8 years ago

Lights Out! Living with Inconsistent Electricity

by Rawan / Her

Are you afraid of the dark? This is a serious question you need to answer for yourself if you are considering joining the Peace Corps. The answer is simple: you will find yourself sitting in the dark. For instance, this very moment, I’m currently sitting in the dark at my office. Granted, some countries do not use electricity widely like Georgia. We have electricity in most places but are also not immune to power outages. Although they are not a daily occurrence, they happen from time to time.

Power is Out — Sitting at my desk with no electricity at work

Thankfully, I’m using my laptop at work today instead of my desktop. Therefore, I’m taking advantage of the battery juice that I have left. The power went out around noon today and I do expect it to come back within 30 minutes or so. Typically, the power outages are in 1-hour increments at best. I’m grateful that they do not derail my day, they simply postpone my activities. Unfortunately, the room I do sit in at the office gets dark. We have wooden shutters for the windows and we use them in the winter. I never asked why, but my assumption is for heat conservation.

I do have to admit that power is much more stable in the city than it is in the villages. During PST, each time it was rainy and/or windy, there was an overwhelming possibility that the power would go out. Believe me, Georgia has a lot of rain in all four seasons. My PST host family did not do much to prepare for such events. They simply lit up one candle and called it a day. A skinny, measly candle at that. I’m not talking about Yankee Candles here. They didn’t fuss or come up with contingencies.

Justin and I have heard in advance about these scenarios, so we prepped for it. We bought a solar panel light and two headlamps from Amazon. They came in handy nearly on a daily basis during training. When our host family discovered our big solar light, they were ecstatic. The solar light solved the problem of a dark dinner. We ate comfortably during those nights around the dining room table. Our headlamps came in handy every night when we walked to the outhouse or did homework.

One day a few weeks into training, the power went out around 6 or 7 p.m. Because it was April or May, it was already dark outside. Justin and I had our dinner and finished our homework. With no internet and no electricity, I was so bored. My entertainment solution: going to bed early. No joke, I literally went to bed before 8 p.m. that night because I had nothing else to do. I wasn’t even sleepy. Thankfully, I was able to sleep through the entire night and was extremely well rested the next morning.

Here is another anecdote, Justin and I come home and it was super windy with heavy rain. I had a feeling that the power was going out, so I pulled out the headlamps. Justin was even better. He looks at me and said, “The power will go out in 3…2…1.” Sure enough, the second he put his index finger down, the power went out like magic. He was able to hone his super power skills to the millisecond. If the power went out in California, we would fret and probably demand a partial refund from our power supplier. In reality, I don’t know what I would do because it never happened. But when it happens in Georgia, we remain calm because more than half the time, it is out of our control.

Headlamp — One of our wonderful headlamps!

Since I’ve come to site, the power only went out a couple of times at night. The lights flicker, but that is probably the most of it. My friends who live in villages are not as lucky as Justin and I. I believe, one volunteer did not have power for a couple of days during a heavy snow storm. It is possible that my site doesn’t have as many of these problems because the weather is milder in my neck of the woods. The other reason could be is because I live in a city with better infrastructure. I’m just grateful that I no longer have to go to the outhouse in the dark anymore.

8 years ago

Project Design Workshops

by Rawan / Her

Two days ago was a small win for me. Celebrate the small wins, they say. But what they don’t say, is sometimes how long you have to wait to get those glimmering moments. My Youth2Georgia counterpart got hired in September, about 2 months after I got to site. I took him to my Peace Corps’ Project Design and Management Workshop with me for a week shortly after that. It is now February and we are now finally working on our first major project together. Sure, we have had meetings, discussions, and mini-trainings, but we are now actually working towards something bigger. Ironically enough, our first project is….a Project Design Workshop.

Our Peace Corps training was in September and it was one business week long. Each IOD volunteer brought along one counterpart to the training in Sairme. I was lucky and I was able to bring both my World Vision counterpart and my Youth2Georgia counterpart. Typically Peace Corps hires translators for these events because a lot of counterparts speak limited English. My World Vision counterpart speaks English fluently, so she acted as a translator for my Youth2Georgia counterpart. She was also needed because my Y2G counterpart was so new to the organization and wouldn’t be able to provide much insight into the past or future projects.

At the training, we learned aspects of successful community projects, how to set proper goals and objectives, and how to write grants. Peace Corps equipped us with a lot of tools and resources to make us successful. They shared all the training materials with us via soft and hard copies as well. I couldn’t be any more grateful that they did that. I’m currently leveraging some of those materials for our own workshop. We are also leveraging other resources that Peace Corps provides. It is great to not create everything from scratch.

Instead of training that takes days, our training will only be a few hours long. Most Peace Corps Volunteers work with youth, and I’m not an exception. The training will be for high school students and it will most likely be their first introduction to project design. We are currently researching what to put in our 5-hour curriculum while making it fun and impactful. I want the students to walk away understanding the most basic concepts, such as what are project cycle; goals and objectives; and budget and evaluation. We are hoping that some of them will actually implement their project ideas.

So two days ago, I sat down with my counterpart for no joke 3.5 hours discussing the curriculum. What I like about being a Peace Corps Volunteer is that there are endless teaching opportunities (for me and them). As he was making various suggestions, it gave me an opportunity to exercise my coaching, mentoring, and/or consulting skills. It awarded him an opportunity to take advantage of my professional experience as well.

For example, he suggested that we input the SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats) Analysis in the curriculum. I asked him why he would want to teach a bunch of 14-15-year-olds that analysis. He highlighted that with every project, there are risks and the SWOT analysis explores risk. As correct as it may be, I suggested that we do not include SWOT analysis. I told him that when I learned it in college, it can be a complex theory and it is typically used for organizations and not for community-based projects. I also did not want to overwhelm the teenagers with too many theories. However, I did say we should explore how to include risks in the project design training framework.

