Well, here I am. For the first time in 2 years I am sittingin my family room in Plainsboro, New Jersey. It’s a weird experience, andsometimes I completely forget that I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer and everything Isee and feel is just a mirage; an illusion meant to hold me over until I’mactually done. Right now the only thing that holds me on to the reality of mycircumstance is the homemade Georgian wine (that he has described as “okay”) I’vebeen sharing with my father. I guess it’s hard to explain, and maybe it’s justbecause I’m home for a little while, or maybe because it the holiday season,but being in America just feels so easy and right.

I’m not trying to say that America is #1 overall, but for meit is #1. Georgians ask a series of questions when the first meet a foreigner,and these are my typical responses:

Q: What’s your name?A: Tom.

Q: How old are you?A: 25.

Q: Are you married/have kids?A: No.

Q: Why not?A: [Random answer, and usually depends on if I want to jokearound or act annoyed]

Q: Do you like Georgia/Keda?A: Yes, I like Georgia/Keda very much, it has beautifulnature, and the air is so great.

Q: Do you like GeorgiansA: Yes, they are very generous and hospitable people.

Q: Which is better America or Georgia?A: Both are great.

There are a bunch of other questions that come before andafter, but undoubtedly a foreigner will be asked which is better America orGeorgia. I’ve always said both are good, and I probably always will, but to beAmerica is my home and to me it is #1. I’ve tried to say “Hey, America is myHOME. Everything I love and care about is there.” Most people nod their headacknowledging that no matter how great a place is, home is home, and it willalways be #1.

I guess all I really mean is:

IT’S GREAT TO BE HOME!

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow morning I board a plane inTbilisi at 0815. I land in Kiev at 0850 (yes, the plane is THAT FAST). I waitaround the airport for about four hours, and then board a plane (with anunoccupied space next to me because the US Consular Office in Kiev is ahorrible place) at 1255 that lands in NYC at 1635. Pretty much this means thatwithin 36 hours I will be eating Taco Bell and driving down the New JerseyTurnpike on my way back to my house in Plainsboro, New Jersey.

There are lots of things to do, to see, to eat, and peopleto hang out with. I don’t have a specific list or schedule of my days, and I nolonger have a current driver’s license, so most like if you want to see me youwill have to pick me up. Unfortunately, as I said above, I will be travelingone person short. I never thought that visas could be such a huge problem, andit sucks because all these rules are in place now because people in the past tookadvantage of the lax rules. Anyway, that’s another story.

I need Taco Bell. That’s probably one of the first things Iwill do after I land. After Taco Bell I probably just want to go home and hangout with my cat, Archimedes, for a while and talk with my family about all thefun and exciting things I’ve been doing. My goal is to basically gain 10 poundsin this single visit home. There are so many places I have to go, and so muchfood (HOAGIE HAVEN) that I have to eat that I’ll be pretty busy. I would stilllike for my friends to come see me and let me know when they’re free for drinksor FOOD and write me on Facebook.

I may or may not be returning to Georgia on the 5th.There are a lot of factors at play, and a lot of things I have to consider. Iwould like to go to Ukraine right after, but I’m quickly running out ofvacation days from Peace Corps. The airline is also being a huge pain by notletting me change my flight without paying a large amount of money. If I stopin Ukraine it could only be for three days, but something is telling me I willreally need those three days. Long-distance relationships are NOT easy. I haven’tseen Ana in almost two-months, and we were really counting on this trip home,but now it may look like we won’t see each other until summer. Which… well…sucks…

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the reasons I went into teaching. I remember reading essays and studying over books in graduate school that went over many of the problems students face in school. Then I remember when Governor Chris Christie came and started tearing away at teachers to destroy the fabric of the teacher’s union. I remember telling myself, “I won’t be those teachers that get disheartened and stop trying”. Unfortunately, looking at some of my situation here in Peace Corps I have found myself in that exact situation. I am looking at some of the things I’ve done IN THE CLASSROOM, and compared it to what I wished I could do as a teacher, and let’s just say I’m far from impressed.

Peace Corps Staff as admittedly told me that they believed I had certain special abilities and skills, which is why I got this particular site. I won’t go into details, but I was excited to really get into teaching and doing everything I could for my students. I was really into it the first semester, and I tried all these new and different strategies (most of which got me strange stares from students and teachers alike), and overall I didn’t feel any change, and I was more frustrated with students who disrespected me in class than educating. Plus, I was always fighting a language barrier and butting up against the status quo. Instead of fighting against what I knew was wrong I got sucked into it myself. Now I’m stuck wondering if I’m really cut out for this whole teaching thing. Is my fancy Masters of Arts in Teaching and teaching certificate just a piece of paper?

A lot of the issues I know are language and culturally based. Some of it is the size of my classrooms. Mainly, it’s me. I haven’t put nearly enough time into lesson planning or brainstorming new ideas. Instead of focusing on teaching, which didn’t provide me with that Peace Corps “Wow” experience I turned to other things. I decided to focus my attention on the university, the fitness center, getting dictionaries, getting chalkboards. All of these things are great, but they aren’t what I originally set out to do. Not to mention that now that I spend so little time at school because I’m so busy with other things I feel like a giant failure. I’ve let myself and my students down. Then I saw a few PCVs posting this article. It’s true, I have faced a lot of failure in my time here. I have failed in studying and becoming an advanced and fluent speaker of Georgian. I’ve failed at motivating people around me to really care and work hard in school. So, instead of thinking of new approaches to my style I basically gave up and went on to something new (university and fitness club).

This has all thrown me for a bit of a loop. Should I even be a teacher? If I do become a teacher, will I end up being one of the poor teachers represented on the “Waiting for Superman” documentary? The more I learn about education back home the more I worry I could be part of the problem. If I go into teaching I feel like I’ll have a lot to learn. I know that going forward I WILL try harder in the classroom. I will make the most of this experience and give my students something they truly deserve: a competent teacher that cares about their education.

Here’s me refusing to let me be a failure!

Nakhvamdis! (Goodbye)

This is part of an e-mail my good friend, Carsten Brown, posted in an e-mail home about travelling in a marshutka. This is a really fun read and I'm sure you'll get a good laugh--especially because he's a talented and funny writer. Enjoy.

"Marshutka Pre-Flight AnnouncementWhen traveling in Georgia, one is usually limited to three modes of transportation: taxi, train or passenger van. The passenger van tends to be the most economical form of transit, both in terms of time and cost. These trips often last hours (some as long at 8 hours) and this gives one much time to read, reflect or day-dream. I usually choose the latter-most. I have decided that if a van such as these were to become really official and take a cue from airlines, the conversation in the front seat would probably resemble this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzqdDoe8FoM&feature=related

And it's highly likely that every Georgian driver would have one of these.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl4plPGRG8o

And should the driver ever decide to include a pre-flight introduction or speech, it would closely resemble the following:

“Good morning ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Giorgi and I will be your Marshutka (passenger van) driver today. We'll be cruising at approximately 120 kph through narrow mountain passes, skirting the edges of sheer cliff faces and performing the bovine slalom with cows strategically placed in the middle of the road.

If you are feeling queasy from the overwhelming aroma of haven't-showered-in-three-weeks BO, combined with vodka-on-the-breath-of-the-gentleman-sitting-next-to-you AND the maniacal maneuvering of our driver, just scream “GAACHERET” (STOP!) and we'll pull over to the side of the cliff and let you toss your cookies.

Today's is a non-smoking flight, as indicated by the “No Smoking” sign hanging from the rear-view mirror, but this rule will be flagrantly flouted by the driver, who will smoke like a chimney for the next six hours.

If this is a summer trip, and you are feeling a little warm, opening a window for ventilation will be futile, as the other passengers will angrily close it, for fear of catching a cold...in August.

On this trip there will be no complimentary drinks, snacks or pillows. You are traveling like chattel. Adjust your expectations accordingly.

Today's in-flight meal will consist of day-old khatchapuri shoved on you, against your will, by the bebia (grandmother) sitting next to you.

If you'll kindly direct your attention to your left and right shoulders, you'll notice that the seat belt has been conveniently cut out to ease a speedy departure from the vehicle, through the windshield, in the event of a sudden stop or a cataclysmic auto-donkey pile-up.

For the Georgians aboard, please feel free to religiously cross yourselves at random and inexplicable intervals, so as to alarm the foreigners on board as much as possible.

As always, our “Clown Car” policy dictates that we'll be taking twice as many passengers as we can safely accommodate, so keep your laps (i.e. extra seats) free! Have a hazardous trip! :-)”

No Joke."

It’s something many of us have to deal with here in Georgia. One thing I am constantly trying to fight back against is the perception that I am too young or I am not able to do anything. Many of the younger volunteers feel the same way. I was talking to my host mother today and she was telling me that I had to eat and then go to bed because I didn’t sleep until 5am last night. All I could do was laugh, because nobody has told me to “Go to bed” in ten years. She asked why I was laughing and I told her because I’m not a ten-year old and nobody has told me to go to bed. She said that here the older people can tell children when to go to bed. At this point I was a little offended and told her I wasn’t a child. So, she pulled out the age thing. But, I told her, “I’m not a child”.

So, we had a discussion about when a person goes from “boy” to “man”. Basically a man has to have a wife and child. I told her that in my opinion someone should be a man BEFORE getting married and having kids. That was the end of the conversation—it wasn’t the end of my thoughts about it. I have so many problems getting people to listen to me or take me seriously and it’s ALL because of my age. A TLG volunteer in a village near to me told me that when people in his village talk about me they always mention how young I am. Worse than being 25 is that I look like I’m 20 (if that). It’s not my education, my experiences, or what I’ve already accomplished that defines who I am; it’s my age.

When I came to Keda I was told that I would be allowed to do teacher trainings. I started working at the school and tried introducing new methodologies to my counterparts and students. I won’t go into details into this aspect, but basically I never felt like I had the respect of teachers or students. I’ve always felt like I was a good teacher, but I’ve been having problems getting people to respect me and know that I can get things done. Nobody will make a move to get teacher trainings going. I think I know why. People don’t trust the ideas of a “boy”, no matter how much education or knowledge he has.

Nobody said Peace Corps was easy.

I’ve been trying every week to do this new thing on my blog. I would like to introduce you all to Marshutka Mondays. I have talked to my parents and a few friends about marshutkas, but most people don’t know what they are or what our lives or like on these machines. So, every Monday I will talk a little bit about marshutkas and some of the fun stories I have riding on them. So, here we go…

Marshutkas are typically Ford Transit vans with a bunch of seats, packed with people. They are used like buses and transport people from city to city (or even within a city). Above it a picture of a normal marshutka in Georgia. I have to point out that most of my picture are poorly taken because I felt uncomfortable taking out my camera and snapping photos with so many people around. Especially since a lot of my photos have people in them.

Here's the front of a Ford Transit marshutka that goes from The sign on the front ბათუმი which means "Batumi" (the nearest large city).

Some of the marshutkas, especially the ones that go across the country are Mercedes Benz Sprinters and are usually considerably larger and more comfortable than the Ford Transits. They aren't as common, though.

Look above and you'll see some German. I haven't figured out why most of the marshutkas are secondhand from Germany, but German is written all over most of the marshutkas. I also just thought a yellow marshutka was funny.

Here's the inside of a marshutka when it's crowded.

The way back of the marshutka next to an old woman who kept smelling me...

And another marshutka picture.

And the last one....

So there's Marshutka Mondays.

In keeping with tradition I will write about another important person in my life. At this point I have covered my sisters, Mary and Catherine, my Mom, and my Dad. There is one person missing from this equation and that is my older brother, Dean. Dean is about seven-years older than I am, but as a young boy Dean would still be just like any other older brother.

I have many stories about Dean as an older brother that I love to tell people. Whether it was the day he tied me to a chair and put me outside, or when I tried to play with him and his friends with water guns (they all ganged up and got me soaked), or when I’d sit in the backseat with him and I’d randomly get one of his “leg-squishes”, or finally when we were backpacking he pushed me upside down and called me “Beetle Boy” as I tried to get up. These are all great stories that make people laugh and giggle and go “Oh… older brothers…” Then of course there are all the nicknames (Boy, Beetle Boy… most revolved around calling me “boy”). Despite many of these great stories, there was always more to our relationship than just that. He may not try to admit it, and he’ll probably cringe at the thought of it, but he was actually a pretty cool older brother.

We would gather around the computer for hours and watch Dean play “Ultima Underworld”. Oh, we spent soooo much time just watching him play and do stuff. In fact, there were times—since I wasn’t allowed to play the computer then—that I’d ask Dean if he wanted to play the computer; just so I could watch. Eventually I was allowed to play and now I routinely whoop his butt—no really, it’s not even fun for me and I have to LET him beat me a few times so he won’t stop playing. Ironically, I believe his kids are getting really good and will probably kick me butt when I return home.

I am also a bit too young to totally remember, but Dean used to take my sister and I around our house and play “Wilderness”. It was a time where we’d pretend to be some group of people who had to survive outside on our own. He’d teach us all these interesting wilderness survival stuff, too. Eventually Dean got too old to play with us and Mary and I tried—but failed—in playing alone. Actually, in our efforts she and I found a dead bird and buried a mouse. Dean went from playing “wilderness” with me to actually going INTO the wilderness.

My father, Dean, and I backpacked the entire John Muir Trail (221 miles) in 1999. Dean was always a good sport about everything—even though I’m pretty sure he would have preferred I stayed behind. Also, I was kicked out of the tent once for smelling too much like fish. Nonetheless, the pictures of the three of us on the top of Mt. Whitney are still some of my favorite pictures I have of my brother and me.

Despite Dean’s seemingly indifference he was always my favorite and my childhood hero (something he probably got sick of). He was a Boy Scout and an Eagle Scout. Therefore I went to become a Boy Scout and eventually an Eagle Scout. Dean is in the Army. I wanted to be in the Army and joined ROTC my freshman year, but was medically disqualified. A big part of the reason I’m in Peace Corps is to serve my country like Dean does. Dean wrestled, so I wrestled, too. I was never as broad as Dean (though I am 2 inches taller), and he was always MUCH stronger than I was, but I was always a slightly better technical wrestler. Didn’t matter, because he’d still beat me up or say, “Boy, I’m trained to kill people with my hands, not pin them to the ground for a second or two.” Much of who I am and grew up to be is essentially an imitation of my older brother. Sure, as I grew up more I diverged significantly, but he always provided a good example to follow. In my extended family Dean is like the most amazing person in the world. I’ve never seen grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins light up so much as when Dean enters the room.

Dean also has done some pretty cool things for me in the past. In my senior year of high school I had a big party at my house and got caught. I was grounded for 6-months, but the day before my parents got home my brother took me to the movies. Sort of an “I know you’re about to die, so let’s watch ‘The Last Samurai’”.

One of the most recent experiences I’ve had with Dean was when I went to his Ranger School Graduation (yeah, he’s an Army Ranger). Well, his wife asked me to drive with him from Columbus, Georgia to their home in Colorado Springs. I went to his graduation and then we spent two days hanging out in Fort Benning while he got signed out there. We had a lot of fun at night. We saw Zombieland, a movie he was laughing pretty hard throughout. We had a good time, and when we started driving I could see how intent he was on getting home. He missed his family. When I got tired a little outside of St. Louis he wanted to keep going. When we got snowed in (yes, it was middle of October) in the middle of Kansas (I HATE KANSAS) I’ve never seen him so upset. He wanted to just keep going, but we got blocked right on the border with Colorado.

Dean cares about his family. His wife and four (almost five) kids mean everything to him. Dean works long hours, and has been deployed for almost half of his daughter’s life. He still spends whatever time he can taking care of and providing for his family. I have always loved going to his house in Colorado for vacation, but I also look forward to the inevitability of getting sick with some kind of stomach bug when I’m there.

As Dean turns old he will always be Deano-Beano to me. He will also be Captain Dean Lyon. He’s my big brother and don’t mess with him or he’ll beat you up (but not in front of his kids). So Happy Birthday, Dean. I hope you have a great birthday and a fun year. Maybe I’ll even see you next year for your birthday.

As the title suggests, today was a good day and a bad day all rolled into one large package of emotional extremes. I was running around making phone calls all day trying to get my problem worked out. I really shouldn’t go into too much detail about it, because it involves some sensitive information that I don’t really want to post on my blog. With that said, my trip back to the USA from the 22nd of December to the 5th of January has just had a giant wrench thrown in it. I’m a little annoyed, because there are a variety of reasons why things like this happen.

First, I blame terrorists. I mean—when in doubt—blame terrorists. They abused the system we had in place prior to 9/11 and used it to attack our country. This brought a large amount of fear to our country and we collectively decided to shut our borders a lot more. Then I blame people in the United States who have become to xenophobic that they demand the government to take action against regular people trying to visit the USA. I mean, is it right to assume that every single personal applying for a visa wants to live in the USA permanently? Sure, some do—some don’t, too. If you make it look like you’re keeping people out on purpose you’ll end up with a lot of people hating you—just a thought. When did people get so scared of foreign or different? When did people begin not trusting other human beings?

That’s all the information I’ll give at this time. I just think some of the collective decisions we make as a country actually work against us. I mean, are we working under the assumption that everyone wants to come and live permanently in the USA? I can tell you, living in a developing nation, that not everyone thinks we are good and awesome. It could be because our economy is in shambles. Or maybe the fact or politicians don’t really care too much about fixing the country. No, they listen to lobbyists who care more about themselves than the country. Some lobbyists do good things—for a while. Then eventually they earn enough sway to try and do WHATEVER they f’in want. I’m not talking Democrat or Republican. I’m talking leaders who lead to benefit only themselves and their own lives. George Washington didn’t WANT to be President. Abraham Lincoln fought a Civil War. We can’t even agree whether or not to raise taxes or cut unneeded programs. At the same time we’ve got people like Rick Perry coming in and saying our foreign aid should start at $0. What an idiot. If it started at $0 I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do my projects, which use USAID money.

That gets into my second (and more joyous) news. Get ready. Are you ready? I don’t think you’re ready. You’re really ready? Okay, fine…

I got

My

GRANT!!!!!!!!!!!

