Architecture Nouveau

This is the new walking bridge here in town. In contrast to the older Soviet style buildings, it stands out.  Because of its shape, it has been graced with many nicknames: The Always Bridge and Sandra's (the president's wife) Maxi Pad are among a few.

Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

Apartments are crazy here in Tbilisi.  From the outside, they look sketchy. The outside doors are often plastered with advertisements, the hallways covered in graffiti, and many times the stench is too much to handle (for example, today I went to my friend's house and had to jump over a huge puddle of pee to get to the stairs).  However, once inside, the actual apartments are magnificent. 

Some people blame it on the Soviet mentality....never show your wealth. You wouldn't want others knowing that you are able to afford nice things. It is a way to keep thieves at bay. 

Others explain that the common areas are not owned by the tenants, but rather the city. I guess people from the city don't come out too often to paint over the graffiti.

I am not sure what the answer is, but I think it's a shame.  I wish there was a little more pride in property ownership.

This is the outside door of a friend's apartment building.

This is the hallway inside the building.

I guess some people didn't like the advertisements!

This is the outside building of another friend's apartment.

Not sure if the single lightbulb's eerie feeling is truly captured here.

One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

We moved out of our apartment yesterday and I am once again reminded of how crazy our landlady is.  I won't tell you about how she calls every day to "remind" us to do things (like wash the curtains).  She is just completely and utterly over the top.

Last August, when we were negotiating our move in, she was obsessive about showing us every little detail of her house and making sure we knew exactly what condition it was in. I understand it is hard to let go if you love your house, but if you are committed to renting, then at some point, you just gotta let go. One of her demands was that we hire her cleaning lady. We explained that we have a nanny who is wonderful and also helps with the cleaning. That was not good enough for her. We went back and forth for what seemed like forever because she didn't feel like just anyone could clean her place. She almost didn't rent to us. Finally, she agreed and then created a list of all the special products she wanted us to buy for cleaning. She went shopping with Tamriko and spent hundreds of our Lari on sponges, soaps, rags, and brooms. She then spent the next hour giving special instructions on how to clean each item in her kitchen, which rag to use when, etc. Honestly, she was exhausting.

But the best part was when she left. Aidan showed me his feet and I just had to start laughing.

For someone who had just put us through the wringer about cleaning her apartment ALL AFTERNOON, she sure didn't care about cleaning her floors!

Giji. That's what they would call her in Georgian. Giji gogo.

They say it is SO easy...but it's not. Believe Me.

I was once told that the term Turkish toilet is not politically correct.  So I tried squat toilet.  Nope, didn't work either.  I found out that eastern style toilet is the most appropriate way to say it.  Well, whether you call it Turkish, squat, or eastern, they are a lot of work and very messy.

It has been almost a year since I moved here. I love so many things about Georgia, but their non-western toilets don't rank high on my list (see original post about my toileting issues). I thought by now I would have built strong thigh muscles, been able to pee anywhere, and most importantly, not get soaked in the process. When I walk into a bathroom dry and come out with a wet pant leg, everyone can see through my cool demeanor.  Now that it is shorts season, it's just bad news all around.

In October, I was close to purchasing the Go-Girl because I couldn't stand the pressure of having to pee standing up/squatting. However, I would like to alter their motto a bit from: Because life's greatest adventure shouldn't be finding a bathroom. To: Because life's greatest adventure shouldn't be finding a bathroom where you can pee worry-free. Alas, I didn't order it because at the time I couldn't figure out how to get anything shipped here.

I have managed to mostly avoid the Turkish toilets, and my skill level has increased a bit. There was one time I came out dry. Yes, one time.

I guess I have to stick to showcasing my strengths. Sadly, peeing in a squat toilet is not one of them.

Pullin' the Old Switcharoo

Since I live in a country where most people don't speak English and my level of Georgian is stuck at the taxi cab level, I consistently frequent stores where I have found at least a small level of success. This is especially true when I am not in the mood for a game of charades (you should have seen the hand motions when I tried to buy condoms!).  

The problem is...many stores are here today, gone tomorrow. One day you go into a store and have a wonderful experience, purchasing everything you need with ease. Two days later you go back to the same store because you knew you should have bought the dandruff shampoo when you were there two days ago, but you didn't feel like lugging it home. You round the corner and low and behold- the store is boarded up and empty. Sometimes the signs are torn down, but many times they stay up for awhile.