Discussions with counterparts often include a lot of back-and-forth discussions. First, coming from two different cultures and educational backgrounds offer a diversity of thought. Second, since we neither speak the other’s language fluently, it creates a lot of room for miscommunication. Essentially, my counterpart explained his thoughts to me multiple times in broken English and I did the same with broken Georgian. Google Translate was also used heavily (thank god for the internet). Work does get done. Relationships are built. But, it can be slow and now I understand why patience is a virtue.

My small win this week is one of the reasons why Peace Corps’ service is not less than 2 years. I’ve been in-country for nearly a year and I’m finally working with my youth NGO counterpart on something big. It takes a while to gain trust and respect. It also takes a while to find your place in the organization. Most importantly, it takes a while to understand the community in which you serve. Therefore, imagine the mistakes I would have made if I tried to rush things. I would have no idea that the teenagers wouldn’t understand SWOT. I would have taken that suggestion and implemented it. Most likely, we would be met with blank and confused faces. However, because I’ve done a few trainings by now, I know that I should start with the over-arching concepts and focus on that instead.

I love it when I can avoid mini disasters! Phew!

Either way, the trainings take place next month. Wish us luck that everything will go smoothly. In the meantime, I am going to celebrate the fact that my counterpart and I have our first long and productive conversation. I’m going to hope that our hard work will pay off next month in our first major collaborative project.

8 years ago

Representing America as a Person of Color

by Rawan / Her

Never in my life I would have considered myself a Person of Color. I consider myself a minority all the time, but I never a Person of Color until Peace Corps. In fact, I thought I was going to blend-in easily here in Georgia. But, I was so wrong. I’m simply olive-skinned with brown hair and brown eyes. I won’t go into detail about my ethnic origins, but I am a minority. Apparently, I’m a minority that Georgians have no idea how to deal with. I’ve been learning that there isn’t a clear consensus among the Peace Corps volunteer community either. The non-white volunteers (that I’ve talked with) consider me a Person of Color; however, the white volunteers are shocked when I tell them my stories. It might be safe to say that I’m in that awkward middle…no man’s land. So let me tell you some of my stories from this week alone:

I was leaving Tbilisi back to my site yesterday. About two minutes into the cab ride from my hostel to the train station, the cab driver asks in Georgian, “where are you from?”

“I am American,” I answered, but I knew that the conversation was probably not going to stop there.

He pauses for a moment dissatisfied,”No, where are you from?”

“America. I am American.”

“So Mexico?”

“No.”

“Colombia?”

“No.”

“Ecuador?”

“No.”

And the game continues to solicit every other country in Latin America.

“But you do not look American.”

And yup, he just went there.

Throughout this entire conversation, I was calm because it wasn’t the first time. I remember telling one of my friends about this type of interaction months ago and she was surprised. Later, we were together around town and a Georgian asked us where we were from since we were speaking English. My friend responds and says, “America.” He then looks at me and says, “and you?” “We are both American.” He peppers me with further questions- but with me only. He took my friend at face value when she said American, but I was not granted that same privilege. Immediately after, we laughed since I had literally just told her that this happens all the time.

Other things include like taking pictures and/or videos. For example, a few days ago I was on the metro with a few other of my PCV friends. A lot of times, Georgians stare at us or become curious because we are foreigners. American tourists are not widely popular here in Georgia (in fact, I’ve yet to meet one). So when one of the Georgian men on the metro started staring at me, I thought it was because I was a foreigner. However, it became clear that it was because I was a Person of Color. I was with a few other PCVs, all of whom were white. None of them were stared at. Also, I was the only one who had their picture and video taken! We were all speaking English together, but I was the only one who was singled out.

These moments are what Volunteers of Color call, “Learning Opportunities.” This is where we get to be a representative of America in a raw and honest way. We get to show people that America is diverse. Simply being present shows Georgians that being American can mean foreign-born or natural-born, white or otherwise, or anything else. Another friend was joking that even if I accomplish nothing else, at least I have accomplished this. I am a walking lesson to show that anyone can “look” American.

On the other side of the coin, there are Georgians who have become my strongest advocates. For example, my host mother is the perfect example. Each time we have guests over and they only question my “American-ness,” but not my husband’s, my host mom is the first line of defense. I no longer even have to say a word to defend/explain myself. She will say that America has a lot of immigrants and dual nationalities. She will also use her daughter as an example. He eldest daughter immigrated to America years ago and therefore is equally Georgian and American. Therefore, if her daughter can be American, then so can I. I’m so blessed and lucky to have her as a host mother.

My counterpart is also incredibly proud of my ethnic diversity. She has actually studied a bit about it during her college days. Given the chance, Georgians ask very thoughtful questions about our diverse landscape. I’ve had great discussions at work about the U.S Consitution and about checks and balances. We have talked about how one of the things that America is wonderful is how different nationalities and backgrounds have come together to build a beautiful and proud nation.

But nothing is harder than answering questions about America’s political climate, especially as a minority. At lunch today, my coworkers asked me about Trump’s new immigration ban. But more specifically, they asked how it would affect me and my family. I was literally asked, “Do you think you are still allowed to be a citizen after all this?” “Is your family going to be deported if they know where you were born?” These are questions I thought I would never have to answer during my service. Actually, these are questions I never thought I would think about ever. Personal feelings aside, questions like this are difficult because we are not ordinary private American citizens. We are representatives of the American government; therefore, our actions and words carry a lot of weight. I simply responded with a quick history of the US Consitution and what a beautiful document it is. I talked about checks-and-balances that America’s president does not hold all the power. It was my long-winded way of saying that I don’t think their concerns would be a reality.

