As 2018 comes to an end, I have been reflecting on some of my favorite moments of my Peace Corps service during this calendar year. These are no particular order.
During “Thanksgiving” break, my friends and I sat around talking after our dinner until 2 or 3 in the morning. I told them that I am a huge fan of Mary Poppins and then we all proceeded to quote lines and scenes of the movie. To have others bask in favorite movie lines of a 50-year-old movie is priceless. (You can read about our Thanksgiving holiday more here.)
During METS Camp, one of the campers, named Shota, jumped up-and-down and yelled, “I love this so much” as we were working on a DNA experiment. To see a teenager exclaim with such excitement in front of his peers like a five-year-old makes the year-long planning process totally worth it. (If you want to learn more about METS Camp in general, read about it here.)
One of the team during METS Camp preparing their materials for the DNA experiment.
There was a lot of work to get Justin and I approved for another year of service. When it was all said and done, Justin and I were really happy that we could stay in Georgia and continuing serving our community. (Read more about it here or here.)
During DREAM Camp, I taught the campers about the difference between inclusion and tolerance. There was a lot of confusion between the difference between the two acts and why inclusion was more kind and important for humanity. I used odd metaphors to help them explain and it worked! The campers, in turn, used these metaphors and helped explain it to the other campers who could not understand it. I stood there like the happiest teacher knowing that I helped turn on the metaphorical light bulb in their minds to make more acts of kindness into the world. (If you want to learn more about DREAM camp in general, read about it here and here.)
Me on the left and Tasha, a camper, on the right. Tasha explained the definition of inclusion so well during a presentation at DREAM Camp that sparked a conversation and a lot of learning.
Celebrating a big birthday in Tbilisi with my sitemate Erin and my husband Justin. The three of us are born in the same month and year and all three of us are born within 14 days of each other. So naturally, we had a combined birthday celebration and it was amazing.
We had 14 people for dinner to celebrate our birthdays and it was absolutely delicious and wonderful. Getting a reservation for a large party, on the other hand, was a story in of itself.
Taking Georgian Dance classes with two of my sitemates. For some reason, I thought I had a picture of me, Erin, and Nicole taking dance classes, but apparently, I do not. For two months, the three of us learned the Rachuli and Adjaruli, which are two dances from the regions of Racha and Adjara, respectively.
At least once a month, my friends Kate and Rose (who I have mentioned many times before) would come to my site to hang out. Our favorite activity was going to a local establishment and drinking tea. Erin, my sitemate, would also regularly join us. It is possible that we started this late 2017, but I think it took off in 2018 as a regular habit.
Rose, Me, and Kate drinking out for tea 🙂 We would joke and call this type of hangout, “tea club.”
This blog post provides some macro examples of how different my daily life, the simple nuances, is in Georgia…
I have always recommended people to travel. Better yet, I actually think living in a country outside of your own is even a better personal growth experiment. Living outside your own country gives you a sense of another way to live life.
Here are just 5 examples of things that I do in Georgia that I do not do in the United States. These 10 examples provide you with a lens on how my life is truly different than my former life in the United States. Examples are no particular order.
 Making small talk with my neighbors when using the bathroom
As mentioned in this blog post, my bathroom is actually outside. Would you like to venture a guess? My neighbor’s bathroom is also outside. Like many people, the first thing I do in the morning is walk to use the bathroom. Sometimes, I will see my neighbors doing the same thing early in the morning. Both of us are in pajamas and have messy hair, but we will nod in acknowledgment to each other. Other times, in the middle of the day, my neighbor might stop me for a small chat regarding the bills or the animals in our yard.
My dad (the real one, not my host dad) loves this fact about my Georgian home. Each time I talk with him on Skype or Facebook Messenger, he asks me about my bathroom. He finds it hilarious that I have a separate key to lock up my bathroom door and another key for the main part of the house.