Here in Georgia, bank loans are hard to come by. If you are able to get a loan, it is at a very high interest rate (not sure exactly what it is for businesses, but for homes it is about 18%). So many people save their money, borrow what they can, and open their dream shop. They stay open as long as they can with the savings they have. There is no wiggle room. No one is floating them for a few months. They can't afford to lose money and can't afford to borrow from a bank, so they close if they are not breaking even or making a profit.

This is used to be our favorite shawarma place.
Now it sells hot dogs and other meats.

Now the good news in all of this is that, if you're lucky, a pretty decent pizza joint might open directly across the street from your house. Hopefully it will be here at least another month.

Opposition on the Move in Georgia

There has been a lot going on this past week....and possibly more to come.  Check it out here.

**OK, got in a bit of trouble for this post. I guess I should have started off by saying we are safe! We have not seen much of anything with the exception of being rerouted one night on the way to dinner because the road by the Parliament was closed. Other than that, all is good. I just find the situation very interesting and wanted to share. Sorry if I scared anyone!

Tie a Yellow Ribbon...

If you hike along a path or drive out of the city, you are likely to come across a tree that looks like this:

At first, I didn't know what to make of this tree. Although littering is a huge problem in Georgia, I couldn't believe that people would take the time to throw the trash into the tree. As I was spouting off one day about how much nicer Tbilisi would be if people just cared enough to throw out their garbage,  I was informed that this tree wasn't actually a fancy rubbish bin (as they like to call it), but instead a tree that grants wishes.   

Legend has it that if you make a wish while tying a small piece of cloth onto a branch of a Wishing Tree, your wish will come true. Although no one knows how a specific tree actually becomes a Wishing Tree, those that are covered in fabric have been thought to have granted wishes. These lucky people then spread the word and folks come from all over to tie a cloth on this now famous tree.

The appropriate protocol is to tie a piece of cloth onto a branch while making a wish. However, many times you will see whole shirts, plastic bags, or other odd assortments of "stuff" tied to the tree. People are resourceful...they use what they have, so they don't get left out of fulfilling their dreams.

I will not, however, break protocol and leave my wish making to chance. So to ensure that I am properly prepared when I come across a Wishing Tree, I have cut up a few pairs of Emet's underwear and tucked them safely in my backpack. Hope he doesn't mind.

Kissing Jessica Stein

Upon greeting someone in America, you are either a hugger or a cheek kisser (unless you really know them). Possibly, at times, a simple hello will do. However, when you first meet someone, a hand shake is appropriate. Many times, it depends on the background of who you are greeting. On my dad's side of the family we are all cheek kissers, my friends from high school are huggers, and many of my friends from Northern Virginia are more comfortable with the simple hello--no contact needed.

I have learned the rules. I know who to kiss, when to hug, and when to keep my distance. Well, as with most things that were turned upside by moving to Georgia, all of these rules were thrown out the window. 

Put on your ChapStick ladies and gentlemen for the rules of greeting people in Georgia are different.

 1.  In social settings, you kiss everyone hello and goodbye--even if you are meeting them for the first time.

2.  Women kiss both women and men.

3.  Men also kiss both women and men.

The tricky part for me wasn't the kissing because I am all about kissing. Instead, it was the technique that messed me up. Really, it boiled down to knowing which cheek to aim for. In America, I always go left. My goal is to brush the right cheek of my target. That is what I have always done and what I think others do too. It is a general understanding that is followed by all so as not to cause any broken noses or face dancing while trying to say hello. But in Georgia, everyone goes to the right. The person's left cheek is what you are aiming for.

When I first moved here, I could not remember to go right. I created many awkward moments with virtual strangers as they tried to understand why we were awkwardly moving our heads back and forth like two people meeting in a narrow hallway trying to get around each other.

My all time low was in a bar, meeting a colleague of Emet's for the first time. As our faces approached each other, I once again forgot to go right while she confidently did the Georgian-appropriate move and aimed for my left cheek. Instead of engaging in my familiar face dancing routines of the past, I panicked and we ended up locking lips.  