Yep!!! Once again, I won’t tell you how much money it is, but it’s more than enough to get me my fitness club! I was given a few suggestions, one of which I think will be great. One was about making ‘women only’ workout times. And another was charging a little money to make it more sustainable. The first part is a definite YES! I thought I wrote that in there, but I don’t think I emphasized it enough. As long as I get enough interests from women it will definitely go in there. The second suggestion is not going to work, though. The sports school is a part of the local municipality and are not allowed to take money for memberships fees. They said it may be changed in the future, but for now the municipality of Keda will take monetary responsibility in the future.

It should take a few weeks to get the money, but in the meantime I’ll be making phone calls and trying to figure everything out and making final touches (but not signing anything) on the ordering of equipment and the planning of my project.

Honestly though, even getting the grant isn’t making up for the horrible part of my day…

For better or for worse my grants are in. The past month (and really week) I've been running around trying to figure out the finishing touches on my grants. I wrote finished two last night. One was for my fitness club and the other was for an English Resource Center. I sent my fitness club to a few friends to look over, and AFTER I e-mailed my final copy my friend told me there were a few typos and grammatical mistakes made that she fixed... Ugh. Hopefully the SPA Committee won't notice those... Well, I guess they will now that they are reading my blog.

The other grant I wrote was really short, and it was with another organization. My friend contacted me and told me there was this opportunity, but I had to write the grant in one day. Soooo, the same day I'm trying to get one grant signed, stamped, dated, and edited I was writing a second, completely different one. I certainly feel like my Dad now, and understand why he'd always get grumpy whenever we bothered him while he had to write these things. The thing is, if you take your mind off the grant for too long you lose your place and then start writing something totally incoherent. So, sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have asked you to fix my computer when you were writing your grants.

What are the chances of these grants going through? I don't know honestly. I was told there's quite a few grants going in this time, and the competition for the money will be pretty high. All we can do is hope I did it all right and my project shows the needs of our community. I met again with the director of the sports school and showed him pictures of all the equipment I am trying to buy. He is REALLY excited. I'd be so sad if we didn't get it, because he would be devastated. As for the Resource Center... Well, it's something I've always wanted to do, but I never felt like I had anyone to work with on it. My host father was really helping me with the fitness club (unfortunately he's in Ukraine selling persimmons), and he has been asking me the past 5 months "Any word on the Fitness Club?"

This project is really my defining moment as a Peace Corps Volunteer. All the work I do at school and the University are things that I can feel happy and moderately proud of... but all the tools were already there for me to work it out. The fitness club... this is my creation. This is something I helped find with the help of community members, and it's been a part of me for almost 9 months--that pretty much makes it my baby. I am trying to remain realistic, but I'm hoping for the best, and really looking forward to what the future may hold here.

In other notes... I got more money to buy blackboards. I'll probably be aiming for 7 more. Most will be going to a village school up the road from Keda. Maybe one or two will stay in Keda.

I really wanted to save this for my last paragraph. This is a THANK YOU to my friends and family who helped me with donations. With your help we raised over $1000 for the project. $1000!!!!!! I have to thank you all, and I already have planned exactly what the money will buy. The project still isn't closed, and you can continue contributing to the project until it reaches $1800 or I close it (which will happen if I get the other grant). I honestly haven't thought about what I'd do if I don't get the grant. What would happen to the $1000? I suppose I'd have to find a way to either return the money or use it on another project? I'm not sure how that works.

Some of you have also asked about the safety of Wide Awake. Wide Awake is COMPLETELY 100% SAFE. Right now they are still in their testing phase, and they are waiting to renew the security subscription until they switch over to their new system. Stay tuned, too, because I will be adding more projects to the Wide Awake site--projects that will be considerably smaller, but nonetheless critical to my community's need.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's the moment of truth everybody...

On Monday I turn in my Small Projects Assistance (SPA) grant to Peace Corps. From there it is reviewed by a committee of other Volunteers who will determine whether or not I will receive Peace Corps funding for my fitness club. If I get the funds I will be in fat city. I have a substantial community contribution and you have all been awesome--or I've been annoying--enough to get $1000 from Wide Awake for this project. I won't give the total amount of the project or anything else, but I do want to thank all of you who donated. Just thought I'd point out that I lowered to amount asked for to 1800. Please, if you can continue donating and help us out some more. If I get the grant I will likely close out the donations very quickly so I can get the money. If I get this grant I won't need any more donation (for this project).

Wide Awake is a great place to do business. I got a few e-mails from friends and family that warned it seemed sketchy because their security certificate was expired or because of terms in the contract (which are things they are bound by law to do). I have contacted them about all these and I am happy to say that they ARE safe. So, don't be scared. I will be looking at doing some more projects. One in particular is to make an English Resource Room in my school, or somewhere in Keda that everyone can use. What does this entail?

1) Desk

2) Chairs

3) Computer

4) CD Player

5) English textbooks

6) English reader books with CDs

7) Blackboard

8) Shelf

9) Posters

10) Projector

I'm sure there will be other things, but this would be good for now. I haven't done much research in costs, but I'll do that soon and then start posting donations on Wide Awake. I have also thought about replacing ALL the chalkboards at my school (they are all in bad shape).

One thing at a time though... Let's get this done!!!!!!!!!!!

I’d like to introduce you to my best friend. It only comes out from October to April; it’s large, and HOT! PCVs gather around these fine contraptions when we aren’t huddled in our sleeping bags during winter. In Russian this is a “pech(i)” (the extra “I” is how Georgians put it in nominative case, I am “Tomi”), but “pechka” is colloquial (thanks to my Ukrainian girlfriend for the clarifications), in Georgian it is “ghumeli”, but I usually say “pech(i)”. There aren’t many places (even in large cities) that have central heating in Georgia, and Keda is no different (though I have heard rumors that it’s coming soon). So these wood stoves give us heat during winter. The big problem with them is they only heat one room, which means I will spend the next 6 months huddled in this room trying to stay warm. The upside is a pechi is a great trash-bin.

So, this is our pechi. Not much to look at, but it is a lot of fun. There really is nothing better than coming home from school, lighting the pechi and falling asleep in a room well heated by it’s warmth. These ugly, rusty, dangerous devices certainly make me feel like I’m in Peace Corps. They are also pretty fun to take care of. I mean, I love fire, and so the pechi is a lot of fun to play with and sometimes I’ll just sit there and stare at the fire.

I would really love to have this little contraption in my room. I hate waking up in the morning and having to get dressed and everything when it’s SO cold. Last winter I’d wake up and immediately run to the pechi room (my host father wake up early to light it). Soon I’ll have to get my sleeping bag out, too. I’m not looking forward to that. So for the next 6 months I’ll be in this room or in my sleeping bag.

So, next time you walk into you centrally heated house. Or, wake up and walk around barefoot and half naked around your house in the winter please say “thank you” to my pechi for at least keeping me warm in one room.

I failed. Even after returning from Ukraine I didn't write an entry. Honestly, I haven't really wanted to. Leaving left a hole in me that has been bothering me since. I've been a bit more negative and agitated as I have to readjust to a lifestyle with false smiles and judgmental eyes (from HCNs and Volunteers alike). I'm never really able to be myself in Georgia, and I think that's what agitates me the most. There are a SMALL handful of Volunteers and even fewer HCNs that I can feel comfortable talking to as myself. Most of the time I'm putting on my own fake smiles to keep everything on an even keel. Sometimes I wish I was in a tiny village with no cell phone and could just work in the fields all day as opposed to a school.

One of the hardest things is that I can understand almost everything people say in Georgian, but I lack the ability to respond well. When I do try to respond it comes out as if I were a child and then some people think I'm an idiot. It's almost as if people think that what I say in a six-year-old's vocabulary means I can only think at a six-year-old's level. So often I just have to sit there and listen while people talk and talk right in front of me. It's probably the worst thing about getting better at Georgian is being able to fully understand when "friends" and co-workers are talking about you.

Still, that's neither here nor there, and I'll have to wait until July 9, 2012 to give my full opinion on everything. Until then I'll toss around my own fake smile and forced laugh and let people think I don't know anything. Instead I'll fill everyone in on Ukraine. I know my friends and family are interested in knowing, and I know PCVs would love something else to talk and gossip about. So here we go...

My last real entry was about our water park night. It was a really fun time, and I already decided that my next visit MUST include a trip back. It's not a large place, and it can easily be finished in a matter of 2 hours, but I'd like to sit in the hot tubs for more than 5 minutes.

On Sunday Ana and I hosted some of her best friends for a little get together and some drinking. We all got to know each other, play beer pong (thanks to Johnny for his balls) and Kings. She was maid-of-honor at one of her friend's weddings just a week prior and her other best friend's boyfriend was visiting from the States. It was good meeting her friends and beginning to see all the different parts of her life. I truly don't believe you can ever truly know someone until you see their friends. It was a good day, but at the same time I knew I was more than halfway through my vacation.

On Monday I waited for Anastasiya to get off work and then we decided to go downtown to find me a new winter coat. I have a winter coat but it makes me look like a black (or red depending if I turn it inside out) marshmallow. Basically it’s not a good coat to wear when I need to look nice. So we wandered around downtown looking for a peacoat. We stopped at a few places, but Anastasiya wasn’t too fond of any of them so we kept looking. Finally we stopped in one store and she took down one coat that was about double the amount I actually wanted to spend on a coat. I put it on and just really liked it. It fits me almost perfectly and definitely works for my frame. Here it is:

Later that night we celebrated by making tacos. There was no ground beef but we made it with chicken. Still it was delicious.

The next day Anastasiya went to work and I stayed to make a 7 layer dip and guacamole. I’m not sure if I made it right, but Ana LOVED it. We didn’t have chips so I broke up unused taco shells and dipped Pringles in it. It was a good night, but still sad. We just tried not to think too much about the next day.

But the next day came nonetheless. I’ll see her again soon. The flight was sad but simple and now I’m back in Georgia. Trying to get back into the swing of things but failing. I’m trying to find my groove in writing lessons and preparing for my SPA grant but I only think about the amazing week I had.

This is all I'm going to write today. It's my last night in Kiev and I want to spend my time with Anastasiya--not writing in my blog.

I'll give a larger update tomorrow.

Unfortunately I am not able to keep up with my NaBloPoMo while I'm here. There's something about having Anastasiya right next to me all the time that makes me not want to spend hours in front of the computer. It could be the fact that we're so busy trying to make the most of the short amount of time I have. Or it could just be this smile:



But she is always asking me: "Did you write in your blog today?" I swear she loves my blog more than anybody else. Today she had to go to work and that means I am alone here until 2pm, which gives me a chance to write here a little bit. My last couple entries have been really short, poorly writen, and not descriptive enough.

We've had a great couple of days, and even scattered a Lyon-Family-Adventure in there as well. If there's one thing my family is good at--it's having adventures and having unexpected things happen that make our plans all the more exciting. Like our broken lock:

So we got pizza:

Or Anastasiya's new attempt at opening the door after we aasked the landlord to change the locks.

The rest of the day ended up being lazy, but we decided we had to do something to make the most out of the day. We decided to go to the indoo waterpark near Kiev. I was like a little kid at Disney World. It was a really fun place, even though one or two rides were a little more painful than others. For example there was one where the floor just moves out from under you and you fall down a tube. That wasn't too fun. You could ride inner-tubes, and two-person tubes.

Yesterday some of Anastasiya's friends came over for a little party. We were playing beer pong and King's Cup. All-in-all it's been a good week, but I can't help but feel disappointed about leaving the day-after-tomorrow. I had to wait two months to see her since the last time, and now I'll probably have to wait another two months. Ugh...

Well, no more moping about it. I should probably get things ready for when she returns from work. So until tomorrow...

Today was an eventful day. We woke up reasonably early because we wanted to go to an outdoor museum near Kiev. We also needed to stop by the store to get water and some ingredients for Ana to make breakfast. As we were leaving the apartment Ana went to lock the door, got the door locked and then couldn't get the key out. The key was stuck. Eventually I got the key out, but the lock mechanism was broken. The keyhole was sticking out and two of the pins were laying in my hands. So, we were locked out. We had to call the landlord and he came 2 hours later. In the mean time we got some pizza. Yes, at 11am. Needless to say we didn't make it to the outdoor museum.

After a while we decided not to make a complete loss out of a nice weekend day. We went to an indoor water park outside Kiev. This place was huge, and reallllyyyyy fun. They had this tube rollercoaster like ride that we rode several times. You could get a two person tube for the couply people (like us). There was also one ride where you stood on the platform and then the floor gives out from under you and you fall into the water through a tube. It didn't look very popular, and Ana didn't want to do it. But, it looked intriguing so I gave it a shot. Sure enough, having the ground give out from under you isn't a great feeling. Even if you are only falling 10 feet into a nice pool of water.

Another good day. I doubt we'll be able to make the outdoor museum now, but that's okay. I'm still having a great time and will update with pictures ASAP.

Unfortunately I was not able to write yesterday. The day before I knew I wouldn't have access to a computer so I scheduled a post the day before (assuming my plane would make it). Yesterday I would have posted but Ana's computer had a fun little virus that turned all her icons into Windows Media Player links. Needless to say I didn't want to do anything on such a possessed computer. So I'll start somewhat from the beginning when I left Batumi.

The night before I was supposed to leave it was thunderstorming hard in Batumi. I seriously doubted whether my plane would take off the next day. My host sister and I woke up around 3:30am and had to shut all the windows--but some of the windows don't close all the way and I got a little damp. When I woke up the rain was coming down slower and I didn't hear anymore thunder. So I finish my packing and take the bus to the airport.

I didn't have to wait long before registration started and I was second in line and checked one of my bigger pieces of luggage. Then I head into passport control and walk out easily to "security". I get myself wanded and the "wander" ended up grabbing me in an inappropiate place... awkward. I'd prefer that machine that looks like a Star Trek transporter than that. After I finally got the the waiting area I started reading my book. That's when the "wander" came with another employee and asked if I had a bag checked wrapped in plastic. I said I had a bag, but it wasn't wrapped. I was asked to go along with the "wander" to a back room. Now at this point I'm a little uncomfortable but he takes me to the back area where the baggage is scanned. I doubt people are supposed to be in these areas, but here I am wandering around them because I have a mysterious bag. We get to this plastic bag that's wrapped in tape, and they ask if it's mine. I say it isn't and they ask to see my baggage ticket. Then they realize their stupidity and let me leave. Only to take the next man away that has a last name like Lian. Oopps.

The plane itself looked like a tin can, and I was a little worried getting on it. Especially with the high winds and rain in Batumi. It's strange--I've never been afraid of flying before, but in the past few years I've felt more and more afraid of it. This flight solidified my fear. Our tin-can plane was tossed around like a rag doll through the turbulence. At one point we must hae dropped over a 100 feet because i felt like I was in a roller coaster. We did make it and passport control was easy (being American here ROCKS).

I had to wait around for Ana to arrive because she was coming from work. I talked to some Russian guys and put the pins back on my bag to the amusement of people around me. When Ana came we took the bus and metro to my apartment where I met....... her MOM. Yeah, I was pretty worried, but it all turned out great. We ate a lot and talked about all sorts of things: family, politics, religion, food... everything. Then when it got late they left.

Yesterday I was alone in the apartment until Ana got off of work and she and her mom came. We hung out and ate dinner then dropped her mom at the train station.

Today it was cold and rainy so we've remained indoors and are about to watch a movie, so I better go. I will write more later.

I really don't have time, but I wanted to say I have arrived safely in Ukraine. I've been spending the afternoon and evening with Ana and her mom. It is REALLY cold here. Compared to Batumi I might as well be in Antarctica. I'll give a larger update, and maybe pictures tomorrow or the day after. Until then this entry is just to keep up my NaBloPoMo...

Also if you didn't see this before, check out: http://tomspeacecorps.blogspot.com/2011/10/call-for-help.html

and of course:

http://www.wideawake.org/fitness-club

Remember this: http://www.wideawake.org/fitness-club?

I was somewhat distraught yesterday. I was talking briefly with my host father about the fitness center we’re trying to put together and he was less than optimistic. I’ve decided that I have to put together another grant to get more money. I was hoping that the money from Wide Awake donations would be able to handle the costs, but I know it will not cover the needs anymore. From the almost 400 Facebook friends I have and the people from all over the world that read my blog it seems few people are willing to help us out. I’ve talked to numerous friends who have donated and I appreciate their donations. Some people I haven’t seen in years (since middle school or high school) have also donated. They’ve been great and I truly appreciate everything they have sacrificed, especially as the economy seems to be slowing down again. Remember, when the US economy goes into recession places like Georgia go into deeper economic turmoil.

One might say, “$500 is still a lot of money, right?” Well, not when compared to the costs of buying a treadmill. I’m also surprised because my sister and sister-in-law are both using donations to help fund their international adoptions. Together they have raised a lot of money, in a short amount of time. I’ve tried contacting friends and family directly. I’ve tried sending mass e-mails to inform people what I’m doing. I post on Facebook. Maybe people are unsure where the money is needed, and that’s why I will post a detailed budget when I get back from Ukraine. I want everyone to know exactly what’s going on, and how the money will be spent. Everything from equipment, transportation, trainings, and materials for classes will be included.

In the meantime I will probably look to lower the goal of my project significantly and focus on other grant opportunities. I can’t say that I’m happy about that, because grant writing with Peace Corps is a long drawn out process with no guarantee of success. It also has limits about how much money I can spend on equipment. A fitness center with no equipment is pretty useless. To make matters worse, the staff at the sports school always asks me what’s going on with the project— they are getting anxious and I can tell they are losing their trust in me in being able to provide this for community. I wouldn’t blame them either. I have been trying to do this for a long time now, and I don’t have much to tell them so far. It also just adds to the rumors that I don’t do much and I’m too young to get respect.

I mean I do understand. People see my project and think it’s a great idea, but money is tight for everyone. I don’t blame anybody, but I am disappointed that maybe I’m not really showing how important or useful this project really is. Maybe people don’t think I have the ability to actually make this project happen. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I want to leave something behind for my community.

So here’s the plan:

1) 1) Order the equipment (Treadmill, elliptical, total body workout, station, 10 fitness mats, bench, dumbbells, scales, and Olympic weight set)2) 2) Pick up equipment and bring it back to Keda3) 3) Set up equipment while bringing a fitness trainer in to teach the staff how to use and care for the machines4) 4) Make fitness/weight charts, make translations for instructions and buttons in Georgian/Russian5) 5) Open fitness center and have 10 fitness classes (specifically for women) led by other PCVs6) 6) The newly trained fitness staff will teach community members how to use the machines and help them devise exercise plans7) 7) Start healthy lifestyle classes focusing on smoking, drugs, alcohol, women’s health, weight, nutrition, and exercise8) 8) After 2-3 months (not long before I leave) sponsor a fitness competition for students in Keda

The idea I want to get across here is that once I leave the fitness staff at the sports school will be able to maintain the whole thing themselves. They won’t need me. This project is meant to be sustainable and provide new skills. The center will provide for the needs of an estimated 200 people per year. Many women keep asking me when the project will be completed, because they want it that much.