But this is the world that I live in. American politics are broadcasted on international news channels. People around the world read and hear about what is happening in the United States all the time. Our country truly does impact the rest of the world. So at least while I’m doing my best answering questions in a diplomatic way, my fellow Peace Corps volunteers regardless of ethnic origin, race, or religion are supportive of me through this journey.

8 years ago

Writing Success Stories

by Rawan / Her

As I was sitting at my desk two weeks ago at work, my boss comes up to me to talk to me about Youth2Georgia (Y2G). Our organization supports and funds a youth-led NGO called Youth2Georgia. By the end of the month, my boss wants each youth worker to write a success story about their work in the community. It is a great idea because writing success stories would provide us with a qualitative data bank that we could show our donors. A lot of organizations worldwide have the practice to write success story to document the work they do. Even Peace Corps has an entire page on its website dedicated to stories, some of which are success stories.

My boss sent me one of the success stories that the youth workers wrote him in December. The stories need to be in English so that our donors could understand them. For this particular success story, the English, style, and format were all over the place. I typically speak Georgian to the youth workers, so I was confused that they were able to write a success story in English. After reading the success story, I came to the assumption of how they wrote it in English. The whole thing looked like it was plugged into Google translate because the verb tenses and sentence structure were off. I am fluent in two languages and Georgian is the fifth language I’ve studied. From experience, no two languages are alike enough to translate something word for word. For one thing, sentences are structured differently among languages.

Example of English to Georgian Translation

Also, the success story’s first paragraph didn’t even have anything to do with the topic. My boss agreed that the translation and format were off. I volunteered and told him that I could do a success story template or form. It would serve an instructional page on how to properly write a success story. He asked, “Would you be willing to explain it to them?” “Yes, I’m sure I could spend 15 minutes going over the main points.” He liked that idea and that was the end of our conversation. A few hours later, he comes up and tells me that he set up a meeting for 4 p.m. that following Monday. Then, I see an e-mail that I was allotted about 45 minutes to cover the topic. So based on that e-mail, my 15 minutes turned into 3 times as long. With that, I figured I should get cracking on creating a PowerPoint presentation to go along with it and prepare for the following Monday.

Last week was the day of my Success Story training presentation. Now, if I was sitting in my corporate cubicle back in my old job, I would have gone to the conference room 10 minutes early and set-up. The projector would be turned on and the presentation would be ready to go. People would trickle in a few minutes early with notebooks in hand. In Georgia, it is a different story. First, my counterpart who was supposed to be my translator disappeared around 2:30 p.m. and I haven’t seen her since. I had e-mailed my work to her for review and I didn’t hear back to see if it was any good or not. At 4:00 p.m., I haven’t seen or heard from anybody to see if the meeting was still happening. But I’ve been in Georgia long enough, I knew that things just must be running late. I was writing e-mails calmly because if was going to happen, it would eventually.

Sure enough, the Youth2Georgia manager comes up to me at nearly 4:30 p.m. and tells me that they are ready for me. I smiled, grabbed my phone, and followed him downstairs. Flashback to America, people would assume that the meeting was canceled due tp the delay. Either way, I go downstairs and we set up the projector for my PowerPoint. My counterpart did a great job translating and co-facilitating. She added a lot of examples from her experience that fit my presentation’s narrative. Thankfully, I was able to understand her translations and her examples. I understood enough Georgian that I was to incorporate her examples in my later slides as I was presenting. And that is another thing, when someone in America translates, they translate the exact thing the presenter says. Here, they might go off and add their own flavor like my counterpart did. It could be a good thing or a bad thing. Yesterday, it was very much a good thing because she knows the youth workers better than I do and she adds value in ways I can’t.

In regards to the presentation, I taught the youth workers that they should think of success stories in 3 parts: the situation/issue, the response, the benefits/results. In order to remember that, I basically told them that these parts are essentially the before, during, and after. Each part deserved its own paragraph and should include details and data in a concise and direct way. Breaking it down and providing a formula was so helpful. Sitting in that room reminded me of some of my teachers in high school and college. I did not make any assumptions to what kind of education they had or have, but it simply reminded me of mine. I thought to myself that the only way I was able to whip up something quick was because I was taught how to think critically and logically.

The youth asked great questions during the presentation. One of them hit home, “how can you measure success so we can write about it in the success story?” I responded, “If you are asking how do we measure impact, you can’t. You measure success through tangible data.” I reminded them that just because you can’t measure impact, there are other ways to measure success. It is important to account for attendance and skills taught. For example, you can do a training on hand sanitization. You can teach someone how to wash their hands and how to prevent spreading germs. You can test them to see if they do it properly. However, you can’t actually know if they will always wash their hands properly or at all after that class is longer over. I concluded with, “I’m here for two years and I may never know if I was a successful Peace Corps Volunteer.” And that is the thing, an impact is difficult to measure and it might take years for it to surface. But that is the line of work for most (if not all) non-profit workers. We realize that the true impact is hard to measure and instant gratification might not always be the case. At the end of the day, it comes down to faith. I have to have faith that the life I’m dedicating is worth it at the end, even with no proof.

8 years ago

Mini Reverse Culture Shock in England

by Rawan / Her

We wanted to ring in 2017 in England with our friends and then head out for an epic adventure in Morocco. As mentioned in the About Us page, Justin and I studied abroad in Amsterdam together in 2009. We became very close to a couple of cool dudes from England. We haven’t seen either of them in a few years and New Years was the perfect way to remedy that. An unintended perk of going to England is experiencing the developed world for 3 days.