Yup, that's right. I kissed Emet's colleague, directly on the mouth while in a bar.

As an educator, I know everyone learns better by doing and sometimes complete and utter failure can help raise one’s skill level. You can believe that since that night I always go right. I don't need a repeat of that incident and all the embarrassing hoopla to remind me which cheek to aim for. I always go right.

Now, when I return to America, let's hope I can return to my left going ways. Otherwise, I am bound to end up kissing another person on the lips. This time they might not be as understanding as Emet’s colleague was of a culturally unadjusted American… especially in my own country.  

Treading with Trepidation

There are very few things of which I am afraid (let's see how well you know me). Although I am not as petrified of dogs as I am of m-i-c-e or  r-a-t-s, hanging around strange dogs will never be how I chose to spend my free time. In fact, I may actually walk in the opposite direction of any said dogs. I have owned a few dogs in my time and this is where my fear stems from. I could stretch out on the couch and tell you all about the struggles of my past dog ownerships, but I won't. Because, let's be real, that won't assuage my fear.

So I bring all this up because in Georgia it is a bit of problem to be afraid of dogs. They sit on every corner, walk the streets at all hours, gather in packs at times, and just plain petrify me! For the most part, they are used to living alongside people and therefore leave us, for the most part, alone. But really, it only takes one time for a hound to chomp down on my leg for me to be convinced that I will never get over my fear of dogs.  

I admit this malnourished pup does not look intimidating. But don't be fooled. What if you were in between it and some food?

  

So, I will continue, upon everyone's suggestion, to quietly hide a rock in my pocket (but really, would I ever use it?  Wouldn't I just piss the dog off more if I hit it with a rock?). I will also continue to cross the street every time I see a stray dog, making sure to avoid all eye contact, exuding a no fear vibe (they can sense fear, you know?) and trying to convince myself that no one else can hear the deafening pounding that is my heart. 

I didn't even touch on the fact that with an abundance of stray dogs comes....you guessed it, poop! Piles of poop sit on the sidewalk waiting for someone's shoe to squish into it.  Gross.  

Armenian Genocide

Over the years, I have been fortunate to be able to travel to some amazing places. Some of them I appreciated for their sheer beauty (New Zealand), while others were much more emotionally charged (Auschwitz).  My trip to Armenia combined a little of both.

While in Armenia we were invited to participate in day of remembrance for the lives lost in the Armenian Genocide. Every year on April 24th, people from all over the country of Armenia gather at the Genocide Memorial to place flowers, pay their respects for lost lives, and make sure no one ever forgets this horrific event.

I am utterly ashamed to say that I knew nothing about the Armenian Genocide until we were on our way to the memorial. In case anyone is as ignorant as I was, here is the very basic information that I learned from my Armenian friends: During and just after WWI (beginning in 1915), the Ottoman Empire systematically killed at least one to one and half million Armenians. It is thought to be one of the first major genocides and the second most studied genocide, after the Holocaust. However, to this day, the Republic of Turkey (formerly the Ottoman Empire), denies that it was a genocide. They claim that the deportations of the Armenian people was necessary since they had become allies of the Russian army.

Needless to say, the tragedy remains.

We were fortunate enough to be invited to walk with our Armenian friends on this day. As we walked, our friend told the story of the genocide and how his grandmother walked for 500 km to safety. The number of men, women, and children walking the path created a powerful yet somber feeling. It took about one hour to walk to the memorial. People carried signs, flowers, and family crests. The emotion in the air was heavy and the walk was long.

As were were approaching the memorial, there were many trees that lined the path. Next to each tree was a plaque naming the country or leader who planted it in remembrance.

This tall structure represents the national rebirth of Armenia. The separation down its length symbolizes the past split between eastern and western Armenia.

This is the actual memorial. It sits upon a hill overlooking the city of Yerevan. These twelve columns which are arranged in a circle represent the twelve lost Armenian provinces. When you walk inside this memorial, an eternal flame is surrounded by mountains of flowers.

I cried from the moment I rounded the corner and saw the monument. There is no way that a blog post can do this experience justice. Watching families supporting one another, ensuring grandparents and small children alike were able to place a flower near the eternal flame, will always be etched in my heart.