In Peace Corps, even Peace Corps Georgia we have a wide range of needs and experiences. For example, my good friend got $1800 in donations to build a well. Building a well is a huge undertaking, and something that seems to be a staple of Peace Corps service (he also dug his own outhouse). I on the other hand am in a small town, not a village. This means the projects I need to do to be effective must be of a different sort. It’s the curse of being in a more developed area. Sure I might have a toilet, and more consistent water/electricity, but the projects I have to do become more complex and difficult to accomplish.

I want to put out another call for assistance in raising money. For those of you who have already donated I thank you SO much. Please keep donating if you can. If you haven’t donated but want to—now is your time. Finally, if you are one the ones who read but think someone else will donate and you don’t have to this is my call to you as well. This project only succeeds with the help and backing of people I care about. So far, the municipality of Keda is willing to provide over $1000 for the project. And their budget isn’t much larger than what many families in West Windsor and Plainsboro would make in a year. I am trying to benefit an entire community and provide education of essential fitness and health information. This information and opportunities are often only open to the wealthiest members of society. I want to bridge that gap.

So here’s the link again: http://www.wideawake.org/fitness-club.

Some people said the site said something about not being secure. I contacted Wide Awake and they assured me everything is safe and secure. So whatever you send will be safe and your identity won’t be stolen.

Thanks everyone.

Once again I am EXHAUSTED. I had to wake up early today and teach three lessons in Keda. Then I packed up all my bags and went to Batumi. I won’t be returning to Keda until after my trip to Ukraine. So I pack up my big bazaar bag and head to the marshutka. It’s still pretty warm out during the day and my light fleece jacket was causing me to burn up. Once I got to Batumi I stopped by the apartment to drop off my heavy bazaar bag, edited my host sister’s essay then went to the university. I have two lessons with my university counterpart and one class alone (my essay writing). After six classes, and traveling to Batumi on a crowded marshutka, and carrying my big bag everywhere I can safely say my legs and brain are in pain.

I really needed this day. And yesterday as well. I feel like I’ve been falling quickly into a pattern of relative laziness. I’ve really been saving my lesson plans and classroom decision to the last minute. I’m not meaning to, and I’m not doing anything else of substance, but I just cannot keep focused on anything for long. It’s quite literally: “Okay, it’s $3000 for a treadmill and…. Oh look, a butterfly!” I know I talk a lot of these issues, and I wouldn’t feel so bad and guilty if I actually got my work done well—but I often don’t. It reminds me of high school and college. I’d have no motivation to do something or get distracted so many times that I turn in some half-assed essay or do poorly on a test. At first you make some mild changes and try to address the issue. But, it never lasts long and then I’m spinning once again down the rabbit hole. You know, after a while you stop caring, too. After a while you resign yourself to whatever it is. Although I say to myself “if I could just read this book for at least one hour I’ll be set” I know it won’t be because I know already I won’t be able to sit down for a straight hour and read. Nope, after two minutes I’ll need to do something else. It could be make dinner, check e-mail, read something else, or play X-Box, but there was always something. Heck, even if I took away all those things the distractions would still be there. I could people watch, I could stare out my window, and I could daydream. Anything to keep the boring stuff at bay.

I mean, anybody who knows me knows I have a pretty active imagination. Just ask my sister Mary about seeing my coming out of my bedroom dressed like a soldier—at fourteen. She looked at me and just laughed. I’ve always been able to cook up some elaborate and detailed scenario and story and play it over and over in my head. When I read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe series as a kid I would imagine placing myself in the story itself. Me as one of the characters—saving Peter and the gang. After watching certain movies I’d place myself within the movie and imagine changing the whole plot. In some ways it’s good. My girlfriend always makes comments about how creative I am, and that comes because of the amount of time I spend in my own head. Then when she tells me I should write I say “Hey, that’s a great idea!” But, I also know that the work it takes writing it down and making a story would get tiresome, and movies are much more entertaining, plus the majority of the detail is already there. I don’t have to make it up from scratch.

Today, I may have been tied, my feet may hurt, and my hands are all cut up from picking corn yesterday; but I did work and it feels good. I feel good when I’m productive, and I like being organized, but I have never had the real ability to stay focused on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. I mean this blog is really often an excuse to avoid doing some of the things I feel like I should be doing. I need to write a lesson plan? Welllll, the blog must be written today, too. Don’t ask me what it is, but it’s annoying.

But, now I’m even bored writing the blog entry. So I’m off to find something more exciting to do.

I’m really crazy tired right now. This will be extremely short. Today I went with my host family to my host father’s village house to help pick corn. We had some fun times and it was REALLY muddy since it’s been raining nonstop the past few days. My work at the Lee Turkey Farm was a good experience that really taught me some useful things I am putting to good use now. It's also come in handy one or two times with chickens... I won't talk too much about it, though. So here we are doing work:

A little corn... Self-portrait picture

My hands got all cut up and Nato took a picture

The village house.

Lunch is served

More parts of the village house

The front of the house

The view from the house

Sorry. Not all posts can be winners. I hope these pictures make up for my lack of writing. But I have 3 lesson plans to take care of right now. I also have to teach 6 classes tomorrow. 3 at the school and 3 at the university. I'll be tired tomorrow, too, so sorry in advance.

Last year I was talking with some of my good friends who complained about having mice roaming their rooms at night. They said they could hear them along the walls and gnawing at things. I considered myself lucky that I hadn’t had to deal with a roaming mouse yet. The other week I came home to my house sister putting a dead mouse—caught in a mouse trap—in a plastic bag and taking it out to the trash. I asked her “tagvi aris?” (It is a mouse?) To which she replies “agher aris” (it’s not anymore). Since then I’ve realized that the changing weather has brought these little critters in from the cold. I decided to keep a look out since then.

I should also point out that in Georgia people are obsessed with Tom and Jerry. Maybe not obsessed, because I’ve never seen anyone watch it, but they are constantly say “Tom and Jerry, Tom and Jerry” to me. Or going, “So, you’re Tom. Where’s Jerry?” I usually just smile and tell them that show is outdated and my niece used to be obsessed with it—insinuating they have the maturity of a (almost) five-year-old girl. That usually gets people laughing and the conversation turns to things. My counterparts will raise hell with students if they say “Tom and Jerry” to me, because it is annoying, and it is also rude. But this is a true Tom & Jerry story.

Last night I was reading these new books a G9 had recommended to me before he left—Game of Thrones. I hear they have an HBO series of it now, too. I was putting away my Nook at about 12:30 and turned out my lights when I heard it: tap, tap, taptap, taptaptap. It was raining last night and I foolishly thought the rain was just playing some tricks on me. I sat up somewhat concerned and didn’t see anything, so I calmed myself down and decided it was just something moving or falling a bit. I put my head down and rest my eyes.

I could hear the sound a bit closer. It was right at the edge of my bed. Then I hear scratch, scratch, scratch. I once again convinced myself it was my eyelashes twitching on the pillow or anything other than what my gut feeling was telling me. I could almost hear this scratching as if it was right to me; right underneath my pillow. Well, that’s because it was! I opened my eyes just in time to see a little brown ball of fur race across my bed, six inches from my face. I tried to catch him that second but he was too quick and ran off. This was war.

No denying it this time. There was a mouse in my room and I was determined to catch him or chase him away. I sat up and grabbed my flashlight and shined it towards all the corners of my room, under dressers, chairs, desks, and finally my bed. There he was again, he was peaking his little head between my sleeping bag and travel suitcase. He saw the light and quickly ran off under the confusion of the bed. So, I took everything out from underneath my bed. Then I turned off my flashlight and stood very still until I could hear him moving about again. I turned on my light and shined it straight at him, and also trying to corner him. Again, he was too fast and hid underneath a dresser and then a chair.

My host father was going to the bathroom when he saw me getting things to help my cause from the kitchen and asked what I was doing. I told him there was a mouse I was trying to catch. He said we’d wait till morning and deal with it then. Mostly I was just annoyed that a mouse had the audacity to stage an attack on my bed. This mouse was goin’ DOWN!

I decided to kick him out of the house instead on catching him. I opened my door and closed all the other doors along the long hallway of our apartment, and then leaving only the front door open. I found him and chased him out the door (he’d been scratching at the door trying to get out, too. Apparently he didn’t enjoy my company much either. From there it was relatively easy. Imagine me at 3:30am, my host family sound asleep in my bed, and me racing down a dark hallway flashlight in one hand and rolled up flip-chart paper in the other. Yeah, interesting thought. The mouse tried to hide out under our hallway coat rack but I took an umbrella and chased him pretty quickly out of there.

My host family also has a vestibule area and there were too many places he could hide in there. But I decided my job was sufficiently accomplished and finally went to bed. I woke up this morning to my host family having a good laugh over my antics the previous night. We then told my host sister I chased the mouse into her room. I’m a very nice older brother. I learned from the best, Dean. Since then we placed a half-dozen mouse traps around the house.

I seriously doubt that mouse will return to my room anytime soon though.

I don't know how many of you know this, but the earliest evidence of wine making is in Georgia. For all of you lovers of wine who talk big about French and Italian wine there is a lot of history of wine here. I personally like Georgian wine a lot, but I know many people who don't. Wine here is not meant to be sipped lightly either--no it's meant to be jugged and the glasses are supposed to be empty after each toast. So, the wine has a significantly different taste and texture than wine we are used to in bottles.

Another distinct difference that I like is that almost all the wine consumed in homemade. Families in Georgia grow their own grapes, harvest the grapes, then make their own wine that will usually last until the summer and then the process continues. With all this practice families really know what they're doing when it comes to wine-making. I have been really looking forward to this day all year. My host father and I were supposed to make wine last year together (before he became my host father), but I was called away for something Peace Corps related and missed it. I've waited a long time for this, and so we woke up early this morning and got to work making the juice.

We didn't do it like in the movies where pretty girls jump around in grapes in a big pool of grapey goodness. Nope, we aren't making THAT much wine so we just did it by hand and a wooden hammer. Basically it's all done by hand, no machines are involved whatsoever. I think that makes it pretty cool. Nadimi spent a lot of time talking about how to make good wine and teaching me so I can make it when I got back to the USA. Again, this isn't a professional and business deal. This is just the wine we drink at supra's and give as gifts to people like Kelly when they come visit. I'll probably be given about five liters of our wine in Fanta bottles to take home with me when I visit for Christmas. My father and I will have a good time with all this wine. Also, a Georgian man can/will drink 1-3 liters of wine at a supra. So my father better be prepared.

Anyway, we make white wine mainly out here in the west. The seasons aren't really as conducive to good grapes as it is out east in the Kakheti region, which is known for it's delicious black wine. My host father doesn't make a lot of wine, but he takes great pride in it. He is well known in Keda for is wine, but he NEVER sells it.

First we clean all the bowls and equipment thoroughly. Then we sift through the grapes and take out all the ones that are shriveled and bad. Then we put it in a big bowl and smash it with a wooden mallet. Then we put the smashed grapes (that have now collected juice) through a drainer and continue smashing them by hand as well. we take that juice and put it in another glass container where it will sit for a few days to let the solid pieces go to the bottom. Then we siphon it out into other containers. We filter it about 3 times over two months. I don't know the scientific process by which ethanol is created, but Nadimi tells me to make good wine it takes 2 months to one year.

Now all the leftover parts of the grapes are put into a big garbage can where it will collect and be "bad wine". Essentially wine that has sugar and water added. Nadimi hates that time of wine, but he can make a lot of it this way. Here are some cool pictures of today's work. We will have more work ahead of us over the next few months.

I do want to point out that I was basically following Nadimi's instructions and trying to understand as much about the process as I could understand. If I got any of the above information incorrect I apologize. Nonetheless, it was an interesting day.

The first batch of grapes. Our nice early morning start...

My host father going to town on the grapes...

Now the juice is being drained into another container

More grapes...

The trash can with the leftover grapes.

The draining of the grapes, and our first little bit of juice.

Pouring the juice into the container.

Sifting through to find reject grapes.

There was a lot of squatting involved.

Mmmmm juice.

Nadimi relieved me of the mallet shortly after

This was actually hard work after the 10th batch.

The completed grape juice.So Nadimi and I are going to have a little competition. I'll make the batch on the left. He takes the batch on the right and we'll see whose wine is better. His will be better. Definitely. As the solid pieces sink to the bottom we will siphon and filter it out to make it clean. Right now it's just juice.Reject grapes that would ruin the taste

Anyway, I'm tired now and have some budget to write for my SPA grant. Hope all is well.

Today I tried to wash my clothes of the day it was raining. I hadn't washed my clothes in over a month...

This is the result.

My room has become a maze. I love the USA "drosha" in the background. Especially the duct tape holding it up. USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA.

Room 3 with socks and some shirts

Room 1 where my students had to come to get lessons. Yes, that is my underwear on the right.

Room 3 again.

This may seem extreme, but I swear I would have hung them up outside if I had had power from 9-5 yesterday. But, I didn't. Since I'm going to Ukraine next week (barring a revolution) I decided to wash my clothes. My host mother was an active (and laughing) participant of this entire ordeal. Other than that the pictures say a lot....

Too bad the 15 "wife beaters" don't show up on any of these pictures. They're a classic icon in Keda.

I think it’s time I talked a little about the Georgian language. You can find most of the information you’re looking for on Wikipedia. So, I will only give you a basic description of Georgian and then go into how difficult this language is to truly master and learn. Georgian is a Caucasus based language and is one of main language families. Even the Romans discussed how incomprehensible the Georgian language was. The written language came about with the spread of Christianity in the 4th century. The Armenians also like to make fun of Georgian and say it looks like spaghetti.

Here’s a quick breakdown of the alphabet and how we transliterate it.

ღ - ghჯ - jუ - uკ - kე - eნ - nგ - gშ - shწ - tzზ - zხ - khც - tsფ - pძ - dzვ - vთ - tა - aპ - pრ - rო - oლ - lდ - dჟ - zhჭ - tchჩ - chყ - k’ (it’s in the throat)ს - sმ - mი - iტ - t’ქ - kბ - bჰ - h

So, if I wrote გამარჯობა what would the transliterated version of that be? Use the above key. Now try: მე ვარ ტომი. Georgian is REALLY hard and really difficult to pick up with all the different forms verbs can take. I won’t go in too much, but Georgian really is one of the hardest languages in the world.

On top of Georgian I am trying to learn Russian. When I came to Georgia one of my goals was to learn Georgian and Russian. I completely underestimated how hard learning a language is. At this point Georgian takes up most of my time, but I’m also learning a little Russian. At this point I can read the words, but I don’t understand most of them.

In the end I find learning a language much harder than I ever thought it would be. I never put my dues in at the beginning either. So now I’m paying for it now. I still have 9 or 10 months left to get a lot better at it.

It’s late and I’m tired. Goodnight.

Ugh, it was IMPOSSIBLE to get out of bed this morning. I set my alarm for 0715 so could take a run and really prepare for my two discussions with the 3rd year students. I hit my alarm on my phone and went to bed knowing my second—backup alarm—would go off at 0815. The first alarm is named “Wake Up” the second alarm is named “REALLY WAKE UP NOW”—but I didn’t wake up. Nope, instead I slept until 0945 and didn’t put my foot on the floor until after 10. I got plenty of sleep last night. I went to bed around midnight and figured 7 hours was plenty of sleep.

The day itself was also productive. I really enjoy teaching at the university. There’s so much to do and my students are responding really well to my discussions. Today we were discussing sonnets about love by Wyatt, Spencer, Surrey, and Sydney. I did the first sonnet myself and used ideas from students to help make it work. The next two we did as a class and I’d give them time to work on it in pairs and then we’d discuss. The last sonnet I read to them and then passed it all on them to tell me what they believed it was. Of course I’d give them definitions of words and helps with some of the older words (some of which I didn’t even really know) so they at least knew the words on the page.

Even with this the girls needed a lot of help interpreting the poem and working through a lot of the language. It’s VERY difficult, and I even had to consult the internet a few times trying to grasp the full meanings of the poems. I was really impressed by their hard work, teamwork, and motivation throughout the entire class of over two hours. During our 15-minutes break I could see students re-reading the sonnets and trying to really understand everything that we talked about. It was just awesome.

Working at the school in Keda is nice, and I enjoy working with the kids and getting to know them. I enjoy watching a kids practice and practice and suddenly really seem to understand the material. I also really enjoy when I can just have a quick and in-depth conversation with my students, too. In a way I think as a professor I’d do pretty well. I’d be working with students who are already quite talented and lead discussions to get their understanding and thoughts. That’s why I went into history in the first place—I enjoy the discussion and the back and forth. At the grade school level I’m not able to do that nearly as easily.

OH! I also have to thank every single one of you who has donated to my fitness center. I’m 1/10 of the way to my desired goal. I doubt I’ll get to $4900, but even another $500 or $1000 will go a LONG way in Keda. So thank you everyone, and please pass along all the information you can to friends and family.

Today was a good day. I went for a run around the center of Batumi and taught two successful lessons at the university and then had another great lesson on essay writing. The students are really motivated and smart. I give them homework to write journal entries every week, and the girls really seemed into it. In this circumstance I am able to talk so freely with my students. They are all 4th year students, many are married, and they are all female. I won’t go into detail on this, but here (and in the USA) I face considerably less classroom management issues with females. I won’t say why because that’s not my place. I’ll just say that I’m able to laugh and joke around and be myself without the class getting out of hand. Also, I’m able to talk to them all in English. I did spend the first 10 minutes talking in Georgian about myself. I want them to feel comfortable and know that I respect them and their country enough to not just be here, but to try and learn their language. I also wanted them to know that I can understand enough Georgian that they can’t have too many side conversations.

That’s basically my entire day. There isn’t too much else to talk about.