When Chris picked us up from Stansted Airport at 1:00 a.m., Justin told him, “I have a feeling you will hear a lot about Georgia the next 3 days.” Georgia was the immediate topic of conversation the second we got in the car. Until that moment, the only time I would speak English to a native speaker in person was another PCV. So some of the conversations with had with Chris just seemed so surreal. To paraphrase some of our conversations:

Conversation 1 [driving home from the airport]

Chris: So sorry for the driving, I can’t really see from the fog [Chris was driving perfectly despite not seeing more than 5 feet ahead]

Me: This is the first time I’m in a car and I’m not scared for my life in 9 months

Chris: …okay…

Justin: Marshutka drivers in Georgia speed like crazy and they like to pass other drivers even on a curvy road on a cliff

Me: Yeah, this is really relaxing

Meanwhile, Chris not happy about driving in the fog

Conversation 2 [first thing in the morning the next day]

Chris and Victoria: What would you guys like to do while you are here? Any activities you want to do in England?

Me: Shower

Chris and Victoria: haha, but seriously

Me: Very serious. I’ve been looking forward to showering the most. Everything else comes second.

Chris and Victoria: (Realizing I’m not joking) Anything else?

Justin: I need to fix my iPhone. Can we go to the Apple Store?

Chris and Victoria realized we may be the easiest people to please

Brighton Pier — We walked around the pier in Brighton before heading to the Apple store to fix Justin’s phone

Conversation 3 [15 minutes later]

Me: Anything I need to be aware of for the shower? Is there anything I need to plug in for the water to run?

Chris and Victoria [confused]

Me: Oops! I forgot water runs all the time! In Georgia, I got to plug-in something for the pump to work…(I proceed to explain our complicated water system)

Chris and Victoria: That sounds complicated

Me: Yeah, That’s why daily showers isn’t a thing. I swear, you really don’t smell though.

Conversation 4 (at small, local grocery store)

Rawan: OMFG! THEY HAVE AVOCADOS?! WHO ELSE WANTS AVOCADOS? [I’m touching avocados for the first time in 9 months in a debatably abnormal way]

Everybody: I’m okay, thanks.

Rawan: No, seriously. My life is complete.

Everybody: How are you going to eat them?

Me: I don’t care, I’ll even eat it on plain toast.

I eat it on plain toast later and I realized I put avocados on a pedestal. I repeat, do not eat it plain on toast.

Avocados Galore! — I bought two avocados. I ate the first one as toast and the second one I lugged around with me to Morocco. Ended up eating it at the Sahara Dessert.

Conversation 5

Tim: So I calculated what 15 pounds are in Georgian Lari.

Me: Yeah, what is it?

Tim: It is nearly 50 Lari

Me: FIFTY LARI! That is how much I spend on food for two weeks at the bazaar!

Tim: Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered for the casino tickets [casino tickets were 15 pounds per person]

Me: That is so generous of you. Are you sure?

Tim: You got no money

Me: [attempting to whip back a come-back with no avail]

After dozens of conversations that sounded like this, our friends weren’t entirely convinced of the wonderful lives we were leading. But Justin and I joked that despite the lack of life conveniences’, we still love our lives in the Peace Corps. I told them that the best part is the relationships I’ve developed in the community. Talking about my Georgian friends, I couldn’t help but feel proud on how much I’ve integrated into the community.

Conversation 6

Me: Georgians are one of the nicest people and they seriously watch out for us

Everybody nods

Me: For example, two days ago, I got my haircut. I was so nervous getting it done because I can’t explain in Georgian very well. So my Georgian tutor spent the whole day finding me an appointment. Then, she came with me to the appointment and had her husband drop us off. She stayed with me the entire time even though she wasn’t getting anything done. I mean, seriously, who else would do that? No one in America would hand-hold me like that.

Victoria: That’s true. I can’t imagine any of my coworkers doing anything like that.

Georgians can be so generous with time and simple gifts. Then I’m pretty sure Justin told them about each time he rides the Marshutka with someone he knows, he fare is paid for. I also told them that my boss has helped me out more times that I can count. When I had trouble with my water at my apartment, my boss was the one who translated and mediated the issue with my landlord. I mean, I wouldn’t dream of dragging my American boss into my personal mess back home.

So when you hear that quote, that “money can’t buy happiness,” whoever said that is 100% correct. However, conveniences can help elevate that happiness when you are stressed. I’m not doubting that part. Basically, I get super elated when I take a hot shower. I get ecstatic when I see clean carpeted floors at a hotel. Hearing English on TV are angels singing through the clouds. But it is important to note, I’m not depressed when I don’t have those things. Because what fuels my happiness (and mental stability) are different things. It makes my day when my counterparts laugh with me as I attempt to speak their language. It makes feel honored when the kids at the daycare center I help out at run up to me when they see me. In life, it is really the little things that count. It is truly the people that matter the most.

As we were ending our vacation in Morocco, Justin and I noticed that were homesick. And I mean homesick for Georgia. I feel like we have built a life in Georgia and it started feeling like home. It doesn’t hurt that when we landed back in Georgia someone recognized me. As we were paying for our bus tickets from the airport to the city center, the cashier said, “I remember you. We had a training together.” She said it with such confidence that I totally believed her. Now, what training is she talking about? I have no clue. Do I even remember this woman? No, but maybe she does look familiar? Either way, it is a good sign of community integration.

Home Sweet Home — The small wine bottle we got for free upon entering Georgia at the airport 🙂

8 years ago

Cooking in Peace Corps Georgia

by Rawan / Her

Living with a host family sometimes felt like I was grounded from using the kitchen. I love cooking, but being a permanent guest of sorts meant that your food was served to you. It meant that whether or not I was in the mood to eat Georgian Gupta soup yet again, I had no choice. My host mom did let me use the kitchen, but the only ingredients I was able to whip together was scrambled eggs, oatmeal, or buckwheat. I had no idea what to do with the other things in the fridge. Since I couldn’t really control my diet, I really missed cooking. Hence- the feeling of being grounded. When Justin and I found our own place, I was really excited of cooking again. I was dreaming up recipes in my head and thinking of all the ways I was going to make that kitchen my b**** !

