were clearly practiced beforehand was not at all impressive, and was actually really depressing.
However, there were some things to remember:
1) Their teacher is actually really, really good and exclusively speaks Russian at the lesson. While sitting there and not understanding a word, I concocted the theory that maybe she was conducting such a bland, Soviet lesson to please the parents and other schools' directors, and that as soon as we left she would divide the class into fours for small-group discussion.
2) The students had cute little red flags that they held up when one of their classmates made a mistake, and cute little green flags that they held up when they could offer a synonym to an answer their classmate gave. The red flags probably scare the speakers into thinking over their words for an excessive amount of time before voicing them, something that's hard to unlearn, but they were adorable.
3) Thus concluded the last Monday in which I will ever be in a Georgian school. 45 days left.
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