I also just took a look and my latest blog post about “About a Girl” has received more hits in one day than any other post I’ve had before. I’m not sure if it’s friends and family reading it again and again, but there were a lot of people from Georgia reading it as well. I’m not really surprised—I put up a photo of a beautiful Ukrainian and suddenly it gets people clickin’ on my link. I’m glad everyone enjoyed seeing that.

I want to inform all my Georgian visitors to check out my sister-in-law’s blog as well. My sister-in-law is an army wife and writes some great stuff. My niece and nephews are the coolest kids ever, AND she is trying to adopt an international child. Yeah, my brother makes a few appearances her and there, but he’s funny looking and we try to hide him in the basement as much as possible. JUST KIDDING! But seriously, her whole blog really took off while my brother was serving his second deployment (first Afghanistan then Iraq). As for the adoption the whole process is amazing and we are all anxiously waiting for the go ahead on whether we can celebrate the adoption yet (we should find out soon). So if you all could take a chance and check out her blog and offer support we’d all appreciate it. Also click on the little link to your left to see some nice information about the boy!

So long and goodnight.

So I never really wrote about some things that have really made me happy recently. It seems all too often many of my blog posts recount my day’s activities or examine something of political or cultural significance. I haven’t explained some of the happenings that I’m looking forward to; thing you should look forward to as well as you read my blog every day for this month.

I am going back to: UKRAINE!!!

I made the decision a couple weeks ago and turned in my annual leave request form to Peace Corps as well. I was worried it might not be approved because it is over a school week, but I got everything worked out to make up all my classes in the preceding week and week after returning. I leave for Ukraine on the 19th and return on the 26th. I will spend my entire time in Kiev. I’m really excited to see my girlfriend and spend an entire week with her. We have a lot of fun things planned. I won’t go into the all, but I’m pretty excited.

I’ve never really talked about my girlfriend on my blog much. Since it has usually friends and family that read my blog I’d love to write more about her—especially considering so many of my friends send me e-mails and Facebook messages asking about her. Thing like: where we met, how we started dating, how long distance is going, what will happen after Peace Corps, what she does, etc., etc. I’d like to write more about her, because she is so important to me, but there are a few things that keep me from doing it. 1) I don’t want to give so much information that it makes her uncomfortable; 2) I don’t want to flaunt anything and be that annoying guy who talks about his girlfriend nonstop; 3) I really want people to meet her and get to know her themselves instead of me just writing about her.

Nonetheless, when I’m in Ukraine I will have to keep up my blog post a day and I’d have to write about what she and I are doing and stuff. So, for anyone just checking in to my blog (which I know many people from Neal’s blog came because he quoted something I said about his blog)—I have a girlfriend, she is Ukrainian, I met her through FLEX training. That’s all you need to know for my blog posts later this month to make sense, and that’s all I feel comfortable really saying about her on my blog. We all need to have something we are selfish and more secretive about. It’s hard when people ask me directly about her, because I don’t want to say too much, but I also want to brag about how amazing and life-changing she has been for me.

So, until tomorrow.

I’ve been doing a little reading about this “Occupy Wall Street” movement that’s been going on in New York City and all over the world. I read about it before it was supposed to start and became interested in it immediately. The funny thing is—if I were still at home I would probably be out there protesting with everyone else. I kind of wish I was there protesting with everyone else. The thing that interests me is how leaderless this movement is, and how young people are finally standing up for themselves. I also think there’s a little bit of Newton’s First Law of Physics going on here, too. For every action there’s an opposite and equal reaction—yeah, that one. The effects of the Tea Party and ultra-conservatives have given rise to a modern day hippy.

I was talking to a fellow PCV who is around my father’s age. He was quite blunt about his generation really being at fault for the financial disaster and the reasons for it. He argues that Baby Boomers have always been the largest group going through the years from the 60s until now. Essentially they get whatever they want, and will step on the other generations to get it. He also says that the Baby Boomer’s attempt at staying alive will drive the next big economic engine of the 21st century; biomechanics. Baby Boomers will try so hard to stay alive and they will rely on my generation to find the ways to stay alive. I agree with this somewhat. I do think that biotech will be a huge thing in the future, and it me even be the driving engine of a new economy, but I don’t think it’s all because Baby Boomer’s want to stay alive and want to use the younger generation.

It’s a biological imperative for the older generation to care for the younger generation and help them live a better life than they had. This doesn’t just mean money wise either. There was another interaction between an older and younger generation that caused some negative backlash. The World War I and World War II generations. It is argued that the WWI generation failed in their responsibilities to make the world a safer more peaceful place; a failure that cost the WWII generation millions of lives. Perhaps we can say that the Baby Boomer generation lived so outside their means, and tried to have everything all at once that they will leave the younger generation mountains of debt financial troubles.

I personally consider myself extremely lucky in this way. My parents have always been so responsible with money and I know they have ALWAYS put the needs of their children ahead of anything else. I say needs and not wants. Things like education and shelter are extremely important to them. They saved their entire lives to pay for college for the four of us. This also sets a good example for me, too. It’s easy—I think I was falling into a pattern as well—to live beyond my means because I considered myself and my family to be part of the upper-middle-class. It was tempting to look around and say, “I can make some risky financial decisions because I know my parents will help me out in the end”. It’s true that my parents will always be there to make sure I’m safe, but they won’t be there to give me gas money to drive 200 miles to party with my friends. They would expect me to work for it.

I certainly don’t think I work as hard as my parents do. It’s actually something that concerns me a bit. If I’m not willing to work as hard as my mom or dad what will I be able to do for my children? It’s scary to think that I don’t actually have the work ethic that will allow me to hold a good job to support my family. I don’t purposely choose to not work as hard, but for whatever reason I don’t seem to be able to sit down and just do the things I need and have to do. It’s actually disappointing and disheartening for me. One day I’ll be responsible for a family, and I’ll be lucky if I’ll be as good at providing for them as my father and mother are.

I do admit, the future of the economy scares me. I’m worried about what will happen in the future and what types of jobs I will be best suited for. I worry I’ll never be able to support a family through the tough economic times we are destined to have. I support everything that our country tries to do, and I realize many of our leaders have difficult choices to make. It makes it harder that Americans themselves are divided between black and white, with little in-between. As a country we have to stop the Us vs. Them mentality (the “Them” being big business, lower-class, illegal immigrants, immigrants, China, Russia, Muslims) and try to focus on finding a democratic solution. Democracy has ALWAYS been about compromise, whether for right or wrong. Our Founding Fathers had to compromise when they didn’t abolish slavery. Why did they do that? So they could have a united nation. We look back and say this was a bad compromise and bad decision that led to a Civil War and put millions of Americans through unbelievable hardships.

But, without that compromise we wouldn’t HAVE the United States of America. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this weekend in Tbilisi talking with other Volunteers is that we all have our opinions, but can also argue the other side. We all need to start thinking as one again, and start seeing our politicians as whole people and not vote for them for a few decisions. We have the ability to talk about this like regular people, but we need to come in with an open mind and actually WANT to talk and not just make demands and ultimatums. We should think of our two-party system like a marriage. Right now it’s a verbally abusive marriage that needs some counseling. I don’t know how to do it, but someone smarter than me should figure it out.

It’s time to compromise, and it’s time to be united again.

Anyway, it’s late and I’m VERY tired, and I know this is riddled with mistakes. Goodnight and take care.

Today I spent the day in Tbilisi and apparently French President Nicolas Sarkozy was giving a speech--instead I went to a place called "dry bridge" where it's like a big flea market. I bought a whole pile of old Soviet pins for my Soviet infantryman rucksack. I bought 11 today, but one (a flag of Georgia SSR) fell off while walking around Tbilisi. None of them cost a whole lost, and it's easily replaced, but it was still a little sad. I got my first pin (the one in the upper right) from my girlfriend and her parents. They know how much Soviet history fascinates me and my girlfriend's mom was kind enough to send me the pin.

After that I decided I really just wanted to collect a whole bunch and put them on my bag (like a proper tourist). I'll continue to buy more, and I might head back to dry bridge tomorrow to pick up some more. It's funny because every time I come back to Keda and show my family the pins my host parents undoubtedly say, "Why did you buy those when we have a whole pile for free?" For tourists these things are awesome, and are like a collectors item. For Georgians it's like pennies and my host family doesn't understand why I'm so fascinated by it.

My commie pins on my commie bag.This is also Tbilisoba, a special holiday based around the city (I always thought it was the founding of the city, but I may be wrong). In also coincided with Sarcozy's visit and so there was a small rock concert.

Looking back at the crowd. Check out the McDonald's all the way to the right.

The concert. My camera was having a hard time focusing because of the crazy lights.

More of the concert

Freedom Square blocked off for Sarcozy's speech. Tbilisi was a bit of a pain to get around today. So, that's all I have to write about today, I hope all is well in the States (and the people from the other 12 countries that now read my blog)!

Today was my mid-service medical examination with Peace Corps. I also got a dental cleaning. The whole process begins with like an hour long consultation with the doctor where I just talked about my current health and all the health issues I've had in the past year. The big thing that I had to talk with her about was my weight loss. I went from 166-170 pounds to 145 pounds. I have never been this light since I was a junior in college.

I'm not sure what caused my weight loss, but I'm not the only PCV to lose a lot of weight. Most of the males in Georgia have lost anywhere from 10-25 pounds. I can only speculate on the reasons for all the weight loss. 1) I don't get to exercise enough. Before leaving I was a bit of a gym nut. I was seriously there every day, and so I put on a lot of muscle. In Georgia I am not able to keep up with my regular exercise routine and therefore I lost the weight (unfortunately most of it being muscle). 2) My diet is considerably different. This is a biggie, and also interacts with reason 1. In Georgia there's a lot of bread, cheese, tomatoes, and potatoes but meat is a bit more elusive to get. While in the states I'd have a meal made up of primarily meat really often. I don't get nearly as much meat and therefore not enough protein. 3) I'm not eating enough. It is true that there are days I don't eat as much as others--especially after being sick. Really my host family won't let me get away with only eating a little and therefore I seriously doubt this is an issue. 4) I have a parasite. I'm awaiting tests to see if that's the case. 5) I'm always sick and suffering from diarrhea. Also a strong possibility, but was mostly last year, and caused much of my weight loss in the first place.

In the end I think it's probably a mixture of 1, 2, and 5 (but mostly from last summer). Today I treated myself to a nice dinner with some friends where I dropped about 30 lari on Veal Fajitas. They were amazing, but again there are other things I can/should buy besides really expensive food. Well, that's it for today. Oh, as for the dentist I still don't have any cavities in my adult teeth. So go me!

So my Mom sent me some things to make tacos with. I have a LOT! I will have several taco and nacho nights with friends and host family, but I can be selfish sometimes, right?

My materials and the very beginning

Making nacho chips

Making the taco stuffing. It smelled soooooo good.

Finished product. Check out my nacho chips as well.

These were delicious and I still have a lot more. Next time I just need some cheese and tomatoes. Now I know I can make tacos and nachos with the right ingredients though. Sooooo, SWEET!!!!

Since the title of my blog comes from the “Canterbury Tales” I decided I should mention that I had a discussion group today about Wife of Bath with a huge group of Georgian all-female college students. If you could have thought that this was an awkward encounter you have NO idea. I was also specifically instructed to keep sex as a superficial element of my discussion. How is someone supposed to discuss Wife of Bath WITHOUT talking about sex??? I mean Wife of Bath can’t seem to get enough of sex. For those of you who don’t know the story I will give you a quick synopsis, but you will be better served reading it here.

It starts in the prologue with the “wife” talking about her five husbands. She says that she feels justified having five, even though the church says it’s wrong because scripture tells to “be fruitful and multiply”. She says three of her husbands were good, and two were bad. The three were good because they were old, rich, and submissive. She would manipulate them through gas lighting and withhold her most powerful weapon: sex. Her fourth husband was bad because he had a lover. Her fifth husband, the one she claims was the only one she loved was 20 years old when she was 40. He would beat her, verbally and emotionally abuse her but she still loved him because he seemed elusive.

Her story was about a knight of King Arthur who raped a girl and was sentenced to death. Arthur’s queen kept him from being executed and gave the knight a quest—find out what women truly want in one year—or be put to death. The knight traveled the country talking to women and tried to discover what women wanted. He heard money, power, looks, love, sex, and everything else but he still felt like he didn’t have the answer. As he was walking back he saw a group of virgins. As he approached they became an old hag who wanted to know what troubled him. He told her his dilemma and she said she’d give him the answer that saved his life, but he’d have to give her something in return. He agreed and she told him to say that women desired power over their husbands.

The knight went to the queen and told her what the old hag said. The queen was satisfied and his life was spared. The old hag though said this man must now marry her as his debt. The knight pleaded not to but to no avail. At night the old hag asked why he was upset and he said because she was old and ugly. She gave him a choice: she could be beautiful but bad, or ugly but good. To this the man responds: “Whatever you want, you know best”. The woman says “So I have mastered you then?” and turns into a beautiful woman and tells him he is rewarded by getting both. They live happily ever after…

So sex plays a really strong role in this story, and I could even tell by the translation the girls read that the most sexualized elements were also removed. It bothers me that I’m asked to discuss a story that is sexually explicit and yet I was only allowed to talk about sex very superficially. I’m not saying I should talk about it to a group of university girls in Georgia because that would be culturally insensitive, but the story itself shouldn’t have been used then (especially by a boy). The discussion I had of the story turned out to also be very superficial because I wasn’t able to be honest about the true meaning. The girls could tell how much I was holding back and I managed by drawing

When the “word” did come up it was meant with a lot of giggling and some scared faces. I can’t really write personally what my impressions are about this, because I’m worried about the types of people who may read this and I don’t want any Georgian being upset at me. Really, I just think that a different tale from Chaucer would have been better to avoid this dilemma between being true with the text and being culturally sensitive. It makes me a little worried about what will happen when I have to teach Shakespeare, because that guy also had a sick mind. If you want an individual’s opinion on sex in Georgia you should read his TLG blog. This post (and Part II) caused a lot of hype last year and plenty of people in Georgia were ticked off. Rightfully so, too. I’m not saying this is anything that I believe or adhere to, and I don’t necessarily think he’s right in everything, but you may learn a think or two. Just read with caution and know that this guy was in country for a month, maybe two months when he wrote this.

Other than that, the university went well. I had my first class on essay write where I introduced myself to students and got to know them. I went over my syllabus and they asked me a lot of questions about food I like. Fairly typical stuff.

I doubt I’ll be able to keep writing this much for the foreseeable future. My posts have to get shorter or I’ll go nuts.

*Edit* I talked with the guy who had the cross drawn on him, and he believes that the retelling of it made it sound more ridiculous than it really was. Apparently nobody said “Jesus will heal you”, that’s what he told me was unspoken (when he originally told me the story he used that phrase, but the nurse never said that). Also she handed him some iodine, not a need, and told him to have a man (not a woman) draw a cross on the spot that it hurt.

I had a weird feeling last night about some of my achievements from high school and college, as well as some of my failures. I realized I often go into things from the beginning full of optimism, new ideas, and most importantly motivation. After the adrenaline wears off, and the real work begins I become lazier and I don’t put as much effort into the things that I could. It means that I go from having the potential to do great things--to only being mediocre, and then regretting it.

The big example I could think of, that still bothers me today was wrestling. As a freshman I had a pretty much even record, and I never considered myself that special. Our coach, Mr. MacDougall would help us all out, and sometimes after wrestling him he’d give me a nod and say something like “you’re getting better, Mr. Lyon”. He would also sometimes compare my older brother and I by saying I was not as strong as Dean, but I was faster and a better technical wrestler (seriously the last time I thought of wrestling Dean he said, “Boy, I don’t know how to just pin somebody to the ground, I was trained to cause pain and kill people”). This was a big compliment considering how much my brother would/could beat me up. Also, freshman year was a turnaround for me. I had wrestled on and off since 4th grade, and I had a really hard year in 8th grade. In 9th grade when I started really improving I felt pretty good, but I’d never top JT Hutchinson or Dan Bessler to get a Varsity spot that year. At the wrestling dinner at the end of the season I went to shake Mr. MacDougall’s hand and he grabbed my hand and said “there are big things in store for you in the future Mr. Lyon, big things”. He told my father the same thing.

I was really excited, and just pictured myself trying to fulfill the faith Mr. MacDougall had in me at the time. I knew I needed to work out more, and I needed to train all year long. I also knew I should attend the wrestling camp the next summer—I didn’t do any of those things. My sophomore year was also a pretty good year for me on the JV circuit. I won 2nd place at the all around JV tournament that year and I had a few stints filling in for Brady Dearden at the Varsity level. One match against a much better opponent in which I refused to let the guy pin me. I don’t remember my JV record that year, but it was pretty high. Once again, MacDougall told me big things were headed my way.

My junior year started off really strong. After the New Year I had a 3-2 record (my two losses were against some of the state’s top ranked schools). I wrestled guys who were considerably stronger than me, but I could use technique around them. I had one hard fought match that when I walked off after a Major Decision victory Mac shook my hand and just said “See. I told you so”. At the same time, I also started dating my first girlfriend and my attention was taken away from wrestling A LOT. Mac really didn’t like his wrestlers dating much, I don’t think, and I could see why. I missed practice one day for dyeing my hair blue, I would occasionally miss practice to hang out with her but it started out as a good VARSITY year. Then I got dropped on my head. I was set to wrestle that day but I had the flu. Mac told me “Perk up, Tom, you can’t look like you’re about to fall over without a fight”. Still, I was not too happy about wrestling that day, but the team needed it and the only other 125 pounder was a freshman I refused to use as a partner because he was too much like a rag doll. Well, in this match I was the rag doll. Maybe I was overmatched, maybe it was because I was sick, but the guy got me airborne and I came back onto the mat (not from a huge height) on my neck. Man, I went from “ouch my head hurts” to “hmmm, where are my toes? I can’t really feel them.” So, I got my first ambulance ride ever, and the whole team pretty much lined up as I was taken out. I was too out of it to really notice though. Turned out I got myself a concussion and a sprained neck—immediately out for 2 weeks. But, after my match our team won the rest of the bouts—go Pirates.

Then when I got back I started seeing a little round spot on my arm. At first we thought it was ringworm, but then it turned out to be a type of Lyme’s disease. I probably could have continued wrestling, in fact I should have continued wrestling but I didn’t. Part of it was being embarrassed about being brought away in an ambulance, and also being scared about it happening again. I missed a LONG time, and I could tell Mac was losing his patience with me. The rest of the season was short and unspectacular. Beat a wimp in the County Tournament, then got beat by the guy I beat earlier in the season. As MacDougall put it, “woulda, shoulda, coulda”.

