I always start out every blog entry with an apology for not updating this more often. Its serioulsy been like a year. I'm alive, I've been busy, etc. This is not an apology. My life is generally pretty boring and I'm generally pretty lazy, so there you go. Instead of a life update, I figured tourist season is approaching quickly, so it might be a good idea to let everyone in on some tricks of the trade when it comes to visiting Ksamil.

When to Visit:

From May to September the weather is usually good enough for swimming. I would generally try to avoid August, the busiest time.

Getting to Ksamil:

Step 1-Get to Saranda

Step 2- From the main bus station in Saranda walk towards the Sea. The Ksamil bus stop is directly across from the synagogue ruins.

Step 3 - Wait for a Bus. The permanent bus schedule is 7, 9, 11, 1, 3, and 5. Busses leave Butrint on even hours last bus at 6. Ksamil is on the Saranda-Butrint route. There are usually more busses, one running every hour in the morning, but these can be a gamble. There are also random furgons at random times. If a bus/furgon says Qafe Bote or Konispol, it will also take you to Ksamil/Butrint.

***Notice step 3 is "wait for a bus" it is NOT "get a taxi." The tourist taxi price is 1,000 leke. The bus is 100 leke to Butrint and 80 to Ksamil. I guess if you want to get a taxi, its your prerogative, but you've been warned. If you really, really need a taxi walk down to the taxi stand across from the Hotel Butrinti in Saranda. The taxis there are generally cheaper, but no promises.

Before you get to Ksamil:

Go to the bank. Also, if you want, buy me presents. But, seriously, go to the bank. In theory we have a bank in Ksamil. As of now, the ATM has never worked. Not for one minute. So, bring money. You're going to love Ksamil so much that you're going to want to stay longer. That's just how it is. Plan ahead.

Once you're in Ksamil:

Where to Stay: If you're not staying with me, I reccomend you stay at Tani's Guest House. Its on Hostelword.com. Tani is pimp, plain and simple, and speaks fluent English. Tani's is located off of the third square. Its the last bus stop in Ksamil, at the Tirana Bank. From the bank, walk west and turn left on the dirt road between Bar Ledio and Hotel Joni.

Where to beach: The beaches all over Ksamil are great. I have my favorites, though. The Tre-Ishjut beach is my second home in the summer. To get there: get off at the Tirana Bank, walk west up the hill, past the post office. Turn right on the first paved road. Turn left on the last road, by the cultural center. Not the paved road, the dirt one. Continue west until you hit sand. Throughout Ksamil, beach chairs run 200 leke for the day and dolphin paddle boats 600 leke an hour. Other beach locations are on a need to know basis. If I run into you in Ksamil, you can ask. If you have a car and will take me with you, I'll tell.

Where to eat: All the beach-side cafes are good. My favorites are the Tre-Ishjut (don't miss the mussels in the shell...ah-maz-ing) Belinda restaurant, just north of the tre-ishjut and the restaurant just north of Belinda's, at the begining of the promenade. I can't remember its actual name, but the food is awesome. At night, Papi's at the Hotel Joni is a favorite and Pizzeria Xheni across from Hotel Joni is also good. I happen to not recommend the boat restaurant floating out next to one of the islands.

Where to drink: Tani's bar. See above directions to Tani's Guest House. There are two or three discos in Ksamil. That's not really my thing, so I stay away. If that is your thing, I recommend you stay in Saranda and go to the big discos there.

I think it goes without being said, but this is the internet, so I'll say it: These are just my opinions. I'm obviously biased and want to promote the businesses and business owners that have been good to me over the last two years. This is in no way a complete list of all the good things/places/etc in Ksamil. Just a few good natured suggestions.

See you this summer!

Hey guys. Its been awhile, huh? I have absolutely NO excuses for not updating this blog. I mean, I can think of a few...but I do generally feel guilty about the lack of amazing, exciting, dramatic, awe-inspiring stories posted of late (Ok, of ever). While I promise that none of the previously mentioned adjectives will apply to this update...I will let you in on what I've been up to for the last month or two.

May started with a little weekend adventure to eastern Albania. (If you have your atlas handy, Pogradec and Korca) I went on the Matura trip (translation: Senior trip) with the high school students. Traditionally, only seniors go on this trip, but since we only have, like, 15 seniors, the whole high school was invited. About 35 students, 3 teachers, 2 fiances (2 late 20's guys engaged to 2 of my 18 year old students. CREEPY. ) and one peace corps volunteer set off early one Saturday morning on quite the ambitious trip. We spent a total of 27 hours on the bus and 24 hours 'vacationing.' It was a disaster from my point of view, because...well, I'm American and like 'order' and 'plans,' but the kids had fun and I had fun hanging out with them.

The next weekend I took a small group of students back east for Outdoor Ambassador Camp. We had a blast. Outdoor Ambassadors is our after-school environmental club. The camp was wonderful, we played games, did some rock climbing, a ropes course, trust falls...the whole shebang. My kids got to meet and make friends from all over the country, which was fantastic. Despite the stress of coordinating the travel and the parents and my grumpy school director (who, seriously, called while we were en route to inform us that he was calling the police on me for kidnapping! The situation was quickly resolved, btw. I'm still a free woman) OA camp was for sure a highlight of my service thus far.

I have been travelling non-stop it seems, and was up in Tirana the next weekend for what I thought would be a nice break. At least I was travelling without kids, you know? I was up for my mid-service doctor/dentist appt. (No cavities!) but had to cut my weekend short when I was informe that I was giving a presentation to the new trainees in Elbasan at the last minute. Although I was kind of bummed that I had to leave Tirana early, it was good to meet some of the new PC faces and share a bit of my 'expertise.'

That about flushes out May. This is getting long, so we'll save June for next time. Stay tuned for Meghan goes to Romania, alternatively titled: Meghan looses all her money and is sold into white slavery.

I'm only half joking.

Look look look!

http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2009/apr/26/backpacking-best-holidays-albania-beaches

I live on the third page, in a village between Saranda and Butrint. Do you need any more incentive to come visit?