Georgian Baazar — The vegetable section of the baazar close to our apartment. Notice how the cabbage is repeated in the very next stand.

But those dreamy recipes fluttered away like pretty butterflies when I realized two reasons. First, the selection at the baazar is much more limited than what I used to buy at Safeway/Vons in California. To set the scene, each stand is more or less a repeat of the one next to it. In a nutshell, the majority of the vegetables available are: potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, parsley, dill, cauliflower, eggplant, bell pepper, onion, garlic, cabbage, and carrots.

You can buy tons of Georgian cheese, but you be deluding yourself if you think you can find Parmesan, Cheddar, or Swiss cheese at the baazar. I have heard rumors that Parmesan cheese does exist, but I have not been able to find any at my site. The diversity of beans are limited and so are the nuts. I haven’t seen white beans or cashews since I’ve come to Georgia.

Georgian Oven — The oven in my kitchen. Please note that the lower-left burner is well…burnt. It is not dirty. Pretty sure this oven is older than me.

Now, the second reason why the other half of my dreams vanished is because of the oven. I don’t know what my landlord meant when he said “it works.” If he meant does it do a good job of just sitting there? Then yes, it does it a good job. If he meant does it actually turn on and bake food? Then no, it does a horrible job on that one.

Like many ovens and stove tops, you have to use a lighter or a match to get them working when the gas turns on. The automatic beauties back home are for Georgia in 2050. So even though the gas is on in the oven, the flame won’t stay. The flame is too scared of the dark so it just flutters away like my baking dreams. It also has a weird number system anyway. Instead of “real temperatures,” the knob is labeled from 2 to 10. According to my friends, number 3 is the magic number. If I ever get it working, I’ll let you know.

Oven Knob — This has to be the oddest oven knob I’ve ever seen. What do these numbers even mean?

Until then, I have been experimenting. I am currently attending the Cordon Bleu of Georgia. This chapter of the Cordon Bleu’s curriculum is simple: go to the baazar, buy things, and go wild. How do you get graded? Your husband or your own taste buds will make a happy face or a disgusted face. Since I only have a stove top, limited ingredients, and being lactose intolerant, it has been difficult coming up with different recipes. So I’m proud of myself for being able to come up with my own recipes without the help of a cookbook, measuring cups or spoons. So far, I am able to make from scratch: cauliflower-onion soup, marinara bolognese pasta, cauliflower and chickpeas over millet, and eggplant stir-fry. Today, I made-up the eggplant stir-fry and it is a definite repeat. It was very healthy and quite delicious 🙂

Made up meals! — My very own eggplant stir-fry. Very lightly oiled and tons of vegetables! Yum!

I won’t lie, I will still miss the idea of having an oven. Since it is decades old, it probably won’t get fixed. In the meantime, if you have any recipe ideas with the above mentioned ingredients, drop me a note!

8 years ago

Homesick during the Holidays

by Rawan / Her

The week before Christmas, homesickness came and told me, “don’t be a stranger, come knock on my door.” Homesickness is like M&Ms in a way, you just can’t have one thought or one moment of sadness. You find your hand reaching in for more despite your better judgement. Silver lining is, I’m not the only Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) in Georgia who feels this way. We were told in Pre-Service Training (PST) that a “the low phase of service” will be around November-December. Essentially, we were told to expect to be homesick between Thanksgiving and the New Year.

Thanksgiving Dinner — The delicious food spread at our Peace Corps Thanksgiving dinner

Good thing though, I was doing really good for the Thanksgiving period. I was surprisingly not homesick. Maybe it is because in college, I worked every Thanksgiving. I used for work for the Mouse, aka Disneyland. Since the holidays get really busy at the park, pretty much every staff member worked some sort of shift. But the main reason is probably because our Peace Corps staff in Georgia did a beautiful job in giving us a Thanksgiving dinner (albeit, the week prior). We had an All Volunteer Conference (All-Vol) in which all G15, G16s, and Response volunteers attended a two day conference in Tbilisi, Georgia. Some of the PCVs volunteered to cook us an all-American, perfect Thanksgiving. There was turkey, apple pie, mashed potatoes, gravy, and even cranberry sauce.

Thanksgiving Dinner in Peace Corps — The dinning hall in the hotel where we had our Thanksgiving dinner

During dinner, one of my friends in the English Education sector, Kelley, decided it would be fun to do the Mannequin Challenge. It was such a fun activity that everybody could participate as a group. Check out the video here.

So in essence, I think it is because I had Thanksgiving a week early, it really did help alleviate any forthcoming homesickness. On the actual day of Thanksgiving, I went to work like it was a normal day. Unfortunately, Peace Corps Volunteers do get any American holidays off from work (unless we use our personal time off). However, the Peace Corps staff at our national office gets both Georgian and American holidays off (yes, the world is unfair, I know).

After work, Justin and I went out to a local restaurant with our local American friends. There is a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV) who lives in town and a Fulbright ETA couple as well.

Thanksgiving Dinner Group — Thanksgiving dinner with our friends at a local restaurant

I also came up with a possibly mean system to also offset any homesickness: don’t talk to the family. When my dad called me to wish me Happy Thanksgiving and reminiscence about our previous Thanksgiving, I told him that I don’t want to talk. I simply picked up the phone quickly and told my dad, “Baba, I’m doing really good today. If I talk to you, I will get homesick. The last thing I want is get homesick. I’ll call you back in a few days.” He respected my wishes sadly and that was that.