In the off season I became much more active in staying in shape and practicing with my friends. We’d have our own practices and things went well. I knew my senior year would be my last year, and I wanted to make the most of it. Still, I completely lost interest in wrestling at the same time. Sometimes it felt like I was just going through the motions. The wrestling camp started off great, and the group of us stayed in the college dorms watching TV and playing games. Onne night we were doing some game and I was hiding in the closet waiting for the other guy to surprise me. I heard him coming and popped out to accidently get my eye nicely scratched—It hurt a lot. At that point I didn’t want to be there anymore. The end of the camp tournament started off pretty well for me. I headed to the next round but decided I wanted to go home. I looked at my opponent and just said, “I don’t really want to be here anymore, let’s get this over with”. The guy was a chump and I had to pretty much lead the whole match, even TRYING to lose. I had to practically throw myself on my back to get this guy the win. As for me, I was headed for the eye doctor.

That was my last competitive wrestling match in high school. Coach Mac left that year and I did too. Probably my biggest regret was not wrestling my senior year. I talked to other seniors who said the team sucked, practices sucked, and everything was weird without Mac. They told me it was a good move not to wrestle that year, but I still regret it. Since then I’ve wrestled for fun here and there with people. Nothing serious just for fun. I’ve always done pretty well and I can only think of one time I’ve actually lost (to a guy in ROTC), but I’d take on guys much bigger than me and have Harley go “Wow Tom, I never knew you could do that”. Yeah, most people are pretty surprised when I do wrestle, because it’s nothing something I regularly do or talk about. It makes me really miss wrestling, but also makes me disappointed that I could have done more.

Again, this little narrative was more about how I was given an opportunity. I had the chance to go from good to great, but I let it all go. Somewhat because I was interested in spending more time with a girl, but mostly because I was lazy and didn’t want the hard work. I was like Rocky from Rocky III before Apollo Creed took him under his wing. I look at my college career in the same way as well “woulda, shoulda, coulda”. There are times I feel really lazy in Georgia, too. Times when I just don’t feel like writing my lesson plans, studying Georgian, or writing the grant I need. The little bit of extra work is always a pain in the butt to do, but after I do it I feel so much better. I am still trying, but I think it will take a year or two after Peace Corps for me to really decide whether or not I was working to be a great Volunteer, or settled on being a mediocre Volunteer.

Two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night; my body was achy and my throat felt closed off. I was worried I was having an allergic reaction to my new heavy blanket I put on my bed. I took the blanket and off and managed to get back to sleep, but I the next morning I felt drowsy and my throat was still bothering me. I went to school and battled through my first and second grades classes then went back home to rest. The day was getting progressively harder to get through. I also had a student at 5 and 6 o’clock. I was at the 5pm one, but then went to sleep and then missed my 6pm one. I did eventually wake up and felt even worse. My host family was there and I told them I didn’t feel well. My throat hurt, I was running a low fever, and I was very congested.

I was somewhat thrown off when my host mother (who asks this every time I get sick), “How are you sick? Where did you get it from?” I try to explain every time that I’m just sick. School and marshutkas are pretty much breeding grounds for little organisms. The thing is, my host mother just shrugged and said “maybe, but did you have some cold coke or water? I’ve seen you walking in the house without shoes, that’s probably it”. I try not to get too upset about this, because really, what am I going to do or say? What does bother me is when I’m told not to drink any water and try to take the water off the table for me.

I’m not sure why, but water, especially cold water has a strange stigma in Georgia. I had a fun conversation with some Georgians in the summer who said, “When I was in America whenever I got sick people would just tell me to drink water—as if water cures everything.” I’m not going to say that water cures everything, but water is needed when you’re sick. It all just goes into some of the myths and perceptions some people in Georgia have about the human body. Everything we know about sickness and disease comes from our doctors and science, but for some in my host family it comes from traditions and superstitions.

Another time a man was at our house and he proudly said he was 88 years old. I mentioned that was great and jokingly asked what his secret was. He was dead serious (I know because I asked my host mom later) and said “I’ve been smoking since I was 15 years-old, I know it’s the reason I’m still alive”. Now, most people in Georgia know that’s not true. I also don’t eat a lot of butter, and when a dish has too much oil I just eat a little bit. Once again my host mother tells me that this butter is natural and oil is good for you. Once again citing some source who lived until 90 years-old who ate a lot of butter and oil apparently.

I wouldn’t mind these beliefs as long as someone lets me do what I want (which I usually do anyway), and if I’m really sick I call Peace Corps. As Volunteers we are told not to go to a doctor or hospital in our sites. In fact, the hospital in my town is a little scary (good thing a new one is being built). If you have seen the show Ghosthunters, and have seen episodes in which they go to old abandoned hospitals. Yeah, that’s our hospital. One of my friends who is in TLG had to go to a doctor who drew a cross on his back and injected him with the needle and said “Jesus will heal you.”

As for me, I’m going to drink my tea, and sit in bed until this thing passes.

This was my first week of teaching first and second graders. I have two groups of first graders and one large group of second graders. I taught this group of second graders last year, and I had a huge blast with them most of the time, but now the school decided to combine two classes in to one. There are 33 2nd graders in this class, and my head is about wanting to explode. Somehow, despite all the noise and the fact my throat hurts now I had a great day.

The second I walked into the first group of 1st graders I was a little scared. If you think that a Georgian can be brutally honest then you have no idea what to do was a Georgian 1st grader. If your pants are a little dirty – they laugh. If your shirt is slightly too big – they laugh. Last year I was proudly wearing my brand new scarf I bought in Egypt. A young girl whispered to her friend next to her “Look, he looks like a girly boy!” So when I accidently sprayed a little too much “Click” Axe Deodorant Body spray this morning I was greeted with a group of children saying “Ohhhh suuniiii” (“Oh the smell”). Joy—this is going to be a long year.

But the first graders actually went reasonably well. I had a really in depth and descriptive lesson plan, but nowhere to print it out. Then, there was some miscommunication between my counterpart and I and neither one of us brought the CDs for our music. Ughh. It was still good. I played games and joked with the students in English. We taught them words like “stand up”, “sit down”, “walk”, “talk”, “stop”, and “jump” (they loved that one). Of course, we also the words “Hello”, “Goodbye”, and “I’m –“so they could introduce themselves to each other. In the second group of first graders I took them outside with the “walk”, ‘stop”, and “jump” commands. As we were going outside a group of teachers heard us coming down the hallway and some were smiling and thought this was great, but others glared and whispered “ar sheidzleba” to each other. The only bad part being when a girl saw her mother and then cried hysterically—good times. In second grade I was alone for a while with the 33 students. My counterpart calls me just as class was starting and told me he had to run up to his other work for 10 minutes. I was more than a little PO’d, but I reviewed some of the things we did last year with students, and the handed out their nameplates. Yeah, we made nameplates for our younger students in English, so they could start seeing how it was written.

I wanted to do more, but I found my Georgian still isn’t quite good enough to give detailed instructions of what I want them to do. On top of that, little kids are really hard to understand when speaking in English—in Georgian it’s like talking to a whispering, bronchitis patient about to have their larynx removed (but who still talks amazingly high pitched). Also, sometimes I get the sense that my presence in the classroom is more of a hassle than anything else. In Keda I have a celebrity like status and when I’m out running saying “Hello” to children to whatever they believe that I’m always a fun-loving guy, and class can easily get out of hand. I’m not sure how to break this cycle either. It could also be that have two groups of 20 1st graders and one group of 33 2nd graders makes teaching considerably more difficult no matter what you do.

The Georgian government also came out and decided to buy new netbook computers for all the 1st grade students. It is preloaded with some learning games and alike, and many teachers were given instructions on how to use the computers, but according to the ERC here probably 30% of teachers in the whole district are able to use the computers to supplement learning. I am also concerned about giving a five-year-old such an expensive piece of hardware. I mean, I was watching the mayor hand out these computers and two young boys were trying to hit each other with their new computers… Hmmm…

I do like that they are going to start using new books produced by Macmillian. With DVDs and audio CDs this really could revolutionize the English classroom—if teachers get the proper training that is. I have a lot of opinions about this particular subject, and a lot of things I’d love to say; unfortunately this is not the time or place to write about it. I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m in the Peace Corps, and it’s SUPPOSED to be difficult. Though, sometimes it’s hard not to feel like the chips are stacked against you—especially as a younger teacher.

To be honest, so far this whole experience in Peace Corps has sometimes made me think that I don’t want to be a teacher anymore. Then sometimes when I’m not in a classroom I get anxious and annoyed because I miss the kids and the feeling you get when a lesson goes just right. I get a lot of those feelings when I tutor as well. In some cases teaching gives me great satisfaction, and in other cases it’s just frustrating and annoying. There’s very little a teacher can do with a student that misbehaves. My Masters of Teaching tries to say that in order to reach those students you have to relate with them and reach them on another level. Well what do you do with a student that never has a book, pen, or paper in class? I even went as far as buying him a notebook and giving him one of my nice mechanical pencils. Still, he doesn’t bring them to class. When I ask him why he’s not prepared he looks at me with a smile that just says “Why are you even talking to me? I don’t care.” Unfortunately, I have tried with that kid and it didn’t work. So, I’ll go to another one, the kid sitting next to him and work with him. He’ll start responding positively and I’ll feel better. Unfortunately the first kid still won’t do his work, but nobody is allowed to fail and so he is passed on up to the next grade. Self-esteem is one thing, but whatever happened to personal responsibility?

I saw similar behaviors in my student teaching. A student blames me for their actions and then goes home and tells their parents I was mean to them. That parent freaks out and I’m left with a traumatizing month. I’m not a huge fan of tenure for teachers, and I’d support getting rid of tenure if it meant equality in pay. I even support a longer school year and school days. I think 1-hour classes are better than 45-minute classes, because a teacher can do more in class and make a better lesson. The problem is, what would good teachers do in response to unruly parents and students? A powerful and extremely ticked off parent could possibly get a teacher fired. Really, an unruly student tells his parents many bad and exaggerated things about a teacher, the parents get angry and push for the teacher’s removal. So, an unruly student could get a teacher fired for no good reason. That hands students more power than a teacher, because nowadays a teacher cannot even send a kid into the hall, cannot give low grades, cannot do anything that makes the student even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Simply a detention, which don’t do much to change the behavior.

The truth is more power needs to be given back to the teachers. Teachers Unions exist primarily because it was believed that the administration doesn’t do enough to protect the teachers. It’s very discomforting to work in an environment in which a teacher can be criticized so heavily because a student was acting up. Teachers are also supposed to live up to certain standards that nobody else is expected to adhere to. If a teacher makes a mistake they may have serious consequences. If a young teacher makes a mistake (before tenure) they may not even have a job the next year. The pressure that is put on young teachers, on top of the many problems they face within a classroom are the primary reasons for the low retention rates in schools.

Education is directly linked to every other facet of a nation. Its economy, military, foreign policy, reputation, ability to cope in crisis, innovation, and infrastructure, poverty, and equality are all things that come about from an education. If the education system fails because good teachers leave the profession because they don’t want to face the low pay, long hours (of working and planning), stress, and lack of protection and authority within their own classroom then America will face even harder times when the future comes.

I have been trying to write a blog entry for several days, but I keep getting on a topic and then not liking what was written. Then I’d write about politics but realize I was making claims and saying things without any support—not that I need to in a blog since it’s a journal and not an academic article. I would like to say something about school and what I’ve been doing, but university started today and I’m not needed until tomorrow. I also think you should all know I’ve spent the past 35-minutes looking up the proper uses of the em dash I used above; if anybody strongly objects to its use please feel free to respond in the comments section. In the meantime you can read about the essay writing class I am preparing for.

Last week I was approached about teaching my own class helping 3rd and 4th year university students write essays. I excitedly accepted, but am now busily hurrying up preparing for it. I have never written a true syllabus before, but this is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. I have ten course topics so far: 1. Structure of an Essay2. Types of Essays3. Creative writing4. Avoiding Plagiarism5. Finding a Topic and Writing the Thesis6. Researching and Citations7. Outlining an Essay8. Writing the Essay: Introduction9. Writing the Essay: Body and Conclusion10. Editing

After that I have nothing. There are 15 weeks in the semester, but I will only be there for 11 of them. I’m thinking some of these topics will need more than one session to cover, and I’d also like to give time for students to edit their work and maybe do peer editing. If there’s anything in this list you all think shouldn’t be in, or something that should be in and isn’t, just let me know. I’ve never been a great writer—despite the compliments most of you give--most of my papers in college were mediocre at best.

I’m really excited about trying to teach creative writing. If there’s one thing that I think is missing from most of Georgian education its creative thinking and writing. I’m not sure if it’s an after affect from Soviet education, but students are generally uncomfortable forming independent thought. I think students are too afraid of being wrong and looking stupid in front of the teacher and their classmates. I’ve seen this in the United States, but not in the same scope as I have in Georgia. Mass cheating and plagiarism is generally accepted as part of school life. I don’t know enough about Georgian culture to give an accurate answer. Georgia has a rich written heritage from the Middle Ages, and poetry is a huge part of their life. Maybe I’m looking at the critical thinking in an American-ethnocentric way.

This brings up an interesting point now. What is my right to judge students in western style of learning? I guess that’s something I’ll have to explain to them before class. Why it’s important to know any of this--Hm, I think I'm going to go think about that now. Hopefully I can reflect more on it later.

So now that a few of those more depressing entries are out of the way it’ll be cool to talk about what I’ll be doing this coming year. As many of you know I was working at the school here in Keda last year. I taught English to 1st, 6th, 7th, 8th, and 12th graders. I talked to Peace Corps after school ended about possibly changing things in my site in order to investigate to opportunities for Peace Corps Georgia. See, ever since TLG came many Volunteers in Peace Corps have questioned whether Peace Corps needs to be in schools. If the purpose of Peace Corps should be to get a country to the point it can sustain itself, than TLG is Georgia being sustainable. So I talked with Peace Corps and we decided that we could look into other possibilities.

My first idea was to work straight out of the Educational Resource Center here in Keda. This would mean trying to help the schools in the Keda District raise money for their projects and trying to advance the English cabinets and assist the workers with whatever they may need. I already have done some things like this already, and I’ve been very successful. I also get a great feeling helping schools other than my own.

At the same time another Volunteer told me about an opportunity to work at Batumi University. It’s all new, but it looks like I’ll be helping out in the History department, and doing practicum work for American and British Literature. I was also just approached to possibly lead my own class on essay writing. This will possibly be three days a week and will be a great opportunity for me to really hone many of my skills and will also be a big challenge and change. I do sometimes wonder if I’m completely qualified in fields like History that can be so specialized, but I am here to help and I’m sure I’ll find a place amongst the faculty.

I will also be continuing my English teaching for 1st graders in Keda twice a week. So it looks like I’ll have 3 jobs 5 days a week! I sure hope I’m not going to be over-committing myself (something I have a tendency to do) and then letting many people down all at once. It will be REALLY hard, but I think this coming year will be really good if I can stay motivated and get my work done. It can be extremely rewarding for me, the students, and the faculty. This will also be good experience for me in general and what I want to do when I finish Peace Corps; whether that be teaching or graduate school.

So wish me luck tomorrow with my first day of school, and I’ll keep you updated with everything that’s going on. Hopefully I won’t be too busy and will be able to continue keeping my blog current.

This picture always sends a powerful chill and shake down my spine. When I look at it I can't help but feel mixtures of sadness, anger, and disbelief. The way the skyline suddenly disappeared in New York City best exemplifies the way we as Americans suddenly had a large piece of collective conscious suddenly disappear as well. This post is for all of us.

This is not my first attempt at attempting to write a blog entry about September 11, but I’m hoping this will be my last attempt. I first started writing about how America has changed since the attacks and the consequences of it (mainly focusing on how it has lowered America in the eyes of the world) of it. Finally, after writing about 3 pages about that I didn’t like it. I don’t think I or anyone else should use this day to discuss politics or the ramifications the attacks had on the USA. I’d be more than eager to discuss it any other day, but not today. So, I finally made the decision, and had the insight to realize that this post should really be a memorial and thoughts about the people who were killed during the attacks, and a little bit about where I was and what I did that day.

I was a Sophomore in high school. I grew up in central New Jersey in a very ritzy area where thousands of families commuted into New York for business. That’s why when I was sitting in Algebra II, and the announcement came on the loud speaker from the principal that the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane that my thoughts were “Which one of my friends has a family member at the Trade Center?” My mind flew to the girl down the street and her father, but I soon got the message he was on the other side of Manhattan. The other tower I don’t think had been hit yet, and many of us assumed it was a small plane that just ran of course or something. When the auditorium was full of students watching TV on the projector saw the actual extent, and then witnessed the second airplane hit we started freaking out a LOT more. Cell phones were just beginning to pick up steam, but all the lines and connections were down because of too much traffic. Teachers tried to maintain more order by telling students to go to class, but also understood most students wouldn’t listen to them, and also they wanted to see as well. I skipped gym class when I watched the South tower get hit, and then I remember watching South tower fall and then our teachers and principals got us out of the auditorium. I sat in Chemistry class while the teacher tried to teach a lesson, and the rest of us sat angry and stunned. Then the Pentagon was hit, and minutes later I can recall with near precision seeing lower Manhattan disappear behind huge plumes of smoke and debris of what was a 110-story building. We all know the rest of the story of that day…

The rest of the day is a blur. I came home and my mom asks me where my neighbor friend was. The school called her and said he’d be coming home with me. We do get a hold of him and he tells me it’s okay and his parents are trapped in Manhattan, but are safe. We spend the rest of the day watching the television in nervous fear and desperation. Until 2001 life was easy and normal. Lives, including my own changed that day and the weeks following it. I can remember driving passed the train station near my house and noticing cars that never moved, left by their owners who would never return. There were a lot of horrors that day that I will never forget.

Those killed in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania were mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, husbands, grandparents, grandchildren, and friends. People died of all ages and nationalities. I think we should remember the day and what it meant for families and how families were unexpectedly and cruelly separated that day. This post is dedicated to them, because I will never forget them. This post is dedicated to the soldiers and marines who have died since then to make sure this never happens again. This post goes to the families of all of them.