Its finally happening. Finally. Finally. Finally. I finally feel like I’m actually starting to get things accomplished. Mind you, I didn’t say that I have actually accomplished anything…but I’m feeling that things are definitely on their way, which is more positive than I’ve felt about my work…well…ever.

I’ll save the details of my projects for when they’re actually on the road to completion, but suffice to say, things are looking up.

Otherwise, its been a busy few weeks for this volunteer. The week before last was teacher week and as such, classes were shortened every day so we could have an assembly of sorts all together. One day the kids performed songs, the next they recited poetry, and so on. The kids love performing, and like everything here; it was a competition, which they really enjoyed. March 7th was the official teachers’ day, which fell on a Saturday. So, Friday was a party day. (Because, really, what better way to honor your teachers than to terrorize them by being hyped up on candy and loud music?)

My ‘homeroom’ class is by default the 6th grade class because that is my counterpart’s homeroom class. I don’t usually have classes with them because of my relative incompetence when it comes to explaining things in Albanian and their incompetence when it comes to speaking English. (Ok, ok, they’re like 10, I guess they have an excuse.) Anyway, Friday was a horrible thunder-stormy day and my counterpart didn’t want to come to Ksamil, leaving me to helm the party alone. Thankfully, the glee of 10 year-olds around loud music and candy breaks down all language barriers. We had a wonderful time circle dancing and signing. They also showered me with presents per the teachers’ day tradition.

So, funny story: I caught one of the 6th class boys with a beer. How a 10 year old gets a hold of a beer, I don’t know. Why he would think it would be ok the bring it to school, I don’t know. But, even more alarming, why none of the other ADULTS cared, I seriously have no idea. I’ll give them credit, though. They pretended to care, for my benefit…as I was obviously distressed, but, no academy awards will be given out for their performances.

Moving on, after the 6th class party, I was forced to make an appearance at the high school party, held at the bar/café (all café’s in Albania also serve alcohol) next to the school. As a rule, I try to avoid all party situations with the high school kids because its hard enough for me to assert any kind of authority as it is. The last thing I need is to cavort with them on a social level. Anyway, I ended up at the bar, picture evidence is below:

Notice the smoking, the alcohol and the dancing. Its 10:30 in the morning. Let me repeat: 10:30 in the morning. In all fairness, I would not have been any more comfortable if it were 10:30 at night, but in some tiny way, I would have felt it more appropriate. I guess I’m just so American and puritan and, I don’t know, up-tight. But, there are just so many levels of inappropriate to be found in this situation…it boggles my mind.

I stayed at the high school party just long enough to say hi and have a coffee. Thankfully, I had to leave to catch the bus to Tirana.

After a looooong 8 hour bus ride to Tirana, I had a wonderful weekend at the Outdoor Ambassador training. It was great to get up to the city and see people. It also happened to be the Georgia volunteers’ ‘6 months in Albania’ anniversary. Everybody, with the exception of Aida and Joe, was in Tirana, so we decided to celebrate. We all dressed up, had a wonderful sushi dinner and went to the Sky Tower for a celebratory drink before meeting up with the other volunteers. Really, it was just a good opportunity for us to dress up. We clean up pretty well, no? Of course you can dress us up and bring us to the big city…but there’s still a little volunteer in us all…check out Allan’s shoes.

The sky tower is like the space needle of Tirana? I don’t know if that’s a good comparison, but it’s a bar at the top of a tall building that rotates. It was really pretty and a nice chance to reflect on how far we’ve come and how Albania has changed us. I’m not sure how much Albania we’ve changed…hopefully we can reflect on that in September.

I’m also a third done with my service. I’ve been in the PC for 9 months now. So much has happened that its hard to believe that just a year ago I hadn’t even gotten my invitation yet and was thinking about giving up on the whole PC thing. I have to say, that despite all the trials and tribulations, I’m really glad I didn’t. I signed up for an adventure…and well, I’ve had one.

So, I don't have any new, interesting things to blog about, but I do have plenty of pictures. Starting with...drum roll...a rare picture of ALL the Georgia transfers...even Travis.

Here are a few pictures from my last trip to Butrint. (By trip I mean, 10 minute jaunt, of course, haha) I really, really need to get on posting something meaningful...or at the very least a little bit informative about Butrint. It is, by far, my favorite thing about Albania.

The font in the middle of the currently covered mosaic. YES. THE mosaic. The largest intact Roman mosaic after the Haiga Sofia in Istanbul.

Katherine, Becky and I (and our gracious guide) at the Bektashi center in Vlore.

View of Vlore from the Bektashi center.

Monument posing in Vlore...Travis is taking these pictures. I swear he was there.That's it for now. Its sunny and almost warm today. I plan to sun myself and hand wash laundry. This is the PC after all.

Quick update: spring has not sprung. Its colder than ever.

That is all.

It’s the beginning of February and it looks like the weather is finally starting to get better. I’m so glad I’m reasonably far south and I’m not looking at a Chicago marathon winter. Chicago marathon winters are ok in Chicago…but with my heating situation as it is (that is to say non-existent) not fun here.

I guess I can consider this spring, so let me say, spring weather here is weird. It rains everyday, usually all night and a little bit during the day. Last night we had a crazy thunderstorm. Perhaps the loudest thunder I have ever heard…and that includes the time Blackstone Hall was actually struck by lightning the summer after sophomore year. My umbrella was owned by the wind and is out of commission. I left it with Courtney in Gjirokaster, as she is collecting them to make re-useable shopping bags with the Gjirokaster women’s group (amazing project, huh? Something easily done in the US too…) I can’t seem to find another (ie I haven’t looked), so I’m using a Seattle umbrella (a hood) for the time being.

Second semester has started off with…not a bang. I was planning on starting my after school clubs this week, but the Gods of logistics apparently aren’t on my side. Now, the logical place to hold an after school English club is, of course, at school, right? I asked about this when I first arrived in Ksamil, in, say, October. My director assured me that it would be no problem and the issue was put to rest. I decided not to start up anything new because I was still in a needs assessment phase (using PACA tools…hey!....cue eye rolling from my PCV readership) and there were so many breaks between November and the end of the year, that it just seemed like a better idea to wait. So, 2009 rolls around, we’re back at school and I inquire about my activities. Its at this point I’m told that, in fact, the school must be locked up promptly at 1:15 everyday, in effect putting the kabash on my activities. Of course.