But Christmas is a different story all together…

First, Georgians do not celebrate Christmas on December 25th like most of the world. Georgian Christmas actually takes place on January 7th of every year. Of course, there are vastly different traditions that take place in Georgia. For Christmas, I don’t like change: I like to stick with my prescribed traditions. Go shopping on Black Friday and decorate the family tree all together. Christmas songs are constantly played in the house. This year, none of that. This is the very first year I will not be spending Christmas with my family. This is the first year that I will not wake up on the 25th of December and see a Christmas tree. It just doesn’t feel like the holidays for me because all the preceding holiday traditions just have not taken place.

Kutaisi Christmas Tree — A Christmas Tree made of electric lights displayed in one of the circles near the center of town

However, it is like the world knew that I would need some Christmas spirit in my life. As I thinking about writing this post yesterday, one of my colleagues walks in the office with a Christmas tree. My boss starts playing Christmas music in the background and we all start decorating our own very Christmas tree. So even though I was no decorating my family’s tree in California, I still got to decorate a wonderful, plastic tree last night.

The Christmas Tree at our World Vision office

Then, as I was walking up the office stairs this morning, I see two Georgian men carrying a Fed-Ex box! There is no Fed-Ex in Georgia, so I quickly knew that very box must be my care package. My wonderful friends back home, who are more like family at this point, mailed me and my husband 36 pounds (yes, that heavy) worth of American goodness! I probably should have waited to open the box with my husband on Christmas, but too late!

Peace Corps Care Package — Opening up my care package the second it gets delivered!

And on Christmas Day, other PCVs and I will try to capture the spirit of the holidays. We are having dinner together and doing a White Elephant gift exchange. We will try to dress up and look fancy. So even though I’m not with my blood relatives on Christmas, I am with my new family in a way. That helps a lot in homesickness. We have found a home away from home within each other.

8 years ago

Showering: an Stressful and an unpleasant Experience

by Rawan / Her

Peace Corps experiences are filled with many extremes. There are so many moments where you just know you are making a positive difference. Then, there are moments where you just want to teleport back to America. Quite frankly, the happy moments are the ones that fuel many of us to keep going. We need to remember those high moments, because there are hardships coming right around the corner. Peace Corps is such a roller coaster ride with so many ups and downs. And they aren’t the Disneyland roller coasters where the stratification is not so extreme between the high and lows. I’m talking about Six Flags roller coasters here, baby.

Low moments of hardships come in all shapes and sizes. One stressor for many Peace Corps Volunteers in Georgia are showers. You read that correctly, showering/bathing can be an actual hardship. Long gone are the days where you can say, “I’ll be ready in 10 minutes, I’m just going to hop in the shower.” There is no such thing as “hopping” in the shower. For one, there is probably no shower place to hop to. Second, it is not a quick process in which the word “hopping” implies. This is one of the many reasons why we shower once, twice, or three times a week.

In my first few days at my apartment, I was looking forward to showering. I went to the gym for the first time in 8 months, so my hair was greasy and I was in the mood to feel nice and clean. But God had a different plan in mind. Scratch that, the universe, fate, the stars, and God himself all colluded together to make my cleanliness nearly impossible.

That’s right….we sometimes go a week without showering. Welcome to our new normal.

My bathroom is outside as I mentioned in my earlier post. One of the walls are shared with the house, but you still must step outside to enter the bathroom. There is a toilet, a 30-year-old washing machine, a sink, and a shower head. In Georgia, having a shower head without shower curtains is very typical. Consequently, everything can get wet.

Georgian Showers — The bathroom in our current apartment

Since winters are harsh in Georgia, my landlord gave us a tiny electric heater for the bathroom. Justin and I skillfully hold the shower hose and make sure it does not spray the electric heater. This new skill is non-negotiable; otherwise, we can electrocute ourselves and die. Also, getting dressed in the bathroom after the shower is also difficult. To avoid getting all my dry clothes wet while getting dressed, I’ve decided to buy a robe. I’ll go into the bathroom wearing only my bathrobe and carrying my towel. It much easier only hanging one item of clothing on the rack. It is also much easier to put on a robe than a pair of pants.

Georgian Heater — The small electric heater that we use in the bathroom

Furthermore, there are so many knobs and pipes to even get the thing going. I’ve yet to master all the knobs and pipes for the apartment. Since it was one of my first showers in the apartment, I asked Justin to get the water running. So, I’m standing there wearing only a bathrobe and I’m cold. We turn on the shower and the water is ice-cold. The ice-cold water is splashing everywhere. The water heater is not turning on (pictured below). Eventually the hot water starts to work, but the water heater is bipolar. It goes to practically boiling in a matter of seconds. There is literally no middle ground with this thing. If I turn the cold-water knob ever so slightly, the heater turns off.

Our water heater, place in the kitchen (pictured when turned on)

So, for the next forty minutes, Justin and I are trying to maneuver the water to a normal warm temperature with no luck. Either the water heater is boiling the water or just not working. Since we kept the water running during our experimentation, we both started to get concerned if we are going to run out of water. Like most city dwellers, we get our water from a tank. The city water does not run 24 hours a day like it does in mainland America.

So, Justin’s aerobic workout included running to the water heater in the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the “basement” to check the water tank. My challenge was keep my feet from getting frostbite (I’m over exaggerating here) as the ice-cold water is splashing on my bare feet. After 40 minutes of trying to get the shower to work, I gave up. We discovered that bathroom sink had the capability to have lukewarm water. I stripped my bathrobe and started washing myself with the sink water. I took my washcloth and splashed my body little by little. Mind you, I was shivering at this point. I didn’t care water was getting everywhere, that would have happened regardless. I washed everything but my face and hair by splashing that sink water.