I was talking with my dad via Facebook Messanger a few days ago and sure enough, he asked me about the bathroom
Brushing my teeth in the Kitchen
Given that the bathroom is outside, Justin and I have found that brushing our teeth in the kitchen is much easier. First, there is not a single storage cabinet or a drawer in our bathroom. There is one, very unstable shelf in the bathroom. There is nothing of importance on that shelf. My shampoo, conditioner, and shaving cream are located on top of the washing machine in the bathroom. Thus, it would be difficult to store our toothbrush in a clean, stable, and dry place in the bathroom.
Brushing my teeth in my kitchen. Don’t worry, my kitchen sink is constantly kept scrubbed and cleaned since both food and toothpaste goes down that sink.
Secondly, winters can be very harsh in Georgia. To avoid going outside completely, brushing our teeth in the kitchen is much easier because it is warmer. Funny enough though, we do not put our toothbrushes in the kitchen. The floor is not straight, either due to improper engineering or the constant termites. Therefore, we put our toothbrushes on a steady dresser in the bedroom. This is all because I like my electric toothbrush standing up. I do not like the bristles of the toothbrush to touch unsanitary surfaces. If I were to put it in the kitchen, the toothbrush would constantly fall over because the floor is not straight.
Paying rent in cash and without a lease
I have an image that anyone who pays their rent in cash without a lease in the United States is probably up to no good. They may be smugglers, drug dealers, or engaging in other illicit activity. I thank Hollywood for this savory imagery. In Georgia, if you pay your rent in cash, you are ordinary. You are also ordinary if there is no lease.
When we searched for an apartment nearly two years ago, we agreed with our landlord that we would pay on the first day of each month. I remember asking about some sort of lease and I got a weird glance. We had a Georgian friend of ours help with the intricate translations and she even said it was not necessary.
When the end of the month rolls by, Justin or I give our landlord, Levani, a call. He will stop by and pick up the cash and then leaves. Sometimes, I will give him the cash at the end of Mass at our local church. Funny enough, most of the times, we do not even pay him on the first. Because we do it in person, sometimes the both of us are not available on the first day of the month. So we might pay a few days late or a few days early. It is a somewhat flexible schedule.
Not showering every day
This should not be surprising given that showering is an uncomfortable experience in most Georgian homes. The whole process is generally an hour, even though the actual bathing/scrubbing is about 7 minutes (shampooing and shaving legs included). Excluding the summer months, it takes a while to heat the room. It takes a while to figure out the right water temperature. Thirdly, the most time-consuming aspect is mopping and drying the bathroom after the shower.
If we had reliable water flow and stable temperature, I would be tempted to shower more often. Secondly, if there was an actual shower “room” instead of just a shower head hanging in the middle of the room, then mopping all the walls and floor would not be necessary. The process would be much quicker.
Do not worry or fret because we still clean ourselves on the non-shower days. Baby wipes are one of the greatest inventions in modern history. We have no babies in our apartment, but there is always a packet of 120 wipes lying around the apartment. Justin and I have been experimenting with different fragrances. At this point, we really detest the regular baby wipe smell. We bought the “blue ocean” recently, which does not smell like the ocean, but it does smell nice.
Reheating Food without a Microwave
During my time in Georgia, I think I have seen less than a dozen microwaves in over two years. There was not a single microwave in my entire village during PST (to the best of my knowledge). My host family at my site does not have a microwave. My apartment now does not have a microwave.
Surprisingly, my office at World Vision does have a microwave. Yet, even at work, I reheat any leftovers on the stove. The microwave at work is very weak and lame. It might take 7 minutes to reheat a small plate. It does not heat the food evenly and I have to keep on mixing the food to distribute the heat. I realized that the effort is not worth it because heating the food on the stove is more efficient with time and more effective with heat distribution.
My ineffective office microwave. It takes five minutes to microwave anything to get the food to lukewarm temperature.
Ironically, stores at my site will sell microwave popcorn packets. I have tried to find popcorn kernels and they are difficult to find. Yet, microwave popcorn packets are easy and available. I’ve come to realize that people simply rip the packet open and pop the popcorn over the stove.
In conclusion, do not take the simple things in life for granted. Something that you could use every day is simply just not available elsewhere. Stay tuned for part 2..