Have no fear, though, me being the resourceful PCV that I am decided that the cultural center would be just fine. I mean, what is a cultural center for if not to, you know, spread culture, like, maybe, the English language to the youth? My counterpart told me this would not work, as the cultural center is private and you must pay to use it. I figured that my clout as an American, a poor, moneyless volunteer and someone trying to donate my time to the community would supersede anyone’s need for rent. I mean, who asks a volunteer for rent?

I’ll tell you who: the Ksamil Cultural Center.

I would write up the hilarious story of me trying to explain in horrible Shqip what exactly I wanted to do and how I totally couldn’t pay for it, but you’re all getting tired of my stories of incompetence by now, right? And, besides, the story is pretty self-explanatory. I’m the least articulate Shqip speaker in the whole world. Let’s also not forget that the owner of the cultural center is, I believe, a seriously famous Albanian classical musician.

So, yeah, here I am with no after school club. I’m working on it. My senior study group will commence as planned, just in a café instead of a place of learning.

In other important news, Friday was my dear counterpart’s last day at school. Her doctor has put her on bed-rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. This is much sooner than expected. Well, much sooner than I expected. I’m getting a new counterpart from Saranda on Monday.

Its funny, I feel like nothing ever goes on here, but here I am with this ridiculously long blog post about all the interesting developments in the last few weeks. Perhaps the most exciting is the site development that has been taking place in Saranda. If you’ve been following along, you’ve no doubt heard (read?) about my longing for a PCV in Saranda. I’m pretty sure everyone at the PC office in Tirana has also heard (been forced to listen at length?) about this. The good news is that I think it will happen! The TEFL project manager was down here a few days ago scouting things out and there have been some other murmurs of site development in Saranda from the other sectors. Of course nothing is definite…the biggest challenge is finding housing that is suitable and under the PC budget cap…but, its looking good.

If you’re a G12 reading this blog, pray you get placed in Saranda. Seriously.

I also just found out that BJ, who lived with me in Osiauri Cluster in Georgia, will be joining fellow G8’s Adam and Raino here in Albania. Now, every member of Osiauri cluster has been placed in a new country! Katherine in Romania, Alyssa in Paraguay, Michael in Micronesia and BJ and I here! Now, Gomi cluster and Osiauri cluster are going to have to fight it out for Albanian prominence. I absolutely cannot wait until March!

Very rarely do I get a chance to write a blog in 'real time.' I'm in Saranda right now, stealing wireless internet at the Hotel Butrinti. When I was on the bus coming back from Tirana after IST (see last post) I realized that any good hotel must have wireless internet. Indeed the Hotel does. I wish I had realized this earlier.

Anyway, here is the run down (complete with pictures!) of my holiday activities:

On the last day of school before the break holiday parties were thrown at school. Holiday parties in Albania celebrate both Christmas and the New Year. New Years is a much bigger holiday in Albania. I assume this is because its not religious. Holiday parties in Albanian classrooms aren't that different from what I remember in school. Its basically organized chaos. Dancing, singing, junk food, etc. The biggest difference was the presence of lit sparklers (yes. fireworks.) in the classroom. Those, I'm not going to lie, freaked me out. Left: 6th class circle dancing. Right: 6th class group picture with our school director.

After the class party, everyone gathered outside for an 'all school assembly." Where the director and the Mayor of Ksamil announced and handed out gifts to the two best students in each class.

After school, the teachers had a celebratory lunch in Saranda. It was a lot of fun and, in true Albanian fashion, a ton of food! There was also circle dancing at this party, but fortunately, no fireworks.

Left: Lunch, Right: My counterpart and I

On Christmas eve, I attempted to go to Gjirokaster. I did eventually get there, but not until early, early Christmas morning! As I frequently write, most of the time the living is pretty easy in Albania. This notion goes out the window when traveling is concerned. I tried to leave Ksamil on the 1:45 bus, putting me in Saranda around 2:15, with plenty of time to catch the 2:30 bus to Gjirokaster. Of course, it being Christmas eve, the 1:45 bus didn't come. I finally caught a bus out of Ksamil at 2:30. This of course meant that I missed the 2:30 bus to Gjiro. What I didn't know is that the 2:30 bus is THE LAST BUS OUT OF SARANDA. I arrived at the empty bus station around 3. Fantastic. I could either go back to Ksamil and try again on Christmas or wait for the night bus to Tirana, which passes by Gjirokaster and leaves Saranda at 10.

I really didn't have anything to do at home, so I decided to wait it out. I went to the internet cafe, had dinner, sat in a cafe and read; my parents called. It wasn't so bad, but it really wasn't how I wanted to spend my Christmas eve.

The rest of my Christmas visit to Gjirokaster was fantastic, however. We cooked a gigantic meal and ate at Allan's office, which is pretty 'homey' for an office. We also had some visitors from the US, Courtney's Aunt and Uncle were in town. They're incidentally from Bainbridge and showed me some fun pictures of all the unexpected snow back in Seattle.

Cam, Allan, Chris, Courtney, Alexi, Stephie, Becca, Becky and I before Christmas dinner. The day after Christmas, we visited the castle and played board games. Chris and Allan taught Becky and I how to play Risk. The prison at the top of Gjirokaster Castle and The view of Gjirokaster from the top of the castle.

I went back to Ksamil for New Years, which I spent with (ok, and stay with me, this is convoluted) my landlord's sister's family. Besnika, my landlord's sister is a teacher at my school and I give private lessons to her daughter, Klea. They've basically taken me in, kind of like a host family. On New Years eve we had a big dinner with baklava for dessert (yum!) and waited until midnight to shoot off fireworks. It was a really low-key new years, but fun. So, I guess those were the big holiday events. School is back in session now and everything is back to normal. The next big event on my calendar is Katherine's (one of my Osiauri Cluster-mates from Georgia) tentative visit to Albania in February. When I transferred to Albania, she transferred to Romania, so she's in the neighborhood. Other than that, I'm just trying to stay warm!

