Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Woodsy walkabout

I hope that by the time this blog post pops up, I will be safely at home with my husband and dogs. Still, I couldn't resist showcasing one of my final walkabouts, this time on the way home from visiting my parents' friend Nani. I had to walk off all the food she and her sister stuffed me with, and along the way I happened upon a peaceful, piney park I never realized was just a few blocks from my house.

Immediately I started making a mental list of places I want to visit or revisit next time I am in Georgia. Even though it can be incredibly frustrating at times, this is a country that offers treasures around every corner and rewards for those who seek them out. Georgia draws you in and makes you want to return.

Until next time...

Monday, August 18, 2014

Farewell tour

 At this point, you'd think I'd have learned that when Larissa says we're stopping by to see someone for cake, what that really means is that we're bringing the cake and the people we are going to see will try to feed us so much additional food that we will be completely beached for the rest of the afternoon. (Don't even get me started about all the toasting...)
 Apparently I am a slow learner.

Anyway Larissa took me to say goodbye to her lovely parents and I got to sample Dodo's version of Georgia's answer to nshima or polenta, a thick corn porridge. In this case, it's served with fresh cheese marinated in minty sour cream, which may sound revolting (as it did to me at first) but is divine. Addictively divine, as in you will be immobilized on the sofa after eating an insane amount of it.
Watching Dodo stir her pot of corn totally gave me Zambia flashbacks to Ba Estheri muscling a pot of nshima into submission. Main difference: Georgians use forks, not fingers.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Culinary cross-cultures

 As I wrap up my time here, of course I am keeping up with my hobby of bridging cultures through food. I can't believe I never knew about these pastries (pictured above), which I've already forgotten the name of. Basically it's a giant circle of dumpling dough, folded around cheese and fried. Holy smokes.
Some people claim Georgians are unwilling to try new food.
I am lucky because my host family likes everything.
Alas, there is no real American cuisine besides hamburgers, and I am a vegetarian, so it's more challenging for the exchange to travel in the other direction. Instead, I introduced Larissa and Tamta to Indian food, which as you can see was a smashing success.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Scenes from the subway

Since learning how to navigate the bus system, which in most cases is quicker and and easier, I have neglected my previous love, the subway. I'm glad I went back from another go, if only to have one last look at its quirky charms.
He seemed so peaceful, drunkenly napping the day away...at 3pm.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Village walkabout

As usual, I took a few walkabouts to get to know the place. Close to Choga, apparently. I didn't walk quite that far. We were in Chorutsku. Or something. Pretty close to Abkhazia, for those of you keeping score at home.
 Old Soviet murals are everywhere, always a little crumbly.
 Yuri's driveway passes over a canal full of what I assume to be sewer water, though I hope not, since I also saw a bunch of boys swimming in it.
Of course, a little trash never hurt anybody, right?

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Home dentistry

Apparently Yuri is reluctant to leave his cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, etc, to travel to Tbilisi for dental work. Luckily for him, both of his sons are dentists willing to make in-depth house calls. While we were in the village, Vaho made plaster casts to send back to his brother for tooth construction.

Puppies!

What is there to say? Yuri's dog Chorna (which apparently means "black" in Russian) had puppies. Endless entertainment for the humans. Well, the female humans. The guys seemed immune to all the cuteness.
 Can't stand the cute.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Village life

 Spending a few days in the village gave me a tiny bit of regret that my time in Georgia has been so urban. I am a city person, for sure, but there is something I love about chickens in the kitchen.
 The pace of life in Tbilisi is not exactly blazing, but the village is positively tranquil. I spent a crazy amount of time just sitting on the patio, watching the chickens and puppies and snacking on Yuri's offerings of fresh grapes, figs, hazelnuts...
 And although life in Georgia is relatively modern, village life is decidedly more rustic. The house has electricity and running water in the sink, but unfortunately also has an outhouse. I will spare you the gory details except to say that while I admire Yuri's capabilities with wiring, there are certain places where good lighting is not such a great idea.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Monday at the beach with the fam

 Monday we got up bright and early and drove to the Black Sea, where two of us bobbed happily in the briny water while the other two hid under an umbrella. Everybody, however, ate boiled field corn purchased from an old lady. (And later, of course, khatchapuri. Always.)
 Vaho and I also braved the inflatable slide, though he only rode the little one, while I somehow mustered the courage to go down the 3-story side right into the sea. It was awesome. And terrifying.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Dinosaur canyon