Please go ahead and share what you were doing, and where you were when our lives changed forever.

First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who donated to my project. I am always hoping more and more people will donate a little of what they have to help those who don’t have.

A many people in the West Windsor-Plainsboro area remember, Mr. Welsh passed away about one year ago. I say this only because soon I will begin a new year of teaching (where I’m not sure, but that’s a whole other story) and I want to remember the man who acted as my role model for teaching. I have yet to see anything in the NJ newspapers, Facebook, blogs, or the wwp-today website about Mr. Welsh this year. This is my one year tribute. In Georgia it’s traditional to hold a supra two weeks after someone’s death, then one month and year after, so on and so forth (basically there’s always a supra for someone in the past), that way they are never forgotten. The one year supra is always a special occasion, and although I’m not able to hold up a wine glass and say “gaumarjos” (cheers) for Mr. Welsh, I will pay him a tribute here in my blog.

Mr. Welsh knew that the reason I became a teacher was because of him and the influences of the other social studies teachers at WW-P South (Mr. Connor, Mr. Stuart, yes even Mr. Bond). But Welsh had the random unexplainable outbursts and random tangents that always got us interested. We learned, but we also had fun. I remember senior year he went into the teacher’s lounge to get some papers, and the entire class piled into the elevator which was in the classroom (yes, imagine 20 17-year olds piled into the elevator, it reeked). Everyone except one student who was told if he left class one more time he’d fail or get detention or something. So just imagine Mr. Welsh’s surprise when he walks back into the classroom and there’s Goldberg sitting all alone just shrugging his shoulders. Then imagine the whole class piling out of the elevator back into class. The look on Mr. Welsh’s face was one of amusement and disgust (“Really? All of you fit in there? That’s gross”).

Welsh classes were not always all about the subject matter of the day. Often something would get brought up that was an important “life lesson”, and Welsh would then dedicate the rest of the class to making sure we left more aware human beings (usually with a tears of laughter coming off our faces). Anybody who had Welsh knew all about his “slippery slope” and the “10 Things You Should Know Before Graduation”. I also had my AP Government class with my then girlfriend, Erin. Erin and I always sat next to each other, and I swear we were Mr. Welsh’s favorite couple (although I doubt the rest of the class felt that way), and he’d always give us some kind of advice here and there. He was always very interested in every aspect of a students’ life. He cared about the whole student, not just their academic success.

Now if any of you remember from my “About Me” I really wanted to be in the military. When that didn’t happen and I went on to teaching Mr. Welsh became my role model as well, and he knew it. I went to interview him for several assignments I did, and he even got featured on the webpage I had to make for the end project. He gave me a lot of advice about growing as a teacher, and some encouragement I still have to apply today. Mr. Welsh had a way of relating to every student in the classroom: popular, unpopular, jock, emo. Everyone had a place in the Welsh classroom. That is still something I try to do, and it’s much harder to do when in a different culture and language. In fact, I have tried some of the Welsh tactics in Georgia, and usually they just get people staring at me like I’m a complete freak, and then moreover people around town then talk about how strange and uncouth I am. Yes, Mr. Welsh was probably uncouth, but he got the job done, and people loved him for it.

I never actually tried to understand Mr. Welsh’s personal life. Mr. Welsh was a teacher and therefore he separated his personal and professional life completely. He told me this one story (I won’t go into detail) where he gave the middle finger to a Disney character in front of the entire senior class during senior class trip because he was unable to separate his personal and professional life. Here in Keda it’s almost impossible for me to do that. Of course I don’t act like my real self in front of students, because I am not their “friend”. Those few times that I do I always regret later. Also, it’s normal for everyone to know your business here. I do whatever I can to hide certain things about my personal life from my students. It’s funny because sometimes my host mother will just start talking about my personal life to guests and such when students are present. My host father always looks at her like: “What are you doing? That is not allowed”.

Mr. Welsh also made sure to tell me that it could take me 4 or 5 years of teaching to really feel comfortable in front of the classroom. 4 or 5 years to be in the position like he was in front of the classroom! Mr. Welsh loved teaching. And I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t admit it, but he loved the way students saw him. We loved the way he would walk around the school with a boisterous yell just to say “Hello”. He made WW-P South. And I think the whole North vs. South argument is put to an end just because we had Welsh.

Wherever you are Mr. Welsh you are certainly not forgotten.

Hey, so the last post was pretty touchy feely. This post is going to be me begging a little… okay, maybe not begging, but you get the point. I’ll probably be writing about this more and more in the coming weeks and months as well, but please listen up.

If you take a look at my Current Projects tab you will see I am trying to build a fitness club in my town as part of my secondary project. The thing is I need to get money to buy all the equipment and pay for transportation and alike. This is a project that so many people in my town keep asking me about and keep wondering if it will work; they are very excited. The project is on the site Wide Awake. Wide Awake is a non-profit group that handles donations and helps people like me get the projects they need for their communities. They are great people and have only the people they help in mind. All the money given to them for donations goes to the projects. THERE IS NO ADMINSTRATIVE CUT! I have been using Wide Awake since I arrived in Keda, a former PCV started it, but he passed it on to me. Since then I’ve worked with him, and the director of the Educational Resource Center here in Keda to get write these grants to get things for the schools in our region. We bought books for kids under the poverty line, beehives for a family, 100 dictionaries for the schools, chalkboards for some classrooms, science equipment, and just a bunch of other useful things. Most of these projects have been under $500, but I decided to use this site as a way to raise money for my fitness center. I am looking for $4900, which sounds like a lot (it is), but if everyone I know can pitch in a little, and they get their friends and family to pitch in some I should be well on my way to getting fully funded.

You may be asking yourself, “Why should we give money to a FITNESS CENTER?” Well, after the collapse of the USSR the athletic departments that had been funded very well fell apart. Many of the community centers went under due to underfunding, and athletic competitions and education began to fall behind drastically. This can even be seen in the home as well. In a 2005 WHO study , 59% of women and 49% of men in Georgia were overweight. By 2015 that number is going to go up 64% and 55% respectively. Now, these numbers are nowhere near the United States and many developed nations, but it’s still very high. Also, unlike the United States, people in Georgia don’t have access to equipment or proper information to keep themselves healthy. Keda has an indoor sports complex, and a brand new wrestling/kickboxing/martial arts center (there is a Georgian champion in one of the village for wrestling), and I decided that a great addition is to make the sports center more community friendly was to put in some treadmills and elliptical machines.The nearest place for people to exercise is over an hour a way in Batumi, but the cost of one of those fitness clubs is enormous. Those clubs are pretty much reserved all for people with money, and tourists. Building a fitness club in Keda will give people in a small town some of the luxuries only to the rich can use now.

The fitness center will also double as a healthy living classroom. After it’s built I’ll have the trainers there learn basic weightlifting, weight loss, and endurance exercises and they will hold classes. I’ll bring in female PCVs to hold yoga classes to get more women involved. In fact, I was planning on making it women’s only day one day a week. Then the fitness center will also be a classroom for healthy lifestyle classes. We will use the space to discuss HIV/AIDS, drugs, alcohol, tobacco, nutrition, mental health, and lots of other things. The best part is, Peace Corps has a committee for healthy lifestyles with LOTS of information I could use and people that could come and do lessons. It really would be amazing! People in my community don’t have access to information about these topics, and I’d love to have a real place where I can get people to come and listen to lectures and talk about some of these issues.

This is a really important step for the people in Keda, and they could really use all the help you can give. If you find yourself in a giving mood please donate anything you can for the people here. Tell me and I’ll also have you name engraved on a plaque that will be hung up inside the fitness center forever. That’s right, YOU WILL GET YOUR NAME ON A PLAQUE, WRITTEN IN ENGLISH AND GEORGIAN.

So, again, here’s the link and please help my community. Tell your parents, friends, family, church group, boy scouts, and anybody else who may be interested. Thanks again everyone, and have a great Friday!

Here are some pictures of our building and the fitness room:

This is our community sports facility. The room with the lights on is my fitness center.

It's not huge, but I already laid out a great plan for the windows. Putting the treadmill facing the window so it looks like you're running outside.

On the other side of the room. We'll keep one of the desks as a sign-in desk to track how many people come in.

Right now it's a really boring room, but everything works! No work has to be done of the room itself. I will be attaching a new electrical socket to the far right wall.

Alright, take care everyone. And remember, one more time! Your name on a PLAQUE in GEORGIA

I went into Batumi yesterday for a simple day trip. As I was gathering all my things I quickly reached for my Atlanta Braves baseball cap on my wardrobe. As I left it to put it backwards on my head I noticed something on the bottom. There was something muddy, with a single hole through the diameter. I knew it was some type of nest some insect had made. I didn’t want to think it, but I knew it was a wasp. Yep, a wasp had made a nest in my hat, and another wasp came springing out of it. Ugh, just a little disgusting right? I really thought I needed to tell everyone that before I continued. Plus, it’s a funny story to make up for the mushiness that you’re about to read.

When I was writing one of my previous entries about what I’d be doing in the future, I naturally started thinking of the past. Would things be the same? Would my friends and family be the same? Would I be the same? So, I also thought about some the experiences I’ve had in my past, and how they relate to me in the present. The family I was raised in; the friends I have/had/lost; the relationships I’ve had.

Not to brag, but I had a really good family. I never really lived without REAL want (sure, I wanted a Nintendo when I was younger, but I never got it). I learned from my parents how to delay gratification and not just buy because I wanted. I learned how to care for my money, and I learned basic respect. From my siblings I also learned a lot. Of everybody in the world your siblings you will know for the longest amount of time. With the help of my parents we all learned how to get along and play fair. More importantly, we learned how to fight fair, too. Mary and I have been able to have numerous fights, but we still love each other, because we know how to fight fair. Catherine and I may disagree about something, but we are always able to have a discussion without trying to kill each other. And Dean doesn’t actually cause me too much physical pain when he beats me up. And in general, we are always able to make fun of each other, but we don’t take it personally. We know it’s all joking and fun. Therefore, I learned to develop a bit of thicker skin to jokes made at my expense, and also learned how to lovingly joke at someone else. I learned the value of personal space from Mary, how to be empathetic from Catherine, and how to live with personal honor and dignity from Dean. Of course, my mom and dad were always instrumental in all of these things, too, but without my siblings I wouldn’t have been able to practice it.

I am also pretty lucky to have some of the best friends. I am still close friends with all my old high school buddies. We are spread out across the whole world, but that doesn’t stop Vas from reading my blog every day (I know you do, buddy); it doesn’t stop Q and his wife from sending me packages; I always know what Pham is doing; and Timmy flies fighter planes from aircraft carriers. My college buddies are also still around. One even came to visit me last year. Again, many of them have contributed to me in some way shape or form. Just like siblings I got to practice some of the tools I learned. And I was always surrounded by a group of girls who taught me a lot about being a good boyfriend and learned a lot from a female’s perspective.

I’m not going to talk about each individual relationship and past girlfriend I ever had. That would be interesting, but inappropriate and wrong, considering we shared so much. Each serious relationship leaves a significant mark and impression that you take with you forever. From my first relationship I learned that I needed to stop being so picky and controlling about things. I had to be more sensitive to the needs and feelings of the other person. Now I did practice this with my second girlfriend. In the end I learned I had to be myself in all things. I learned that I had to stand up for what I believed in. I also learned to be patient and I became a really good listener, too. Of course, I continued to learn how I could argue and fight, but still get by. I learned how to take responsibility for the things I did wrong, and how to forgive others when they do wrong to me.

Obviously all of these relationships ended, and it hurt and sometimes there was curling into the fetal position not wanting to go out for days. Sometimes it included hours of Buffy the Vampire Slayer watching. Usually it consisted of going to Cate’s house and playing with her dogs, helping her do things, and just talking. Now, Cate is pretty awesome in the way she can listen and even if we’ve gone over the topic before, remains calm and collected. So at the end of the relationship I was able to stand up and be a much wiser, caring, stronger person.

One I was talking to one of my G9 friends after a long night of playing beer pong at a bar in Tbilisi. We were waiting to get a taxi and I don’t remember what were talking about, but I remember trying to organize the troops to get home. She looked right over at me with the most serious and complimenting expression and said, “Tom, I think you will be a really good dad one day.” Honestly, one of the best compliments I ever had. But I have to thank all my family, friends, and even past girlfriends for teaching me how to even be considered like that. So thanks everyone.

Disclaimer: This blog post as a few areas that could be deemed controversial by some people. It discusses aspect of living and relating to people in different cultures. This only reflex issues of cultural misunderstand and does not reflect of harassment or anything else.

I think I’ve told many of you that as a Peace Corps Volunteer I am not supposed to blab on about anything and everything in my blog. In fact, I think it’s generally a good rule of thumb to never blab off about everything in a blog. I mean, it’s not all about trying to give off a good impression of Peace Corps to make the recruitment numbers go up. It’s more about making sure we remain culturally sensitive. Therefore, if I have had a particularly hard day dealing with the culture or people I have to be VERY careful about how I say or phrase it. That’s why I have my handy disclaimer on the side. Still, it also means that my blog becomes rather fake.

There is a TLG (Teach and Learn Georgia) teacher who does write about all the little cultural nuances and tries to explain and rationalize them. I don’t necessarily think he always does a very good job of it, and is often pretty cultural insensitive. His beliefs about Georgian women, sex, and pride are extremely anachronistic and often without merit. From what I can tell he spends a lot of time in Tbilisi, which is a whole other world in Georgia. I’ve never met the guy before, but his blog is nonetheless interesting, and he discusses controversial issues that I’d never be allowed to touch being a PCV.

But, when I say I’m feeling frustrated, it’s hard to actually explain that on my blog without getting e-mails from Peace Corps wondering why I’d post something so controversial. I’m not even in a bad mood about Georgian culture today, but once again, I must be general, and will only discuss culture as a generalized subject. Because culture changes the types of, and expectations we may have in our interpersonal relationships. The friendships I have with Georgians are completely different than I’d have with a friend in the USA. Same with my host family.

So what happens when two cultures come together and they aren’t fully understood? Well, it’s like two people with different personalities meeting multiplied by 100. Without communicating with each other on a straight, non-accusing level communication breaks down and assumptions are made instead. When approaching someone from another culture it’s important to ask A LOT of questions. Especially when you are initially offended by what someone says. Tempers will flair, sometimes over a simple misunderstanding. So, simply asking questions and doing so in a non-judgmental or harassing manner has always seemed prudent to me in tough cultural situations.

Next, give the benefit of a doubt to the other person (again, not during issues of harassment). Sometimes I may have felt that I was insulted or hurt, but in actuality the person meant very little harm, or it seems perfectly normal to them. In that case, I just try to let it go. I once had a conversation with a Georgian man at a supra who was pressuring me very hard to drink. I started to get noticeably annoyed and upset and he leaned down and told me that it’s his culture. No, not his culture to force wine down your throat, but it’s cultural to offer and make sure the person knows it’s okay so they have a good time. So now, instead of getting upset when people try to force me to drink, I just compare it to them trying to get me to eat a lot. It’s about being a good host. Now, some of you may argue with me, and of course in many situations I’m wrong, but in giving people the benefit of a doubt I am able to calm myself.

Third, accept the difference and just let it go. When I was doing the FLEX teaching we talked a lot about culture, and helping students prepare for US culture and schools. When referring to culture we had a phrase, “Not better, not worse, just different”. I don’t think this is ALWAYS true, but in most minor things (i.e. issues of space, privacy, food, dress) it is certainly true. And, if people fight over things like that, instead of having a reasonable, thought out conversation it can destroy the relationship you have with that person.

Finally, don’t take things personally. It’s way too easy to have misunderstandings, and if you are too sensitive when someone tries to let their culture out, you will have a really hard relationship. If a person suggests something, and it hurts you as a person, then follow steps 1, 2, and 3 before getting upset. In fact, repeat 1, 2, and 3 several times before getting upset. But, if you latch onto one silly phrase or word, and then judge the whole situation, culture, or person based on that, you’re in for a world of trouble.

Nobody likes to be misunderstood. And when misunderstandings lead to fights it’s even worse and more destructive than ever. Here in Georgia, when people constantly misunderstand me, or what I’m saying (not language wise, but culturally) and get offended I get annoyed. First, I’m annoyed because I’m not being understood, and people get mad at me for a misunderstanding. Secondly (and this is my issues), it causes me to shutdown. The introvert in me gets the power, and I will be less likely to open my mouth or be honest with people In the future, because I’ll feel like I’m walking on eggshells.

So, lighten up, accept the differences and changes don’t jump to conclusions, and ask questions.

When I woke up this morning I had the inspirational sensation that I needed to be productive today. I took out my daily/weekly planner my mother so kindly sent me from the USA and began planning out my day and week. On the list I have exercising and running, study Georgian for 45 minutes, study Russian for 45 minutes, write in my journal, start thinking of a SPA grant idea, and write a blog entry. I’ve been getting a lot of happy vibes from people who enjoy the new layout and the tabs up at the top. I’m glad you all enjoy this layout so much, and as for the new title you have my PCV friend to thank for that one.

I spent this past weekend in Batumi. It was another PCV’s birthday, so he and his wife came all the way out to Batumi to enjoy the last two weeks of summer. The weather was great! I sat on the beach for hours and hours, and didn’t get any sunburn. Maybe I’m not as albino as I thought. I was hanging out primarily with a group of G11’s, and it was awesome getting to know all these new people. I enjoyed their perspectives on things, and they seem to be pretty motivated and fun. Still, it’s weird when they look at me to answer some cultural question that I really don’t understand myself. So I might just make my best guess and then the group will talk about it. It was a great weekend, and a good summer sendoff.

On the 19th was Peristsvaleba (meaning: “change of color”, or the day of the Transfiguration of Jesus according to the Orthodox Church. I’m not exactly sure what this supposed to mean, but it also marks the day that the weather is supposed to change and winter makes its first move. Legend has it that somewhere in the mountains a big lamp of ice falls into the water and the weather becomes milder. Now, this summer was already pretty mild. Last summer I remember burning everyday and being so sweaty and sticky I had to take a shower twice a day. Last year the weather did get mild around late September or October, but it didn’t get downright cold until December. Hopefully this mild summer doesn’t mean a freezing cold winter.

This also marks my final summer in Georgia. Yep, I’m counting down my days and seasons. I will leave next June, a week before the summer season actually starts. From here I just need to get through Fall (a breeze), Winter (shoot me), and Spring (often still a bit chilly), and then I go home. It’s weird to think about everything I’ve been through here. From training all the way to now, and I’ve been in country 16 months.