I told my mom on the phone today that I would be more regular about keeping up my blog, so in keeping my promise, here’s what’s been going on:

Last week was IST (in service training…the Peace Corps is all about acronyms, in keeping with governmental agencies.) It was in Elbasan, in central Albania, which was where the original G11’s did their training. So, they were a little bit over being there. It was all new to the new G11’s (ie. me and the other Georgians) so, the location was not a problem for me. It was really nice to have reliable hot water and heat for a week. I also learned a ton about other people’s projects and had an opportunity to learn a little bit more Shqip. Honestly, though, it was a little overwhelming to be in such a large group for six days. I spend so much time alone here that being with people has become a little foreign.

I’m back in Ksamil now for a week and a half before Christmas. My break doesn’t start until Christmas proper which is a little different than back in the US. New Years is the biggest holiday here, which I’m excited for and have yet to make plans for. For Christmas, I’m going to Gjirokaster, only about 3 hours away. Its much more of an ‘old’ traditional town, more ‘Christmasy’ in spirit than Ksamil. But, like Christmas in the US, its not about the place, its about the people you’re with. I think some of the Georgians are going to come down and the lovely Chris and Courtney will be hosting us. I am so lucky to be so close to such amazing people.

What has really inspired this blog entry has been the ups and downs of Peace Corps service. I thought everything was going pretty well, and then I went to IST. Hearing about all the other volunteers amazing accomplishments kind of got me down a little bit. I have to remember that they’ve been here for 6 months to my 3, so it makes sense, but it was still a little jolting to be faced with. Maybe I was also feeling a little bit jealous of their situations. Most of the other PC volunteers have site mates and live in places much bigger, so they have things. For example, I’m the only volunteer in Albania in a site without even a bank. Additionally, I’m also the farthest away…a whopping 9 hours from Tirana.

I was really getting down on myself and Ksamil as a place. I doubted that I would ever be a good volunteer.

I was feeling not particularly integrated into my community, which is goal one of PC. My language isn’t great (but getting better everyday, I hope) which makes it hard to just go out and meet people. In addition, Ksamil is a tourist place…people see me; they know I don’t belong here, but they don’t really see a reason to get to know me. I’m just another person passing through. Also, the people I work with mostly live in Saranda, so its been a challenge to get to know the Ksamilis.

Yet, despite all this, I recognize that I am so lucky to be here. I really do love Ksamil. I love that it is small and that I will have the opportunity to get to know everyone. I love that I’m the first volunteer in Ksamil and only one here currently, which allows me to take a special kind of ownership in the town. I even love being far away from Tirana, as inconvenient as it is at times. I also love my counterpart who is a wonderful teacher. Some teachers in Albania (and throughout the world…this isn’t a country specific issue) don’t take their profession seriously and just get through the day. My counterpart is the opposite. She is amazing. I am also really lucky to have amazing students. Challenging at times, for sure, but hearing other TEFL war stories at IST really made me appreciate how wonderful my kids are.

So, back to community integration, while I was standing at the bus stop in Saranda, waiting for the Ksamil bus, who walks up but Orreta, the lady who cleans my school and whose house I take Shqip lessons at. She doesn’t speak much English, but it was nice to ride home with somebody and answer questions as to where I’ve been. I felt a little missed…like they actually noticed I was gone, which was really re-assuring. On my walk home one of my neighbors stopped me and also asked where I was. I guess people are finally starting to notice me!

The next day at school, it was wonderful to see my counterpart and check on what the kids had been doing in my absence. They’re still a little wary of me and my weird ways…but they too were happy to see me. Slowly, but surely, I think I am becoming integrated. It just takes time. Which I have to remind myself of…constantly.

Today I woke up with an inexplicable swollen lip. I think it was a mosquito bite. I was dreading going to school today because of it. The language barrier makes even the smallest things gigantic. (On my first night here, I awoke to like 45 mosquito bites ON MY FACE…people are still talking about it). In any event, it just wasn’t as big of a deal as I expected. Then, one of the teachers brought in a letter for me and a package slip. As mentioned before, packages make even the worst days bearable. I was elated.

After school I traveled to Saranda to pick up my package, it turned out there were two. One was from Lindsey, a former G8 in Georgia with me, and one from my parents. The package from my parents was gigantic. Which, quick note, while I accept with open arms all packages without complaint, do remember that I have to carry said packages and take them on the bus with me as well as walk them from the bus. Just something to keep in mind, haha, gigantic packages are a tad cumbersome.

I brought my package home and it looked like Christmas exploded in my apartment. Included were some much needed foodstuffs, Christmas ornaments, some presents which (according to the explicit instructions included by my mother) are to be opened on Christmas day and, perhaps one of the most amazing things I’ve received in my life: A beautifully decorated book with messages from so many members of Kent First Presbyterian.

I cannot convey how amazing this was to read. After kind of having a hard week and a hard day, to open up that book and read all the good wishes was nothing short of inspiring and totally uplifting. I wish I had words to describe how amazing this was. At that moment I only had tears.

And just as I write this, feeling all warm and fuzzy about Albania, the PC, Ksamil, etc, the power goes out. I haven’t made dinner yet. I guess that’s the perfect analogy for how things go here. Just when you’re feeling things are great…a tiny little challenge ruins your evening…and dinner plans.

Oh, and PS. To those readers who are sticklers about grammar. I know, its totally a mish-mash in here and my tense keeps changing. It annoys me too. All the Shqip speaking and working with non-native English speakers has affected my English in horrible, horrible ways.