Justin, however, was determined he can fix this. He has more patience than I do or because he wanted to shower more than I did. He finally got the water to be lukewarm from the shower head. I jumped at the opportunity and shampooed my hair quickly. Conditioner was not happening; I couldn’t risk the water to have a tantrum again. As I was doing that, Justin started getting ready for his shower. Instead of turning off the shower water, I left the hose in the sink. Neither of us wanted to re-experience getting it to the right temperature again. I put on my robe and handed him the shower hose for his turn.

Luckily, the shower water stayed in a good mood. Thankfully, it did not change its mind on Justin. Once we were done with showering, I ate some Nutella with bananas and all was right with the world again.

And since then, our luck has been good. This could be due to the fact we officially understand our water system. In essence, once we arrived at the perfect water temperature, we have not changed the temperature knobs. We are lucky that turning off and turning on the water is its own knob. Also, showering when the city water is running is so much better than the tank water. The water pressure is much stronger when the city water runs in the morning. So our shower schedule is highly dependent when the water is running from the city. If this sounds at all complicated, don’t worry…it is. If this sounds like something you don’t want to deal with, then consider yourself privileged.

8 years ago

Georgia’s Poor Infrastructure Led Our Water to be...

by Rawan / Her

Two weeks ago the craziest thing happened with our water system. We had moved into our new apartment about a week prior and our first problem already arose. Justin gives me a call to inform me about our problem and all I could say was “What do you mean our water is blue?!” Justin literally said that our water had turned blue. Like Royal Blue. I was perplexed as to how that happened. But at the same time I was not that confused because the water system in Georgia is complicated. Also, it is Peace Corps; therefore, unexplained $hit happens all the time.

He calmly tells me that the blue tablets that I bought for the toilet bowl is the culprit. I had bought one of those blue gel tablets that slowly dissolve in your toilet tank each time you flush. Attempting to keep our toilet bowl always sanitized, we placed one tablet in our toilet tank before our Tbilisi trip.

Bought this German toilet tank blue tablets

When Justin came back a day earlier than I did, he naturally wanted to use water. Except, he didn’t get clear and clean water. He got bright, royal blue water that is coincidentally the same color as the tablet. He turned on each faucet in the house and they were all blue- including the shower. The conclusion was clear: the water from the toilet tank “backwashes” into the reserve tank of the apartment. The silver lining is at least it isn’t the toilet bowl water that goes back into the tank- just the toilet tank. But I can still say gross?

I can't believe the water from the toilet tank goes back to the reserve tank! — I can’t believe the water from the toilet tank goes back to the reserve tank!

Before I move on with the story, let me try to explain why we even have a reserve tank in the first place. In the United States, I don’t know a single home that has a water reserve tank in any of the states I’ve visited/lived. In Georgia, despite having rain all the time, we don’t always have access to water. I have been without running water for days in this country multiple times. This is not because there is drought (far from it), but because the water infrastructure is poor and crumbling. Therefore, the city water is inconsistent and does not run all day. Each neighborhood in the same city has a different schedule as to when the water runs. Better yet, even the schedule is flimsy. At our apartment, the city water supposedly runs in the early morning. However, I have come home sometimes to have it still running at 2:00 p.m. Other times, I wake up and the water still hasn’t come from the city. To combat not having water, each home has a reserve tank. Thus when the city water is running, the smart thing to do is to fill up the reserve tank. That way when the city water is not running, you simply use the water from the tank.

Our water reserve tank in the "basement" — Our water reserve tank in the “basement”

Back to the story…

Since I was still on the bus and was useless to Justin, he immediately went to problem solving mode. He tried emptying out the entire reserve tank. We obviously can’t use the contaminated water to shower, brush teeth, or cook with it. Problem was that he was not able to empty the tank completely. The pipe that is connected to the tank is placed almost to the bottom. Therefore, the last few gallons of water cannot reach the pipe to be emptied out. Worse yet, the tank would need a professional or someone with tools to dislodge the tank and drain it.

Once I returned to my site, I called every friend who lived in Georgia for a while to see if they had any suggestions. None have encountered the problem before or even knew how to contact a plumber. They did laugh (rightly so) at our misfortune.
Desperate, I called my supervisor at work late at night to see if he could help. It took him a while to actually believe what I was saying since our situation was so odd. After he understood everything, he was able to call our landlord and explain everything in Georgia. Since we couldn’t do anything at this point, Justin and I went to bed with no access to clean water. End Day 1 of no water.

The next morning, our landlord came over. Unfortunately, the city water filled up the tank so the water got diluted. Therefore, the blue chemicals were no longer super visible in the tank. In disbelief, our landlord wanted to see the tablet that caused all this trouble. Once we were about to hand it over, he was going to take the second tablet and put in the toilet bowl. Justin and I jumped to our feet with a firm no!

"Ara!" (no in Georgian). Don't put the second tablet in the toilet tank! — “Ara!” (no in Georgian). Don’t put the second tablet in the toilet tank!

I had my boss call him again and explain to him that the water is diluted. It was important that our landlord knew that the water was still contaminated. Once he believed us, he said he will come back the next day with the proper tools. So there goes the second day with no water. End Day 2 of no water.

Instead of sleeping and enjoy the Giorgoba Holiday, we woke up early. We took empty huge bottles and filled them up with the clean city water (since we didn’t have to use the tank during these hours). Our landlord was coming after the city water’s schedule, so it was important that we fill up those bottles. He rolled almost two hours late to detach the tank from the basement. Justin and the landlord proceeded to empty out all the wasted water in the yard. Then they took the new mop I bought and cleaned the inside of the tank. By the time they were done fixing everything, the city water had stopped. End Day 3 with no water.

So the takeaway is just because a country rains a lot, do not assume clean, available, running water is a thing….

For more information regarding the water supply and sanitation, click here.
It is not just my site with problems, read here for another example.