So here is some exciting news- Justin and I are staying a THIRD year in Georgia! We applied to extend, and we got approved and accepted to continue our service in our community.
Last June, I remembered that Justin was flirting with the idea of staying another year in Georgia. At that point, we felt that like we were finally making significant headway with our projects. It felt weird even thinking of the idea of extending since we were only half way through our service in June 2017. Yet, our service was going by too quickly and we felt that there was a lot more to do in our community. However, we did not take the idea seriously until a couple of months later in September 2017.
In the fall, our Peace Corps Project Managers come to our sites for a “mid-service check-in.” They talk with our counterparts and our directors in the community to see how we are doing. We talk about the projects and the upcoming second-year activities. Justin’s program manager came about a week or so before mine. During Justin’s mid-service check-in, his teachers complimented him on his efforts and success at school. Half-jokingly, they said that they would love to work with Justin for a third year if possible. Justin was very touched by the sentiment. When I came from work, he told me that he would love to extend.
Me and some of my coworkers at my organization. We love celebrating birthdays at the office 🙂
Since I love my job as well, I said, “okay, I guess I will talk to my boss about it tomorrow.” Justin was surprised at how quickly I agreed. There are two reasons why I agreed. First, I do love my job here and being a Peace Corps Volunteer has been a dream of mine. Second, my boss and youth counterpart have approached me about the idea before. In fact, I remember when the applications for the G17s came out, I told my boss, Dato, “The application to get a Peace Corps Volunteer has come out. Can you forward it along to neighboring organizations? Next year, if you want, you can fill it out.”
“Why would I fill it out?” Dato responds with the rhetorical question. I’m thinking, “Oh wow, I screwed up so bad in the first 4 months of service that he doesn’t even want another volunteer. That is not good.” But instead, Dato continues, “I mean, you are extending another year, so I won’t need to apply.” I nearly fell out of my chair with that out-of-nowhere proclamation. I composed myself and said, I was “Dato, extending is incredibly difficult. It takes months and only a few can extend. Since I’m married, Justin would have to extend as well. I just want to let you know it is unlikely.” This occurred around October 2016. The joke is on me, clearly, since I did apply to extend.
I figured that about a year later, he would still feel the same way. Sure enough, the next day, I approached my boss with the idea to see if he would be welcome to it. He was very pleased and gave me a hug saying he would love to work with me for another year. With that, I contacted my Peace Corps Program Manager and informed her of my plans. For the next 5 months, I worked on a plan that would be my “third-year” project.
In order to stay for a third year, we must justify to Peace Corps why our stay is necessary. Granted, this makes complete sense. Our projects are supposed to be two years long, so if we need to stay longer, a well-sounded reason should be necessary. Each of us worked with our counterparts to craft our third-year projects that would benefit the organization/school.
Ainsley (right) will be extending with me for a third year! We are both G16s and on DREAM Camp together.
The paperwork was due in February 2018 and we submitted it. After that, we had to go through medical clearance again in-country. Then, we waited for all the approvals to go through, including from Peace Corps Headquarters. Justin and I finally got our extension approved in early May after months of work and discussion!
It is an odd feeling because many of our friends are preparing to leave next month. Some of our friends are going to grad school, a couple will participate in Fulbright, and others will start working. Meanwhile, Justin and I just bought a food processor to make our last year even more comfortable.
Cheers to our the third year of service! Some of these lovely faces will be leaving next month and some will stay 🙂
Peace Corps has acted a bit of a doctor and I have been a bit of a patient. The medical prescription is a “chill pill.” I actually hate that phrase because it is normally said in an angry tone, “take a chill pill, dude!” But here, it is more like, “I’m just going with the flow, mannnnn.” As someone who is clearly a Type A personality, I have had to adjust my expectations. Demanding a detailed-orientation and punctual events is not a realistic expectation. With that being said, I have reinvented my leadership style since I’ve had to lead a lot of events in Peace Corps thus far.