I’d like to start this blog entry with a quick disclaimer. As previously noted, this blog is written by me and is in no way connected to the American government or the Peace Corps. All the opinions within are mine and not representative of any government, or whatever. I tend to forget that I’m posting my ideas and experiences to the whole world. As, well, that’s how the internet works. This blog is meant to be a way for my friends and family to easily read about my experiences in Albania and wherever else I may be. By putting it up on the internet, I of course, open up my ideas and experiences to a wider audience. I really have no idea why anyone who doesn’t know me would be interested in my reasonably mundane musings on life abroad. (Lets be frank, I don’t think even most of the people who know me would be particularly interested, as my life isn’t particularly interesting and my writing isn’t particularly thoughtful or worthwhile.) But, it has become apparent that the people who this is meant for aren’t the only ones reading.

So, quick note to those not familiar with me or the Peace Corps…politics on the local, national and international level are not something I care to discuss or am really even at liberty to discuss, especially on this forum. Let’s leave it at that…and without further ado:

In my continuing effort to keep this blog up-to-date, here’s well, an update. I’m finally back home in Ksamil. Its really nice to finally be back home. Its rainy here. And by rainy, I mean its monsooning. On Tuesdays, I go to school late, which is usually really nice. Since it was raining…raining hard outside and the power was out, I decided to sleep in. Of course my landlord happened to be in town and dropped by to give me a heater. He always tends to drop by when I’m trying to sleep in…so, again, I answered the door in my pajamas. I think he’s beginning to think all I do is sleep. This, I promise, isn’t all I do.

When I finally did decide to get up and face the rain, I navigated a veritable rushing river on my way to school. I got caught on a mid-road island of rock and needed to be rescued by a gjysha (the Albanian equivalent to grandmother…or just general old lady) herding cows. I wish I wasn’t late for school and could have taken some pictures. The water was intense. This was a very Peace Corps moment. Most of the time, I tend to forget that I’m making any sacrifices. In comparison to Georgia, Albania is pretty ‘posh.’ I have my own apartment, a real flush toilet, electricity most of the time, I shower inside and I can cook my own food. This morning, when I was stuck in my road/river, fresh from no shower because the power was out, I remembered…I am indeed in the Peace Corps and Albania does, indeed, have its challenges…as mundane as they may be in comparison.

There was so much rain that school was cancelled mid-day. I, being from Seattle, kind of find the cancelling of school for rain to be odd…but I can’t say I wasn’t relieved. Since school was cancelled early, I had time to go into Saranda to drop by the bank (yay, I finally have an ATM card!!) and the post office. Despite the bad weather, nothing was going to keep me away from the packages I knew I had waiting at the post office. Seriously, packages are worth their weight in gold. Let me repeat. PACKAGES ARE THE BEST THINGS EVER INVENTED AND I LOVE THEM AND THEIR SENDERS WITH ALL MY HEART. Chris sent me like 5 pairs of shoes from my storage unit in Chicago and some spice packets. Presents like these, by the way, if I haven’t made this clear, are always welcome. I also received a card from Alyssa, filled with the traditional and much appreciated newspaper clippings.

So good news, my address does work.

Its simply:

Meghan Dean

Ksamil, Sarande, Albania

I don’t think you need the Sarande part, so that’s up to your discretion, but it can’t hurt. I think you could probably just put “American, Ksamil” on the package and it would get to me. I’m meeting with one of the program directors this week to perhaps do a little bit of site development in Saranda. I’m praying for an almost-site-mate there. It would make my life so much easier. They haven’t put a TEFL volunteer in Saranda since 1997, when the Volunteer there had to escape via Ferry to Corfu when the country erupted into civil war. His escape is profiled in the History Channel series “Getting out Alive.” If you have a chance to see it, its pretty scary. Well, not for you, warm in your first world home, but for me, after the whole Georgia incident and the such. I watched about a week after I arrived down here, alone in my apartment and I kind of freaked out for a little bit. No, but seriously, Albania is stable and I’m totally safe.

In any event, I would be a lot happier if there were a volunteer in Saranda. Since I have to go to Saranda to get anywhere (its where all the busses are) or do anything (Ksamil is super small, I’m the only Volunteer in Albania without even a bank in my town) it would just make things easier and would mean that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting back to Saranda by 4:30 to catch the last bus to Ksamil. So, go ahead and cross your fingers for me.

I guess that’s it for now. I’m off again next week for Group 11 In Service Training. It’s a little bit silly, since I’ve only been “in service” for like two months, but the Georgians are now part of the Albanian Group 11 and they’ve been here since March. As excited as I always am to see everybody and be around English speakers, I kind of have a lot of work to do here and I think my kids miss me when I’m gone, oh, and 8 hours on a bus isn’t fun. My counterpart is getting more and more pregnant by the day, too, and I like to take as much of the teaching load off her as I can. But, alas, staying in a nice hotel with friends shouldn’t be something I’ve come to dread…oh, wait…there was that month in Armenia…

Oh, and here are a few pictures:

Here is Ksamil from a hill to the south

On the coast facing north, towards Saranda

So, I've been in Albania for almost three months now and I really haven't been updating my blog at all. I know you're all waiting for something...right? Please tell me you're still interested! Well, even if you aren't here's what has been going on in my neck of the woods:

After five weeks in Tirana for a quick and dirty Pre Service Training in everything Albania, I was sent out to my permanent site. I'm in Ksamil, about two miles from the Greek island of Corfu. Its beautiful. Its also super tiny. Especially now, in the winter. There are all kinds of cafes, restaurants, shops, etc., but they're not open now. I can't wait until the warm weather hits to see what my little village is really like. Hopefully I will have lots of visitors. (hint, hint). I really love showing people around Ksamil. Living there everyday, I tend to take the beauty of the place for granted.

Right now, I'm teaching high school in the village's only school. Its pretty tiny, but those kids are a handful. They're keeping me busy for sure. I am enjoying it and learning a ton about Albanian culture and the education system.

What is really hindering me right now is my complete and utter failure at learning the Albanian language. Well, I wouldn't call it a complete and utter failure exactly...I mean, I can get around, travel and buy what I need to...but polite conversation is challenging at best. I just started tutoring sessions twice a week, so things should be coming along.