I have a lot of plans and ideas for my final year, but I don’t know if I’d consider my first year a huge success. There was so much I should have done but didn’t for whatever reason. There was a lot of battling frustrations in work trying to integrate that I didn’t do some of the things I really wanted to. Now in my second year I am more determined than ever to get things done. I have all these ideas in my head, but I need someone to come and help me write the grants for them. I hate writing grants. There is nothing enjoyable or fun about writing them. I’d rather stick my finger in an electrical socket and use the insurance money to buy the things I need. It all just requires so many tiny details I don’t really think about, and half the questions they want answered are almost exactly the same as one I already answered. I mean, I understand the function and purpose, but REALLY!?!?! Do I really need 17 pages of grant writing for $3,000? Really?

Also, a G11 asked me what my plans were for after Peace Corps. Wow, those types of questions just make me feel so old. Is it really getting to that point I have to think about the next step in my life? I guess if I’m interested in graduate school I should start deciding on applications. The truth is, I’m not sure what to study, and to be honest, going to graduate school for the sake of going to graduate school sounds like a horrible idea. I would consider going back to find a teaching job, but that all depends if Governor Christie is finished screwing teachers over. Then I could look for a federal job, which my good friend tells me “Well, it’s stable and pays well, but it will eat your soul”.

Thanks, Harley. So what would I study in graduate school? History has always been my specialty, but getting a degree would mean years of work, a dissertation, and entering a job field that is so oversupplied that I would never really justify the time and money spent. Then there’s Psychology. My friend is getting his PhD in clinical psychology and I think he is pretty busy. I would consider school psychology. Still, is psychology something I want to spend years studying and my whole life working in? I could do social work or something, too, but again, do I really want to do it and then spend the time and money on something I may never use? Then again, do I really want to teach at a high school or middle school and be an underpaid and unappreciated worker? I’ve seen teachers who burn out so quickly and I could feel those feelings build up inside me during my teaching here in Georgia. Sure, there are differences, but is it something I want to get myself involved in? If it was between teaching at an urban school or going to graduate school in history? I’d probably take graduate school.

Alright, time to go achieve the other things on my list for the day. Have a great week everyone.

Two posts in two days! Eureka! I was talking to my ADHD sister, Cate, and we were just comparing notes on how unmotivated we could actually be. We discussed how sometimes we hyper-focus on things to an extreme for a week, and then we let it die down. In this case, I hyper-focused on my blog, and on the website I’m building for the Education Resource Center here in Keda. It’s a work in progress, and I don’t really have website building skills, but I’m slowly making my way up, and learning a little HTML while I’m at it. Then I also decided I didn’t like space too much, and I’m too obsessed with the color black. I like black, it’s true. It’s enigmatic and creates a sense of foreboding and mystery (in my opinion). I personally think this new layout is more my style. It’s a traveler’s layout, and it’s very Peace Corps in my opinion.

So, I was in Batumi last Friday after dropping my girlfriend at the airport. I was in a bit of a down mood, and I mostly just wanted to be alone for a bit. I went to a café in Batumi that another Peace Corp guy helps out at as his big project. It has cheap food, clean, welcoming atmosphere, wireless internet; a good place to sit and do work. Suddenly a stampede of new volunteers came in. I was already talking to one of the new guys (G11s), and mostly we were talking about nothing (actually I don’t remember what we talked about, I was trying to be introverted at this time), but he did bring up one thing: Our group (G10) were very negative about Peace Corps, Georgia, and our overall experience. Now first I just tried telling him that he needs to be here over winter and he needs to start working before telling us that.

The funny thing is, G10s thought the group before us, the G9s, were being too negative as well. Maybe we hung around G9s too long and picked up their negativity. Maybe after a year we just get upset and negative. Or, as I see it, it’s almost like a right of passage. Each volunteer has their own story, good or bad, and we complain and compare stories. Usually it’s not too serious, but after a year the negativity is more of hazing the new group than actually disliking Georgia or Peace Corps. We enjoy being the ones to say “Oh, you wait and see”. More than likely the G11s will do that to the G12s and so on and so forth. It’s like when I was in elementary school, and my older sister Mary would try picking on me by saying “you won’t make it in middle school”. Then as I was getting into high school she’d say “oh you’re going to have a hard time in high school”. It’s like we’re trying to be an older sibling to the G11s, while the G9s were the grandparents. Since the G9s were done, they didn’t care about all the negativity. It was nothing to them, just white noise as they went on to new things.

I wanted to write something like this before G11s got here. But, I never got around to it while I was cuddled in my sleeping bag with ice forming outside of it… It seems a bit late now, since they are well on their way to being competent and wise volunteers. I just think they should know that although we may complain, or we may get angry at certain things, we are all still here. We are still alive, and we haven’t left. If we REALLY hated it here we’d leave, there’s nothing stopping us, and we have a free Delta ticket home. Most of us actually like it here. Sure, work is hard, and sometimes I don’t think I’m doing much. But yesterday I was talking with my host sister. She mentioned how badly she wants to travel and find new things out in the world besides Georgia and Keda. She was in Ukraine for 1½ months and really learned and grew during that time. It was in that moment that I realized I had rubbed off on her. I have helped change her life (hopefully for the better), and have given her the knowledge and tools to build a life for herself. You can make a difference in Peace Corps, maybe not a huge one, but you can make a difference to people on a 1-1 level.

That’s not say it’s not always annoying. At one supra a man said “I want you to teach your language, but not your culture. Your culture is bad and Georgians don’t want it”. In the best Georgian I could, and in the nicest way possible I said “I’m sorry you think that, but I can’t teach my language without also teaching my culture, too. There are good and bad things about every culture, but what do you know about mine?” (the actual Georgian sounded more like “Sorry think I can’t teach language and culture. Cultrue is good, and your culture is good and bad, and my culture is good and bad. I must teach culture too.”) Now those things are annoying, really annoying. When you come somewhere and you feel like people don’t really care who you are or where you come from. When you tell them, “No, I’m done eating” and they think that means pile more food on your plate. Yep, that’s annoying, but the way of life. School can be hard, but it is possible to make a difference in people’s lives.

The same G11 later asked me “Hey Tom, is your Peace Corps experience the way you thought it’d be?” My only answer was, “No, but what is really? I knew I wasn’t going to truly understand everything, and I was ready for it”. But, I did make sure to tell him that I think the experience nonetheless is beneficial and good. I’d probably do it again, and I’d recommend it to others who are flexible and have a good sense of humor.

So, you’ll have good times, you’ll have bad times, but in the end I think everyone here will look back and be grateful they were here, no matter how big or small their accomplishments.

Alright, I’ve been sitting in the same chair for 2 hours and my back and butt hurt. Goodbye virtual world.

Yeah yeah yeah, I know. I am a total tease when it comes to writing, but here I am now. I think my main problem is that I wait too long to write, and then I have some massive blog post to write that I hate writing, and you all hate reading. So maybe I'll stick to shorter, less detailed oriented blog posts. But for a nice change of pace, how 'bout the new layout? I'm still working on it, but the greenness was getting a little too much. Every time I opened my blog it looked like someone had puked all over it and written something in the middle with alphabet noodles. I'm not sure how I feel about the whole space thing in the background, but I'll play around and see what I can do (I mean, it's not like I'm doing anything else, right?)

Since my last post I had a visitor. The girl I went to go see in Kiev (remember, I don't use names on my blog) came to Georgia. Once again, the details of her visit I don't feel like going over, but we have PLENTY of Facebook pictures, so go check them out if you wish. We were in Kobuleti first, then we were in Keda, then Batumi. It was a great 11 days, but too be honest, it was a little short. I also know this may have come off as a bit of a surprise to many people, especially people back in the USA whom I didn't even tell about this girl. I'm sorry about that.

The 2 months I've been wandering around a lot. I haven't had a lot of time to just sit down and relax. It also means I haven't had a lot of time to sit and study my Georgian or get ready for the coming year. There's really a lot I need to do, and not a lot of time. Ugh... I still don't think this summer was as big of a waste as last summer. For one thing I don't play Internet Checkers as much (yay!). And I think my movie watching has decreased 60%.

Really, I know a lot of you who know me know how much trouble I have with motivation. Before getting into Peace Corps there was a serious thought I might have ADHD (it did take me 6 months to write the Peace Corps essays), which would explain a lot. I really don't think people realize how annoying and frustrating this can be. It's hard to be in a job, and know there's something I need to do. Knowing what needs to be done. But as soon as I sit down to do the work guess what happens? Nothing. In fact, even if I turn the internet off, I can be at my computer for 2 hours and have NO idea what I had been doing.

I think there's a tendency to laugh it off a bit, especially from me. It's really kind of annoying and pretty depressing to deal with. Where's Small World Coffee (a small coffee shop in Princeton I used to be able to work in) when I need it? It doesn't help that Georgian culture enables this. I know some people have this idea that it's a load of crap. That if someone wants to do it, they should just do it. Yeah, tried that approach, it doesn't work. The only thing that seems to work is large doses of caffeine. I sometimes have brief moments of reflection where I'm able to write and do A LOT. Hmmm, I probably sound a lot like American politicians right now. "Hey, we have sooooo much to do, but we just can't/won't do anything about it!"

See, you know I'm putting off doing work (writing a grant) when I'm writing in my blog. I know I've written about this before, but it's true! Here's the last post about this, and a list of everything I should/would do. Well, I don't think I did any of those. I really need someone behind me with hot/sharp metal objects to motivate me.

Now ADHD is kicking in again and I don't feel like writing anymore.

PEEEAAACCCEEEEEE

So as some of you may or may not know; I spent the past few weeks wandering around Istanbul and Kiev, then I went to the final FLEX PDO here in Georgia. I was away for about two weeks, but the entire vacation was really awesome. I don't really want to write about my day-to-day doings (what I saw, what I did); I'm just going to tell you a brief overview. So, that's my mini agenda for this post: 1) Istanbul; 2) Kiev/Kyiv; 3) PDO

On July 5 two other PCVs and I came into Batumi and we stayed the night in Keda. The night was filled with a mini-supra and lots of Russian talking. I was once again tamada, a role that is more of a burden for me than an honor. But, I guess I get to practice my Georgian more, right? On the 6th we went to Batumi, played Settlers in a cafe for a while and then caught our bus around 530. The bus ride was okay, I actually was lucky and slept most of the way. We got in during the afternoon and Another volunteer and I immediately bought some doner and then we walked on to our hostel. The hostel itself was so awesome. It was called Second Home Hostel. Our accommodations was okay, but the staff really made it all worth it. They were all so nice and awesome. One of the guys even bought me a birthday cupcake and put a match on it. We saw all the big sites, and we climbed along the old Byzantine wall. It was a lot of fun, and we found some cool places that you don't see on a tour.

On one day we got to see another PCV who had a 12 hour layover and decided to come in and we spent the day together. It was a nice and relaxing day. It's also incredibly weird to see PCVs outside of their "natural habitat". Later on that day, I went to the Haiga Sofia, and my friend went for a walk (he had seen the Haiga Sofia before and wasn't terribly impressed) and when we met on the outside we were having this serious discussion about religion, divorce, families and such. Then out of nowhere this girl starts talking to us. At first I thought, "Hmmm, prostitute maybe?" I mean I've been living in Georgia way too long. Then she took us to Taksim, or the cool and party part of Consta... I mean Istanbul. I still didn't trust her, and began to think maybe she wanted to kill us. Well she didn't try to kill and and she was really cool and took us lots of cool places. Turns out I think she really just wanted to practice her English, especially considering she was 32 years old. So, not trying to kill us.

My birthday in Istanbul was pretty cool, too. We went to the Topkapi Palace and took a look at all the nice jewels and stuff that make the crown jewels seem petty and peasant like. Then we ate at a Burger King, which I hadn't had in over a year. I devoured 3 Burger King Sandwiches in a matter of a 2 days. The other Volunteers then took me to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. It's a bit of a tradition for me to get Mexican food, last year being a big exception, but it was so awesome. Thanks guys. I tried to go to bed early, knowing my shuttle to the airport left at 545, but I didn't get to bed until after 0230. This is one of the two adventures I had while in Istanbul; let me explain them both.

First one occurred on the first day we got there. We stopped at the bank and I decided to use my USAA account to take out money. It worked fine so I was happy. Then when we got to the hostel I wanted to check to make sure the bank processed my credit card payment. Well, I was using a weird Turkish keyboard and kept typing it funny. So finally I got locked out and then it told me I had to call USAA. I tried to get Mom and Dad to do it for me, but they aren't allowed. Luckily my Bank of Georgia card works and I wasn't too poor. Unluckily, I still haven't found a way to call USAA from Georgia. Turns out it's going to be a huge pain in the butt. I also bought a 4 lira card to try and call, but that didn't work either. UGH!! Luckily, BOG still worked and I could take money out there (but for much higher fees). I also had plenty of US dollars on me that I knew I could exchange, which I lost on my last day, and I'll tell you how.

So, I woke up around 500 and got all my stuff ready. I usually put everything I need into my pockets. So I get on the shuttle and drive the 30 minutes to the airport. As we are pulling up I was feeling to make sure I had everything: wallet, check; sunglasses, check; iPod, check; Nook, check; passport, Che... NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! As I get off I'm tearing apart my one Soviet era Infantryman's pack trying to find my passport. Realizing it's not there I tell the driver with hand motions and frantic yelling. So we call the hostel who knock on my buddy's door (and I can hear them mumbling and possibly calling me an idiot), but yes, my passport is there. Luckily I had given myself plenty of time and I got in a taxi and took it all the way to the hostel and back (with my passport, but now also phone-less, it doesn't work in Turkey or Kiev anyway). The whole ordeal ended up costing me about $60. I was so angry at myself, but when the taxi driver realized I was missing something important he booked it, and was really nice to me (thought he may have ripped me on prices).

I did arrive in Kiev, and my friend was there to pick me up (she was scared because I was one of the last ones out of passport control). Turns out it was pouring rain and our car almost got stuck a few times, and I'm laughing thinking this is the coolest thing ever. I'm also very tired... So I meet her roommate and stuff and we continue on to the apartment I was renting. We decided we'd make some dinner and then do some dancemania with the DDR. WELL, I was practically falling asleep so my friend told me to just go to bed and they'd wake me up when food was ready. Two hours later, I'm drowsy but somewhat re-energized and eat some delicious food her and her roommate prepared, and [poorly] danced. The rest of my trip in Kiev was amazing. We took loooonngggggg walks all over, a ferry boat ride, we checked out the old monk caves, some churches, had some nice fancy dinners... but unfortunately all you gossip queens out there aren't gettin' anything else. Leaving was sad, especially knowing that next up was PDO!!

Once again, not much to say there except AWESOME. The FLEX kids are some of the some amazing and motivated students I have ever met. They keep surprising you at every turn, and I still believe that in my one year in Peace Corps, FLEX is by far the most important and influential thing I've done here. The other volunteer and I added one more person to our water drinking contest. I won again, but with a serious cost to my intestines. Really, I'm just so proud of those students, and I wish them all the best in the USA. Oh, I got funniest teacher again. This time I think I earned it more than last time. Last time it was mainly coffee and nervousness, but this time I knew my information and just let it go.

Now I'm back at site and things are moving and progressing nicely. I may have some big news comin' up in a few days. I'll keep you all posted. So with that, check out my pictures on Facebook from my trip, and have a great summer.

So a few friends of mine have begged me for a new blog entry. I certainly owe everyone a new one, and often I will sit at my computer and say, “This is they day! This is the day I will write a new blog entry”. But then I’d start doing something else and completely neglect my writing duties. So what has brought me back so suddenly to write? Well, for the first time I’ve had numerous people tell me that I am a good writer, and they actually READ my blog. So, I decided I’d let everyone know that I recognize your desire to read my blog, but I won’t promise to write more, because I know I’d be lying.

I participated for the first time as a Pre-Departure Orientation Teacher for the FLEX Program. If you don’t remember FLEX (or Future Leaders Exchange Program) is a US exchange program for students in Eastern Europe and Central Asia. It’s part of a broader exchange program called American Councils. So, another PCV and I were teachers there for three days. It was a great experience, and really awesome working with highly motivated and excited students. For my first PDO it went pretty well. I’m pretty sure some of my students thought I was crazy. During two lessons we had a talk show format, and I had a tendency to get a little eccentric, but then other times I’d be way too tired to do anything interesting. Nonetheless, I have another PDO in mid-July, and now I’m more ready and prepared for everything. My Teacher Assistant and I have more experience and know more about what to do. Also, the other PCV did PDO’s last year, and he’s been a great guy to ask questions and get some advice from. I’m pretty excited, and I think the students were pretty pleased.

One thing is that we had to do nightly activities with the students. So the other PCV and I decided to do sports both nights. American football and volleyball. Now as many of you might know, my skills with ball sports are pretty limited. In fact, I think it’s gotten worse since I was younger, but I have bad eyesight, and refuse to wear glasses most the time (because once you start wearing them continuously you will only need a stronger prescription every year). Then at one point we played basketball, also something I’m not terribly good at (besides setting up a pick here or there which at one point got me a good elbow to the face). In general, I have felt a complete downfall in my athletic abilities since coming to Georgia. The first weight I lost on coming was all the muscle I had spent a year gaining. Since then I’ve traded a lot of muscle for fat, and don’t get nearly enough exercise. Meanwhile, my host family insists on getting me back to 77kg, but without realizing that if I were to weigh that again it’d ALL be fat. So when I’m saying “No, I’d rather not have four eggs and seven scoops of sugar” they go “No, no, no, eat! You must be 77kg again!” No that summer is around I should start getting out more and taking runs every morning. The hard part about that is everyone stopping me while I go and asking me if I’d drink wine with them, then getting offended when I refuse, BECAUSE I’M RUNNING!!!!!