8 years ago

Apartment Hunting: Finding Our Own Apartment in the Pea...

by Rawan / Her

Apartment Hunting in Georgia as a Peace Corps Volunteer is so different than what I did back in ‘Merica as a corporate professional. If you got some serious dough, you hire a realtor. But for me, apartment hunting in California is somewhere between an art and a science. The science is carefully researching Yelp, Craigslist, and Google mapping every prospective apartment’s distance to your job. The art is trying to judge the apartment and neighborhood by the pictures and reviews alone. Then you check-out the apartments in person. After the leasing agent gets your ID, you get a tour of the unfurnished apartment, the complex’s facilities, and possibly a furnished model. If you like it, you sign a lease. To Americans, this system makes absolute sense, right? Don’t even bother thinking it is the same system in Georgia.

How does it work in the Peace Corps Georgia? Let me outline the loose steps for ya:

First, you inform the Peace Corps that you would like to move out. They will provide a checklist of the minimum requirements that your apartment needs to meet. For example, the apartment must be pre-furnished with the basics. This isn’t difficult, because all apartments for rent come furnished. Ironically, a fridge is not a requirement for the Peace Corps.

Second, you awkwardly break-up with your host family. You use the “it’s not you, it’s me” cliche, expect Justin and I actually meant it. Our host family was textbook perfect as far as host families go. We moved out because Justin’s commute to school was 45 minutes away. Since we don’t own cars here, walking up hill during the winter will be an extremely unpleasant experience.

Third, you ask your community members if they know any apartments nearby for rent. Within the first few days, my sitemate* and I checked out our first lead that her host mom recommended. The experience was something out of a Three’s Company episode. Once we got there, we saw a “hostel” sign. We assumed that maybe the apartment was behind or next to the hostel. It was not. The apartment was the guy who owns the hostel trying to convince me to rent out a room in the hostel. We both looked at the nice guy and said that we would keep him mind if we have guests from out of town. Next (or as we say in Georgian, shemdegi შემდიგი!)

Fourth, you now solicit a friendly Georgian to come to every apartment you want to see. This is to prevent any more language misunderstanding and/or being ripped off. My sitemate’s main counterpart** was nominated as the Designated Apartment Hunting Buddy. The second and third apartments were also suggestions from my sitemate’s host family and other colleagues. The second was a great price point, but there wasn’t any room to cook nor have a place to eat your meal in peace. The third apartment was too expensive and had a sketchy landlord. She reduced the price by over 30% if I would spend an undefined time teaching her young children English. To her, that was a selling point. To me, it sounded like a whole lot of favors for a place I would be paying for. Next.

Not paying rent and providing services for this apartment. Next!

Fifth, you now solicit the service of a Makleri (მაკლერი). They are literally the real life Craigslist. You simply go the main park and approach a bunch of bebias (the term for grandmothers in Georgian). Don’t approach just any bebia, you go up to the ones with a notebook and a cell phone from 2005. These bebias know everything you need to know. They know which apartments are available, the earliest move-in date, the price, and the landlords. They are the Georgian version of Google wrapped up in scarves and warm jackets.

These are the Makleris (მაკლერი). They are your apartment finders.

My sitemate’s counterpart was awesome. She negotiated everything for us with the Makleris. Once we got some leads, we immediately walked to the apartments and checked them out. Apartment number 4 was very promising. However, it got quickly demoted once I discovered there is no heater, chairs, sofa, or table. My husband was able to join us for apartment number 5, which was just terrible. The kitchen was the size of the pantry and there was literally nothing in there. It also smelled of mold.

Now, I was perplexed what to do. Nothing seemed feasible for the price that I wanted to pay. One of my coworkers suggested an apartment to me, but the price was slightly higher than what I wanted. I didn’t even want to consider looking at it. However, with the options that I saw, my husband and I decided to take a look. My sitemate’s counterpart called up the landlord and we met her at a bakery near my job. The second I saw the landlord, we immediately recognized each other. She goes to the same church I do! What a small world!

It turns out the place wasn’t an apartment after all. It was a Georgian version of a very small townhouse or as Georgians like to call it, an “Italian yard.” As we were waiting for her husband to come with the keys, we started chatting. She asked me if I saw the Pope while he was in Georgia in October. I admitted that I got food poisoning (yet again) and had to forfeit my tickets that I had for weeks. She could tell that I was really upset about the missed opportunity. She proceeds to pull out a rosary out of her purse. She hands it over and says in broken English that she would like me to have it. The Pope had given her this rosary during his visit. “Think of me and the Pope every time you look at it,” she said. What a beautiful moment! I hugged her and was so happy and grateful for such a thoughtful gift. I knew this was a genuine moment and it was touching.

The rosary that my new landlord gave me as a present

Once her husband arrived, we all stepped inside the apartment. Justin and I knew that this Italian Yard house was our future home. It had a kitchen, albeit small. It had a big bedroom- and a guest bedroom, gasp! It had a dining room table, but no couches. Even though the bathroom was outdoors, it was attached to the house.

My sitemate’s counterpart translated everything for us. And here comes the final and sixth step: you say you want to move in. Simple as that. No contract needed. The only paperwork we had to fill out was the one for the Peace Corps.

We moved in our apartment about two weeks ago and it has been an interesting ride…more stories to come.

*Sitemate refers to a Peace Corps Volunteers who lives in the same site as you do (in a village, town, or city). Not every Peace Corps Volunteers is lucky enough to have a sitemate.

**counterpart is a host country national (in my case, Georgians) that you partner with at your school or organization. This tends to be the main person that you interact with and do projects with. At schools, English volunteers’ counterparts are their fellow Georgian national English Teachers. At Organizations, it can be tricky as you may have a single or multiple counterparts.

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