I'm writing this blog from Tirana, I'm here for Thanksgiving, which was great. It was wonderful to see the other Georgian volunteers again and more of the other Albanian volunteers...oh, and American food was nice too.

I guess those are all the essential updates for now. I'll try to update this blog more often...maybe, if you're lucky, I'll even include some interesting and perhaps humorous anecdotes. I'm always making a fool of myself here...I'm sure everyone in Ksamil thinks I'm insane. Oh, and maybe put up some pictures. Stay tuned.

So, I guess it’s about time to resume my blog. Here’s the one sentence, readers digest version of the last month: we were evacuated to Armenia, where we did nothing.

Of course there are notable exceptions: the “Georgia South Refugee Olympics,” the Sadie Hawkins dance and last but not least, the swearing in of the G8’s in Tsaghkadzor. But, as a general rule, I caught up on a lot of television and read a lot and on our last night I was crowned Grand Master of Didi Michaeli’s new card game, aptly titled “Grand Master.”

Oh, and I also received my luggage! On our last night in Tsaghkadzorr, the PC vehicles pulled up with ALL of our bags. One of the boys in our group walked in and exclaimed “It looks like a Nordstrom blew up in here!” That’s how we roll. With lots of clothes. The bad news was that since we were flying within Europe, only 20kg of baggage was allowed with us. We should be getting the additional 20kg in about a month. In other sad news, I forgot that I had done laundry (in the tub, naturally) the night before we left and left it on a balcony. I now have significantly less underwear than before. But, it’s the Peace Corps, we deal. And, well, frankly, you’re not going to feel sorry for me when I tell you about where I’ve moved to.

I’m now in Albania, my new home for the next two years. Albania is amazing…and I almost feel guilty telling everybody what an amazing time I’m having. Didn’t I sign up for the Peace Corps in hope of a life of misery? Unfortunately this isn’t exactly panning out. First, Albania is beautiful (not to compare, but…its not quite as pretty as Georgia, but refugees don’t complain.) Second, the Albania PC program (staff, volunteers, the whole population of Albania) has gone over and above to make us feel welcome. On our first night we were treated to an amazing lunch that included pizza without…and brace yourself for this one…mayonnaise. That night we had dinner at our country director’s home, met his family and played with his adorable puppies.

On day two we were taken to the beach. Yeah, a white sand beach on the crystal clear Adriatic. How jealous are you now? On a scale of 1-10, seriously. After the beach, one of our program directors took us out to dinner in Tirana (the capital of Albania and where we’re staying for 5 weeks while we learn Albanian) and then we walked around downtown (In dark-time, kids…we’re allowed free range even after 8…unthinkable in Georgia) and while we were looking for a certain wine bar that apparently serves 100 lek (about 1 dollar) wine. We didn’t find the bar we were looking for, but stumbled upon a wine distributor who invited us into his show room and kept bringing us gigantic carafes of tasty Spanish wine and plates of cheese. We decided to buy a few bottles since, well, this is the first real wine we’ve had in quite awhile and he then gave us a discount on the wine we bought. Georgian hospitality is great and everything and I’m used to the wine flowing like water, but this was out of control.

Satiated on good wine and cheese, we awoke this morning to our first language classes, lunch with our program managers and a meeting with the US Ambassador to Albania.

So, yeah. I have no complaints about life right now. Things are of course going to get harder and my next two years won’t be like these last two days, but I’m going to enjoy it while I have the chance. I think we’re going to pretty much get to live like ex-pats in Tirana for the next five weeks. We’re so lucky to get so much individualized attention from all of the PC staff and the American community at large in Tirana.

I’m going to stop bragging now, I’m sure, dear readers, you’ve had enough. I’m going to hold out hope that things get worse and that you’ll have a whiny, bitter post to read next time.

But, I wouldn’t count on it…

This is a really old blog post that I wrote before everything 'went down' in Georgia. It was already written and eventhough not exactly timely, I figured it wouldn't hurt to put it up. Oh, and if you're privy to my ketchup story, here's where it all started...

This weekend all the TEFL’s went on job shadowing trips. How we’re supposed to ‘job shadow’ teachers in the middle of summer on a weekend, I don’t know, but, alas, that was the plan. In all honesty, I think the Peace Corps staff was just trying to avoid insurrection…the business kids always get to leave site and do fun stuff…TEFLs not so much.

Two other PSTs and I were job shadowing a G7 in the Kaketi region. Kaketi is the easternmost region of Georgia. It’s also the hottest region of Georgia and a malaria zone. Oh, and guess who forgot to pack her malaria meds?

If you guessed me, you would be correct. I figured I’d just stock up on tonic water and try to find some good gin. PC medical didn’t feel as optimistic about my obviously well thought out plan. The good news is that you can buy malaria medication in almost any pharmacy and it’s cheap.

Anyway, the G7 we were shadowing lives in a village about 10 km from the Azeri border. This means we were in for a 4+ hour trip on Georgian public transportation from our villages in central Georgia. Yay!

As a quick aside, the notion of Georgian public transportation seems pretty cool, right? I mean you can go anywhere you need to in the whole country for like 20 Lari. But, then you may ask yourself, how can a country like Georgia have an efficient and inexpensive public transportation system? “Cities in the US like Seattle hardly have reliable public transport and the CTA in Chicago is on the verge of collapse,” you may muse.

Well, Georgia can have such a system because it’s ridiculously unsafe and not regulated by the Government. Georgia’s country-wide ‘public’ transportation system is a system of old 16 passenger vans that drive no less than 70 kmh on mountain roads and poorly maintained highways…but, hey, they’re cheap! I’m sure Wikipedia can do a much better job of explaining these than I can…so have at it.

Back to the trip…so we took various marshutkas and navigated the metro in Tbilisi all by ourselves and arrived in Vardisubani (our final destination) in a little under 5 hours. Vardisubani may be perhaps the hottest place I’ve ever been. It was easily pushing 115 degrees when we arrived and didn’t cool down our entire visit. But, on the plus side, it’s beautiful and our G7 host and her host family were wonderful to us.