 During our time in the village, Vaho & Larissa wanted to make sure I saw the coolest things in the Samagrelo region, so Sunday the guys and I visited the dinosaur canyon on the river Abasha while Larissa stayed behind to cook for Vaho's dad and clean up his house. (We're still in Georgia, after all.)
This place isn't exactly a top tourist destination, at least among foreigners, though it was packed with Georgians. There were no signs and it wasn't in my guidebook. Vaho had to ask people for directions until we just veered down a gravel road and there it was. Later I asked a guy at the tourist office to show it to me on a map but he couldn't find it.
We paid 15 lari (about $8) to rent an inflatable raft and hire a guide to paddle us down the canyon and back, with several portages/opportunities to slip on rocks. I never saw the dinosaur footprints that are allegedly here but to be honest the canyon itself was so beautiful I forgot to look.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Road trip!

Vaho is a serious churchella conisseur.
Road trips in America generally involve fast-food restaurants and rest areas. And while Tbilisi is looking more like an American strip mall, once you hit the countryside, you're in another world.

With my host family anyway, every road trip includes stopping for churchella, which Georgians call their version of Snickers. Admittedly, it's not appetizing to look at. It kinda resembles a turd on a string, but it's actually a pretty delicious snack made from walnuts or other nuts strung up and dipped in thick, sweet grape juice, then dried to a waxy texture.  
 For lunch, we stopped in a little woodsy area, where we ate the same stuff we always eat: khatchapuri (cheese bread), salad (with stealth japalenos!) and lemonade, which is the Georgian term for any fizzy fruit drink. I've never actually seen lemon-flavored lemonade, ironically. In this case, we got pear and tarragon, which is bright green and tastes a bit like mouthwash. (Not my favorite.)
And forget outlet malls: Georgian roadside shopping means stopping along the highway to peruse stalls of baskets or hammocks or any other local specialty. Fun!

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Off the grid

I'm not sure who's more worried about the upcoming lack of internet, me or the teenager. Anyway, I'll be off the grid for a few days, as I'm heading to the family's ancestral village for the first time. Lots of pictures upon my return!

Friday, August 8, 2014

Ex-patico

I'm sure as a laundry detergent, Barf is very effective.
As a side dish with a lunchtime beer, it is even better.
I love hanging out with Georgians, especially my truly exceptional host family. Still, there is also something really great about the occasional afternoon with a fellow native English speaker. We can talk fast, vent a little, and confuse the heck out of the ladies at the market.

You can just see them shaking their heads: "I just don't get what's so funny about a box of laundry soap."

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Portrait of an "outdoor cat"

Ok, so I was encouraging him by letting him sleep on my lap while I surfed the internet. And yes, I am always trying to feed him little bits of cheese. And digging out the cardboard & wire toy thing that he loves to chase.

But honestly, I thought the cat was always hanging around inside, until this week, when I finally realized that he springs in through the open window pretty much the minute I come home. When I'm not around, he is promptly escorted outside.

But he's so cute.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Dining out

My favorite Tbilisi dinner: a Greek salad at the French cafe on Rustaveli, followed by 30 tetri (15 cents) worth of popcorn from a lady on the street. Thirty tetri buys three little plastic cups full, though the price varies wildly. This popcorn lady is in the background with her old-fashioned popcorn machine, if you can see it.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Supra

I'm sure I would have found this funny if I could have understood it.
 To celebrate the start of camp, there was a supra. This is a formal event featuring ridiculous amounts of both food and alcohol, where numerous toasts are offered, in a structure passed down through generations, by the event's tamada, or toastmaster.
 I have mixed feelings about the supra tradition. On one hand, it's a nice way to build warm feelings by saying lots of nice things about each other, fueled by truly amazing amounts of wine. And the food is great. Even a vegetarian can find plenty to eat, at least until they bring out the barbeque skewers and pile them on top of the rest of the food.