School ended last Wednesday. It certainly doesn’t feel as if it ended. In America when school ends everyone feels it happening. We sign yearbooks, we take pictures, and we rejoice in the end of a “successful” school year. Here, the last day of school didn’t even faze me. We played Bingo, and I cleaned out the desk and cabinets (or attempted at least, I mean who leaves a bottle of ketchup in the desk?), but other than that I just didn’t care that much. This would actually conclude my official first year of teaching. What it successful? Well, it’s over, and I can honestly say… No. Most people think I’m being too hard on myself, but I think based on the amount of support and training I’ve had in the past this year was not nearly as productive or satisfying as I would have wanted or liked. I know the first year is the hardest, and I’m not an English teacher, but I would have expected a little more excitement from my students about me being there. I expected more interest in have a more cooperative learning atmosphere. Sometimes I’d get myself so frustrated that my students got the impression that I was done with them (not what I wanted).

There are some teachers around me who have the most amazing relationship with their students, and I’ve always wondered why it was. Well, my one good friend (who is officially coming back next year), who is also the most experience foreign language teacher (he taught Latin) I know summed it up well. He assured me I was doing fine, that his first year was an “unmitigated disaster” and that I WAS a good teacher, and working hard. But most of all, he’s in a village, and I’m in a town. Keda isn’t a big town, but it’s still a center. Class sizes are bigger, and students have a little more going on outside of school. It’s harder to truly integrate into a larger community. Everyone knows who I am, but nobody KNOWS me, which lends itself well to rumors and gossip (good and bad). It doesn’t help either that I am ALWAYS away. From FLEX stuff, to Peace Corps stuff, I am only in school about 75% of the time. This doesn’t help my reputation amongst teachers or students, but what else am I to do? These absences are not my doing, and I never missed a class out of pure laziness or to go somewhere just for me, they were always for a specific purpose, but nobody else in my school sees that.

So in other updates… I managed to get 30 Georgian-English, English-Georgian dictionaries for my school. I am awaiting another 40 to distribute to some of the surrounding villages. Basically they are classroom tools that will help me do more reading and writing activities. Right now we only have a English-Georgian dictionary, and a Georgian-English dictionary (that I brought from home) in our class. So next year the students will be use a dictionary in class to help them read and write. I am also considering a check-out system, but it’d need considerable oversight. Next on the list is a book cabinet for these books (and future books), and new chalkboard for the English rooms throughout the Keda region (yes, I am biased because I am an English teacher)

Next week the head of the resource center and I are heading to the nearby town of Shuakhhevi to pick up bees. Yes, bees. Another project I’ve been doing is getting some beehives for families in a nearby village. This project was initially thought of, by a former Volunteer in that village who has been a HUGE help for me in getting a lot of these projects going and finding funding. I met him last year, and I’m hoping I’ll see him again this year when he comes.

Today I went into Batumi to check out a catalog of exercise equipment for my planned fitness center. I’ve been a bit concerned with the grant for this, though. Not sure how to really get started, and I’m not a very detail oriented person (nor are the Georgians I’m working with), so basically I say, “I want a fitness center. Where’s my money?” Grant people say, “How much do you need?” I say “$5,000”. Then they want to know where all that money is going!! Can you believe that?!? It’s all those little tiny things that always get to me (like money for a marshutka to bring the equipment). I guess such is life, and if you’re asking for US taxpayer dollars it’s expected. Here’s my question, though. I have all this oversight for how I spend my money… why doesn’t everyone else? It seems with all this oversight and grant stuff we shouldn’t have a debt problem! Still, I did find some exercise equipment that was pretty expensive. THEN, I was patiently (okay, not patiently) waiting for my counterpart while he was talking to the Minister of Education in Adjara (my region) and being bored and hot. He comes out and tells me he ran into a guy whose brother bought $17,000 worth of exercise equipment from Germany, but then didn’t use it. His brother then took off for Ukraine and left him with all this stuff. So this guy is selling all of it for $3,500. That’s right in my price range! If I could get that I’d be extremely happy. We’ll see what happens, but it’s looking more and more like this project will actually happen.

I am planning some vacation time as well this summer. On July 6 I am going to Istanbul with a few friends, and from there I am flying to Kyiv for another few days. I’ll be spending my birthday (July 11) somewhere in Istanbul of in the airport awaiting my flight the next morning. I’ll be away for a few weeks, but I’m pretty excited to see Istanbul, because I’m told it’s an awesome city. My friend from Austria, may also come meet us there if possible. It’s been almost 11 years since I’ve seen her, so that should be awesome. And about Kyiv, well I love the city. I wish I had had more time to spend in it back in March, but that’s what this vacation is for.

This past weekend I went on a one night backpacking trip with some other Volunteers. I was pretty excited, seeing as this was my first backpacking adventure in over a year. Well, it also turned out to be the worst backpacking experience of my life. It rained the entire time we were out. Everything was wet. The trail was well made, but the people who made it don’t know how to climb mountains via proper switchbacks. So we gained 700 or 800 meters of elevation in about 3.5km. That’s pretty steep! I was exhausted, and didn’t expect a trail this difficult. Needless to say, I was not happy, and it also highlighted the whole being out of shape.

Anyway, this is long enough, and I going to keep working on this grant… siighhh.

‘til next time.

Oh and happy late Father's Day, Dad.

So in the spirit of some of my previous posts about my family here is one for my older sister, Catherine (Cat) on her birthday.

The truth is, I don’t have many REALLY young memories of Catherine. She was 9 years older than me, and interested in boys and New Kids on the Block for the longest time. I remember in England when my parents had to overnight a package back to the USA (it cost a lot) and Catherine was made into a dishwasher to pay off the debt. But, by the time I was 9 years-old she was off in college at Bryn Mawr. I DO remember Cat’s graduation from high school and college. I remember drawing a lame picture of a plane for her when she was sad her freshman year of college.

After Cat’s return from Germany for her mission I remember her going off to Michigan for graduate school. I remember talking to her boyfriends and such on the internet, which was always a good time (courtesy of, Dean). I remember when her and Jason got married, and wearing my varsity jacket to the reception and my first introduction to Jason to him saying, “Eyyyyy, I’m the Fonz”, something neither Jason nor Catherine will forget. I remember walking the Muir Trail with her. I remember other backpacking trips, too.

So about 16 or 17 I formed a more complete understanding of my older sister. First, she is extremely nonjudgmental. You can tell her anything, and she’s not going to think you a bad or evil person. She might recognize a mistake, and tell you, but she will point out all the good things you do, too. I remember my senior year of high school I had a party at my house while my parents were away. Lots of people booze and such (many of my fellow classmates said it was great party, I guess I had a talent). Well, my parents found out, and I was pretty upset, because I basically thought my life was over. I talked to Cat a lot over that week, basically really upset about how much trouble I was in. Cat never got on my case, told me some of Jason’s stories and told me it’d be fine. It turned out to be fine, though being grounded the second half of senior year was hard on my social life.

In college Cat gave me a lot of good advice about life in general. There would be times that I’d have a rough patch, need advice, and Cat was always able to give it to me. Again, without judging or looking down on me. In 2004 and 2006 I helped Cat and Jason move (so they owe me), and she came back to our hometown. She had two dogs (which I love), and spent a lot of time with them so I could play with Cleo and Zoe.

When I moved back to New Jersey for grad school I spent a lot of time with Cat. Whether just relaxing around, watching TV, talking about stuff, it didn’t matter. The big thing was that as we were both older we had a lot more similarities than either of us realized as we were younger. Cat was the closest one to me during my crazy 2009/2010 time in which unemployment and loneliness were at its worst. I could always go to her house and feel better, talk about how I was going crazy, and play games.

Cat and I also share the unusual Lyon quality of loving old dead things. She’s an archaeologist, and I’m a historian. Basically she digs up these old things and tells us what it is and what it does. We historians then write books about what it meant long-term. Cat was such a big help on my thesis my senior year, something I couldn’t have really understood without her. Plus, I think my interest in Greece began because I saw how cool it was watching her!

So this is Cat’s birthday present. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISTER!

It’s been one full year; 365 days since I stepped out of my house in Plainsboro, New Jersey. 52 weeks since I stepped into my father’s light-blue, 2004 Toyota Prius and crossed the Delaware River to Philadelphia. Today marks my one-year mark as a member of Peace Corps. Has it felt like a full year? Sometimes when I look back I wonder where all the time went. Then I remember the majority of winter was spent cuddled in my sleeping bag; or reading in the room with the wooden stove (that I managed to try to light myself on fire with; that’s another story). Most of last summer and PST is a bit more fuzzy, because I certainly don’t see things in the same way that I did then. I hadn’t started teaching yet, my language skills weren’t nearly as good, and I wasn’t that lonely.

In today’s Peace Corps Georgia, my life is definitely very different, but I’m not completely cut off from the rest of the world. Loneliness, and thoughts of home was something I expected to encounter, but I didn’t expect to be in such reliable contact with the outside world. While I am writing this I have one tab open on nytimes.com, one on my Gmail account. On top of that, I have angry birds going on in another window (yes, even I got into Angry Birds, it reminds me of the Snood craze), and a SPA grant in another. Basically, not only am I multi-tasking, but I’m multi-tasking in almost the exact same way as I did in the States.

The new Trainees arrive tomorrow, and I am headed to Tbilisi to help do some presentations at Orientation. It’ll be interesting, because I remember showing up, jetlagged, excited, but also somewhat dumbfounded and seeing the G9s. They seemed so confident in Georgia, and they almost seemed like our older brothers and sisters telling us about life in high school (despite many of them being younger than us). It’ll be interesting to see the G11s. I will be doing a few things at Orientation. First, since I’m on the Safety and Security Council I am giving a presentation, with some other members, on some basic safety and security concerns in Georgia. Second, I’ll be working with the Medical Unit to discuss our favorite Peace Corps topic: diarrhea (they call it Food and Water Safety). Finally, I’m doing some stuff on alcohol awareness and how to avoid pooping your pants out of drunkenness at a supra. All in all, should be a good time.

I come back on Saturday, but will then spend Sunday in Batumi giving a lesson at an English teaching center. The purpose is to help teachers develop new teaching strategies. I am pretty excited about it, but from what I can gather the students will be pretty knowledgeable already. You may say, “Hey, great, less for you to do!” Well, I’ve never actually seen them before, and I’ve never had to do a lesson with advanced students. So I have no idea what lesson to do.

On top of that, I am trying to find a secondary project. I think I found one in the sports area of Keda. Basically I want to put in a fitness center and do some healthy lifestyles training and workout trainings for members of the community. I can get the training things done fairly easily, but the equipment for a fitness center will be a lot more trouble. I’d love some free weights (benches, leg presses, squat, dumbbells, etc…), but I’m afraid they’d be too expensive to ship, and I can’t find a good place in Georgia to buy anything. The prices themselves aren’t going to be that bad, but the shipping is going to kill us. Then I need to do the training, and I’m not completely sure how I’m going to go about that either. I could conceivably do some training, and then have those I trained train others, but I’d rather bring a professional, or at least someone with more experience to do the training (but that’s money).

I promised some discussions before, but at this point I really don’t feel like getting into politics. If you must know, I’m pretty disappointed in the US political system; especially when I have to watch Colbert and Stewart for the real news. It reminds me of Cleon, and the demagogues of old. Don’t get me wrong, demagoguery is not new, but the Athenians got rid of Cleon by putting him up against the Spartan Brasdias. Cleon was killed. So in short, send our modern day demagogues to do our fighting, and let the sane people to the real talking. Do people not realize the Electoral College was made to separate people from the selection of a President. I hope that if a crazy person is elected, the Electoral College will stop it. The problem, I fear, is that the Electoral College is probably filled with even crazier people. Sigh… the sane just cannot win.

Oh, and 90% of Planned Parenthood money goes to abortion. Oh wait, that’s not meant as a factual statement. Ugh. Or that Obama isn’t an American. There are people that believe this? It’s on both sides of the aisle, and I’m just sick of it, and I wish there was something we could do. I would love to see some real progress politically and economically in America. Plus, this desperate grab at what the Founding Fathers would do needs to end. They created a system of government that allows for change and growth. First and foremost, it must start with the individual. I make $150/month, another $150 goes to my host family. If I go out every weekend I’d easily lose all my money (Tbilisi costs a lot, and Batumi is even worse) in two weeks. No, instead I forgo a lot of the things I want NOW, for the chance (and money) to take a trip to Istanbul and Kiev in the summer. It’s the idea of delayed gratification, and living within your means.

This goes for the country as well. Don’t demand to keep all your little benefits (yes, including Planned Parenthood) and not expect to pay higher taxes. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and until Americans learn this simple fact we will always have trouble. Still, I believe in this country’s ability to overcome great challenges, but people forget it wasn’t without sacrifice. Our parents were so wealthy that Americans (including myself for a long time) didn’t think we had to work as hard. I half-assed my way through college, and then got worried when I realized that the world is very different (and that my parents weren’t going to let me be lazy). Peace Corps has certainly changed my perspective on work, and although ADD still takes a toll, I at least recognize what I must do.

That was much longer than I anticipated.

I’ve been really excited for spring, but spring won’t come without first raining on us for 2 weeks straight. I’m serious. I haven’t seen the sun in 2 weeks. So to keep myself occupied I’ve read Lord of the Rings. I’ve always meant to read them ever since my older sister, Mary became somewhat obsessed with them. Then in my senior year old college and into my graduate study year my then girlfriend was obsessed with the movies. We used to sit there watching Lord of the Rings, and the special features writing our respective papers. Basically, I’ve been surrounded by it, but never picked up the books. So I found them on Project Gutenberg and started reading. It was slow at first, especially reading the Hobbit (which is a children’s book). And I told another PCV who loves LOTR that I was getting a little fed up with it. I quickly finished The Hobbit and was unable to put down LOTR. I think my host family thought I hated them as I threw myself into the world. Great movies, great books. Wish they had them in Georgian, I’d give them to me students.

As for Easter I had an interesting experience. My host mother and I had a cold, and therefore did not attend mass at an ungodly hour (host sisters came home at 4am). We did do a few traditions. So one similar tradition is to dye eggs, but in Georgian they only dye eggs red to represent the blood of Christ. Then two people hit the eggs together, and whichever egg loses you eat. Well so far I am 5-0 in the egg banging contest. There is a great video of my host sister, Nino and I performing this tradition, and my victory dance afterwards. Then my tutor and I did it as well, and I won twice. Basically this is my main success in Georgia in the past two weeks. Yes, winning at egg banging is my main victory (I know how that sounds, and I don’t care).

But I also had a hard time with the whole fasting thing. My host sisters were fasting, but I kept offering them the chocolate that my parents sent me in the mail. Not a good idea… US chocolate it much better than Russian [fasting] chocolate.

This has been a sufficient entry for all of you 10 people that actually read my blog (my parents, Vasav, Erin, Lora, and maybe 7 more PCVs who have nothing else to do). Later gators.

Hello all,

I promised a blog entry (and I owe many of you e-mails), and I hope this one is nice and long, but I’m tired and I’d rather enjoy the warm, spring weather we’ve been having. Well, I guess that’s a lie, because it’s pushing 6pm, and it’s cooler, so I’m probably just lazy. So I’ll put on some Family Guy, continue my Gmail conversation with Erin, and write this blog. Basically I’ll watch Family Guy, ignore Erin, and write jlkkkkk re ally bbaadddllly. So I promised to talk about a lot, but I’ll focus this one on teaching, because it’s what I’ve been thinking about the most. But first, I want to talk about what I’ve been up to.

So our conference in Kobuleti was really interesting. My counterpart didn’t stick around for the whole thing, but I learned a lot of new and interesting information about writing grants and coming up with a secondary project. That was cool, but the best part was the hotel we were staying at. It was called the Georgia Palace Hotel and all our rooms faced the beach, which gave us some awesome sunset pictures. Our rooms were large; we had our own slippers and bath-robes. It was hard to leave, but I knew I’d be heading to Kiev, so it was okay.

On the 19th I got up nice and early (2am) for the driver to take us to the airport. In the car I met the two Teacher-Assistants (FLEX alumnae) who I’d be working with. We got to the airport nice and early and I thought, “Okay, cool. We have plenty of time.” So we played some cards and listened to music. Well, we didn’t have time. Our plane was supposed to board at 4:30, but then at 4:15 the two girls (who know English, Georgian, and Russian) heard the announcers say in Russian something about last call. We hadn’t even gotten through the security check (which is at every gate). Basically we jetted as fast as we could and made the little bus that takes us to our plane. I can’t really tell you about the plane ride, because I was sleeping, or in a deep snore at least with Radiohead on my iPod.

We got into Kiev around 5am, and drove to the American Councils office in Tbilisi. An interesting car ride, as I sat in the front seat trying to sleep, while the driver and the two girls argued about something. As we got out of the car one of them goes “you were pretty quiet”, to which I responded something to the effect “Well, I was TRYING to sleep, but instead you guys decided to have a verbal wrestlemania in the car.” Still, it was 7am at this point, and I hadn’t slept in 48-hours, but we decided to walk around Kiev a bit.

Well, nothing was open, and we had no money anyway for coffee, and it was cold. Nonetheless, our walking brought us all around Kiev (but not to the churches I would have liked). By the time we got money and some food in our stomachs I was forced to walk from one clothing store to another. I didn’t buy anything, but it did give me a good opportunity to people watch. I didn’t understand anything people were saying, but being in those stores was like being in one in the USA. There was even a mall! Basically, I got to see a ton of clothes, but no churches. Eh.

We met the rest of our group around 3pm (yes, 6 hours of shopping), packed up the cars, piled into buses and headed out. The first night I was exhausted and didn’t do much except sleep. The next day we had presentations and learned a little about what was expected from us during the TOT. For those of you who don’t know this was a Training of Teachers. In the summer we will host Pre-departure orientations for students accepted to go to the United States in the exchange program, FLEX. And our training was set up in the same way we’d run our PDO. We were split into different groups and then each Teacher and Teacher-Assistant had to come up activities and a creative approach to the predesigned lessons. Because I had two TA’s, and the other Teacher didn’t come (he went last year), I had two lessons to teach. Busy, busy me. I think the actual lessons went okay. They weren’t the best I’ve ever done, plus I don’t usually work well working as a team with another teacher (something I’ve learned since being here). I tend to try and hog all the talking, and then end up missing something I wanted to discuss. But we got through it, and I met a lot new and cool people. There’s a video of me and a TA from Moldova singing Opera style. It’s a little ridiculous and more than embarrassing, but I think I have a career path now.

Anyway, I’ve been writing this for too long and I’m bored. Plus, I haven’t lesson planned for next week yet (Bingo here we come). Oh, if anyone would like to help out my community with a small donation of a laptop computer, please contact me!

Now for your viewing pleasure…