On Sunday we traveled up to Signaghi. Signaghi is one of the first towns in Georgia Saakashvili pushed to renovate, as he has a vacation home there. It’s really beautiful in a fakey-touristy sort of way…so of course I loved it! St. Nino’s church, where St. Nino is buried, is also there. If you haven’t been reading up, St. Nino brought Christianity to Georgia and she’s kind of a big deal. We went into the church, which is beautiful, lit candles and touched her tomb. Unfortunately, its kind of holy site, so no pictures of the inside, but if you’re ever in Georgia, be sure it hit it up.

While St. Nino’s was pretty amazing, I think the highlight of the day was lunch. We had Mexican food. Yes. We ate Mexican food in a little town in eastern Georgia. The owner is part of an international Georgian dancing troupe and his brother-in-law is American, so the food was surprisingly authentic…we even had hand made tortilla chips! After a month of nothing but Georgian food (which is amazing, don’t get me wrong…just a little lacking in variety) it was a very welcome change.

The next morning it was time to depart again, we caught the early Marshutka into Tbilisi and may or may not have spent a little more time than necessary making our way from one side of the city to the other. We stopped for American style breakfast: omelets and Starbucks coffee, and did a little window shopping. I bought real Heinz ketchup at the big grocery store in Tbilisi, which really can’t be replicated, and is absolutely essential, I don’t care where you are in the world.

So, all in all, I had a wonderful weekend. It was a nice little morale boost. PST can be ridiculously stressful and adjusting to Georgia can be tough, even though there is a reason certain countries coughlikegeorgiacough are considered ‘posh corps.’ It was nice to have a break and an opportunity to find a few American style comforts. The big news is that they announce our permanent sites Friday…which signals the beginning of the end of PST! We’ve already lost 8 G8’s…I’m just so glad I’m making it through.

Hey everybody,

I'm sure you all know about the stuff going on in Georgia right now. We're safe in Armenia. I have an e-mail with all the gritty details, but I don't want to post it here (other volunteers are having problems with the media taking info off their blogs...and that's totally ar shedzleba (not allowed) So, if you're interested, send me or my mom your e-mail address and promise not to talk to the media.

My host mother’s favorite story to tell about me is that on my first day, when I could basically only say 5-10 Georgian words, I recognized and correctly identified a bizhra.

For those that don’t know, (and why should you, really?) a bizhra is a gathering place for men. Basically, they hang out, drink, discuss politics, play cards, etc, on the side of the street. Some bizhras are covered, some aren’t. If you see more than three men standing around, you’ve found a bizhra. The literal meaning, in Russian, is ‘dog house,’ really it needs no explanation. Ironically, or not, there are usually also a number of stray dogs hanging around the bizhra.

In training we’re taught, as women, to stay far, far away from bizhras. When walking by a bizhra, we’re instructed to avoid eye contact and/or speaking to the men. According to our safety and security trainers, like everything in Georiga, bizhras are scary, horrible and to be avoided at all costs.

In all fairness, they’re right. Groups of men in various states of intoxication loitering on the side of the road should generally be avoided. But, in a super small village they’re not really of much concern. Cue my host mother’s laughter when I pointed out the bizhra. I can’t imagine what must have been going through her head. No, actually I can, it was something along the lines of:

“Crazy American, she can’t even figure out how to construct a sentence in Georgian but knows what a bizhra is? What kind of useless crap are they teaching her in class?”

So, if you’re ever in Georgia and recognize a bizhra (and really, you can’t miss them, one is located like every 20 feet) don’t let on until you know the basics of the language. It will save you more than a few awkward moments when your host mom is having a laugh at your expense.

While we’re on the subject of bizhras, as my host mom and I were walking to the store today, past like the fifth bizhra on our way, she asked me if they had them in Chicago. “Uh…ara?” My limited vocabulary kind of prevents me from explaining that no, we don’t have bizhras, but we have bars.

“Uh, ara bizhra Chicagoidan, ara bizhra Amerikeli.” I figured I’d go with the simple nope, no bizhras in Chicago or America in general. My host mom thought about this for a minute and her reply was ridiculously telling. “Oh, ara bizhra…in America men work?”

“Ki.”

Yeah, in Georgia men stand around and drink all day and in America, men work. Of course it’s not so cut and dry, but for the most part that’s how it works. Here it seems like the women do all the work and the men just kind of hang out. This may of course be because I hang out with the women all day. I have no idea what the men do. For the most part, men don’t really talk to me. This includes my host father, who I’ve seen a total of one time and has said a total of 3 words to me.

In other important news, I have kind of mastered the outhouse and there is an extensive explanation of how to shower in Georgia included in my “Georgia” album on facebook.

It’s about a quarter after nine o’clock on the most surreal day of my entire life. Today we stepped out of the hotels of Tbilisi and the mountain resorts of Baukurani into ‘real’ Georgia. I’m living in a small village outside of Kashuri with a host family for the next 10 weeks.

After driving from Baukurani to Kashuri this afternoon, we were introduced to our host families and left for the countryside. My host mother and a neighbor girl came to pick me up. As soon as we hit the dirt road, I was informed by my host mother that we were now in Osuriari. Yes, the transition from pavement to dirt delineates the entrance to my new village.

My host family’s house is very nice. Especially my bedroom. It has everything I need, with the notable exception of hangers. Upstairs is where I live (I may still be confused about this, but there are three bedrooms on the second floor and I think I might be the only one sleeping up here….my Bebia (grandmother) totally can’t get up the stairs and I don’t think my two little da (sisters) sleep up here either.) The point is, it’s nice. The other important point is that I CAN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING.

I’ve been in Georgia for a week now, I think I’ve had a total of 5 hours of Georgian lessons. I can say stuff like “hello” and “goodbye” and even “I am American” but anything more complex than that and I’m totally lost.

This leads to a ton of assumptions and half getting it. Like, I think my dada (mother) does just about everything. She owns a clothing shop, which we visited this evening to close up. She had about 4 items of clothing for sale. One, notably, was a Salvatore Ferragamo knockoff sweater. Pimp, I know. When I somehow got it across that I needed to buy water, we walked to another store and she got water for me and cigarettes for her husband, but didn’t pay. This leads me to believe she also owns this store, but I can’t be sure.