Conversely, the formalized structure means that actual conversation is actively discouraged. Even if you spend 3 or 4 hours with someone (as at this particular supra), you don't actually get to know them at all.
 It is also the only social event I can think of, aside from the American fraternity party, where guests are heckled for not going "bottoms up" on their drinks when called upon. And we are not talking about dainty little wine glasses, but substantial tumblers full.
Unfortunately, as you may have noticed from the top picture, it is also an event where the men are seated at the table and the women do all of the preparation and cooking and serving. (In this case, the ladies dined on cold leftovers after the honored guests took off.)

It is also not the first time I have been considered enough of an honored guest to become, at least for an evening, seated at the table as an honorary man. This is probably in equal part due to my (uearned) American-ness and the fact that I would be useless in terms of preparing and serving a Georgian meal, so best to keep me far from the kitchen.

Perhaps it is no wonder that I left the event with a giant headache.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Diabetic camp

This week I got to visit a diabetic summer camp that was started and is run by ACTS International, an NGO from my hometown. Over the past 19 summers, more than 1,000 Georgian kids have learned how to manage their type-1 diabetes, which is no small task here, given the limitations in terms of medical supplies, knowledge and support.
 According to Trish Blair, the American physician who started the camp and works her buns off keeping it going, Georgian diabetic kids used to live only about 10 years. Now, she has counselors helping out who have attended camp their entire lives. Some former campers are married with kids of their own. Many have gone on to university, including medical school. Trish encourages them to study endocrinology, of course.
Counselors collect up their mobile phones and keep the kids busy with hikes, dance parties, arts & crafts, trivia contests, and regular blood checks and insulin injections. The kids also get individual medical counseling to learn how to regulate their diet and activity levels.
From all the giggling and hugging I heard & saw, and from the kids I talked to, it seems like the biggest benefit they perceive is great friendships. Ultimately, that's what summer camp is all about, right?

Monday evening walkabout

I peeked into the locked gates, thinking this was a castle. Instead: football fields. 
I spent a couple of days in Kvareli. Still practicing the art of the self-portrait.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Another roadside attraction

Georgian roadside rest areas are a little different from their American counterparts. For one thing, you generally have to pay anywhere from 10 to 30 tetri (5-15 cents) to use the toilet, even if it is, shall we say, rustic. Like, nothing but marks for where to put your feet and an odor that will burn the hairs right out of your nose.
 A more glorious smell, however, comes from the bread oven, where you can spend another 50 tetri to buy the most delicious and fresh loaf you will find anywhere.
As fast-food chains pop up all over Georgia, I fear for the future of these wonderful little spots where ladies slap dough onto the brick walls of coal-filled ovens. Sure, the bathrooms aren't as clean as McDonald's and you can't count on the reassuring sameness. It's not a generic Big Mac, but a culinary and cultural tradition that has been passed down for hundreds of years. 
All because we stopped by the side of the road for a drink and a bathroom.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Saturday evening walkabout

Pretty much my favorite thing to do in any city is set out on a big unplanned walk. Given a balmy summer evening, a charged up MP3 player full of tunes and podcasts, and an interesting neighborhood, I am in heaven. I headed in the general direction of my former work commute and enjoyed the tree-line boulevard.
I couldn't resist a detour through Vake Park, especially since the fountain actually has water right now. (Still getting the hang of the whole self-portrait thing. Me with a non-crazy face plus the scenery might still be too much to ask. Clearly my hair did not want to cooperate.)
Then dinner at a fancy little ice cream place at another park by the UN office. (Banana and almond/caramel: amazing.) Just as my feet started to complain, I managed to find a bus going in the general direction of home. An excellent evening.

Friday night visit

Larissa took me to see her friend Tamunia so I could buy some of her little felted thingies for gifts. Of course, the visit was A Visit, so it had to begin with trying to cram the guest full of enough snacks to put me into a coma.
 Tamunia lives with her family in one of Tbilisi's many sad-looking Soviet-era apartment blocks, way up on the 15th floor, accessible by a dark, clattering elevator that costs 10 tetri (but only to go up; down is free). Inside, you find (slightly cracked) 10-foot ceilings, a chandelier dripping with crystals hanging from what looks like bare wires, and dozens of paintings by artists who were friends of Tamunia's grandfather; he painted the scene below, the view out the apartment window, soon after moving in nearly 40 years ago.
Aside from some new hotels, a Ferris wheel up on the hill, and no more identical Soviet cars on the bridge, it looks remarkably the same.