Perhaps most notably, I haven’t figured out how to go to the bathroom. Its outside, I guess it’s an outhouse. I haven’t been brave enough to go investigate. My host family probably thinks that in addition to being crazy, Americans don’t pee. It may be true. We’ll see how long it takes me to get a kidney infection. Honestly, I think I can pretty much deal with anything…the exception being a bathroom that consists of a hole in the ground.

I’ll keep you posted on the situation as it progresses.

I have no idea how to format any of this, but here are some pictures. The city pictures are Tbilisi and the mountain-y pictures are Baukuriani, a Georgian ski resort a few hours outside Tbilisi.

The picture below, of people, happens to be of my host mother, Gulo and host sisters, Russo and Mari. The picture to the right of my host family is of Osiauri, my training village, as is the picture of the church below.

There is an old adage in foreign policy circles that goes something to the effect of “there aren’t wars between two countries with Mc Donalds’. It seems there are at least 50 Mc Donalds’ in Tbilisi and I’m pretty sure Moscow is stocked with them as well. So, if you’ve been worried about Russian aggression towards Georgia, you can stop. There are just too many Mickey-D’s here for war.

Speaking of things American and war-like, our first dinner in Tbilisi was at the same restaurant George W. Bush ate at when he visited Georgia. There is a picture of him on the wall and a street now named after him. He called the country a “beacon of democracy.” As such, the government here is extremely pro-American and, here’s a fun fact: after the U.S. and the UK, Georgia has by far the most troops in Iraq.

As an aside, I’m not sure how political I can get on this blog. I’m pretty sure what I’ve been speaking of so far is just factual, but if this entry happens to be removed in the next week, we’ll both know why.

Getting back to forbidden politics, if you’re at all interested in the Russian ‘situation,’ apparently much of it stems from the strong U.S.-Georgian relationship. Georgia sits in an extremely desirable geo-political position in light of all the oil coming from the Caspian. Right now all that oil travels through Russia. With improved infrastructure (and no doubt U.S. backing) a large amount of that oil can be re-routed, taking Russia out of the picture entirely. It’s obviously more complicated than my brief explanation, but you can do your own research if you’re really that interested. I’m not even interested enough to delve that deep into it. I subscribe to a different theory. There is a rumor that Putin’s old mistress was married to a Georgian and she broke off the affair with Putin to go back to her husband. This, of course, resulting in a hatred for all things Georgia. Also, secretly, Putin’s mother may have been Georgian. And this shame has led to a dislike of the Georgian people.

I’m choosing to believe the fun theories, because I don’t get a subscription to US Weekly and Putin’s Oedipus complex is the best I can do.

So, as we’ve established, Georgian’s love Americans…and we’re being treated pretty fantastically here…at least now. Apparently the squat toilets and bucket baths come next week. We stayed in an amazing hotel in Tbilisi with lots of hot water, electricity and spotty wireless internet. We’re most definitely living the good life. Now we’re in a ski resort town about three hours outside of Tbilisi in a big lodge-like hotel with amenities like mini-bars (which unfortunately the P.C. does not cover) and Georgian fashion magazines. We’re resorting for three days until we leave to move in with our first host families.

Most of Tbilisi, let alone the outer towns and villages, isn’t living like we are. For a capital city Tbilisi is honestly kind of run down and dirty. It’s a very odd juxtaposition. Like, they have designer stores (most notably to the men’s designer fans) there is a Boss store and a Zegna (and not the Z or the Sport, the good stuff). There’s a D&G and Dior here, people. Yet, there are also children begging in the streets and feral dogs running wild across the street. A few streets over from the nice stores and the opera house there are buildings that have more than likely been bombed. They have all these fantastic statues and monuments surrounded by shanty-ish stores. It’s hard to wrap your head around. Overall, my review, after being in country for less than a week is that you come to Georgia for the scenery, the nature and the hospitality…not cosmopolitan conspicuous consumption.

We’ll see how my opinion on this changes after a month or two of bucket baths.

Oh, and a special note to my mother: thanks for the silent ‘h’ in my name that has confused people all of my life. I have to officially drop it here. One of the letters in the Georgian alphabet is the English equivalent to “gh” it’s a deep guttural guuuuhhh. If I use that letter in Georgian, my name becomes Meguuuhhhani. Ew. No thanks. If I were to just use the regular G letter followed by the regular H letter I would basically confuse everybody I came into contact with. The silent H just isn’t done here, Mom. I can’t believe you didn’t anticipate this being a problem.

So, I’m now Megani. Awesome, I know.

Ok, I have no idea how to set up this blog business. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to have some kind of disclaimer noting that the content of this blog does not represent the views of the U.S. government. So, until I figure out how to do that, keep in mind that I do not represent the views of the U.S. government.

So, with that out of the way....

I'm at JFK airport right now. I've been in Philadelphia staging for the past few days. For those of you not down with the Peace Corps lingo, staging is like our pre-pre-pre orientation. We play games and learn about rules. The highlight, however, was being shown around by my dear friend Alicia, who lives in Philly. She was gracious enough to take me to the best cheesesteak stand in the world (or so they claim...I've only experienced the one, so who knows). It was good?

As I mentioned, I'm at JFK right now, waiting for my flight to Istanbul. From Istanbul we ('we' being the 55 other PCV going to Georgia as well) fly to Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. We're going to stay in Tbilisi for a few days and then leave for another city where we'll spend another few days in pre-pre training. Then we're divided into smaller groups, of five or so, and placed in a village for pre-service training. We'll be at this site for the first three months, before we're placed in our permanent sites, where we'll stay for the remainder of our service.

So, that's really all the big news. I'll work on collecting some good anecdotes, as I'm sure an outline of my travel plans isn't exactly riveting reading. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed that I find a Brooks Brother's outlet in Tbilisi.

The real explanation:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Fleece

My love of all things waspy:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooks_Brothers