In our Close of Service Conference last week, the US Ambassador to Georgia came and presented to my cohort. During his presentation, he said, (I’m paraphrasing here), “Returned Peace Corps Volunteers are marketable because you are extremely flexible and adaptable in ever-changing and unfamiliar environments.” I looked around the room when he said that. There were a bunch of nods and agreeable facial expressions. To risk sounding obnoxious, we are more flexible than a regular, standard professional in the United States. We did not all start off that way. Many of us have changed some of our working and leadership styles to become adaptable to our Georgian environment.
On average, in the United States, we micromanage the heck out of a project. Every little obstacle must be foreseen by a magic eight ball during the planning process. Every step must be executed to the minute it was predicted. I say this confidently because I used to be a program/project manager.
For example, one of the programs I used to manage was the division’s quarterly bonus program. There were over 6,000 employees in that system and when combined, their bonuses would naturally be in the millions. Like nearly every system in the world, it also had its glitches. I would literally try to look over every single employee’s entry to inspect if were would be any problems in advance. However, everything was always in flux. Thus, there would be maybe one or two entries in a given quarter that would cause a glitch in the system. When/if there was a glitch, that is less than 1% of the entries in the system.
Instead of simply saying, “let’s go and fix it,” the first question was always, “Rawan, how did you miss this?” Natural question. I would have asked the same thing if I were my boss back in the United States. The perfect employee would have predicted these glitches in advance. Let me tell you, I predicted a LOT. But because in the real world, no one can always have 100% success rate, especially considering the magnitude of that program. Any glitches were typically fixed before the employees would have even noticed.
We call this the White Bridge, part of an old neighborhood of my town
 Georgia is such a different story. When some natural little hiccup happens here, it is almost pointless asking how/why it happened. During the beginning of my service, that question would roll off my tongue before I would even notice it. My counterparts would just look at me and shrug. They also had a look of, “why are you even asking? It is what it is.” Their sense of curiosity was non-existent compared to mine. I was intrigued by what caused the mishap and they just rolled with the punches. Two years later, I am now officially as flexible as my counterparts.
Let paint you an example that happened today. My counterpart and I reserved a hotel and its conference room in November or December. When we went to the hotel, the manager simply said, “sure, that is fine.” She did not check the calendar. She did not even write the dates down. So of course, I had my counterpart call and constantly check up on the hotel every few weeks to ensure that they would not book over our “reservation.”
I took this photo taking a car cable in my town. The hotel is somewhere on the hill that is the upper left-hand corner.
Two days ago, we went to the hotel in person- again. We wanted to reconfirm the cost, the conference room, the menu, and the room. Everything was confirmed, except the menu. I asked what they plan on serving and she said, “just the regular food.” That was literally as specific as she could get.
Now, get this….the day before the conference, she calls us and said that the conference room is no longer available. They decided to do renovations today. Her plan was that we do the conference in the hallways. In the morning 24 hours before the conference, she sends a text message to my youth counterpart with pictures of the hallway. She did not even apologize but stated the alternative plan as a fact.
So, my counterparts and I are figuring out a plan on how to deliver a 3-day conference in an undisclosed hallway of a hotel. I wish I am making this up, but I am not. The frustrating part is that the hotel manager still wants us to pay for the conference room. My counterpart and I think that is unfair and we will continue to negotiate on that portion. As for the hallway, it seems big enough. I think it will be fine. I do have to laugh at their timing though.
So ask yourself, do you see someone in America do last minute (and not urgent) renovations on a reserved conference room the day before? Oh, and suggest a hallway as an alternative? I’m going to say probably not. This, my friends, is the definition of flexibility.
My first job interview was when I was 17 years old. My sister and I decided that one day we wanted to get a job, so we walked to the biggest employer of our city to see if they had any openings. Back in my day (I’m just kidding, I’m not that old), you could just walk over and ask for a job. We lived close to a theme park and we thought working there might be fun.
I remember thinking to myself that I had no idea what I was doing. No one ever walked me through what an interview is like or what I should expect. Somehow, even though I did not dress in business professional attire, I still got the job after three hours of interviewing. Working as a food hostess was a great professional learning experience. Looking back, I made two big mistakes: I had no resume and I did not dress professionally. Granted, I was applying for a minimum wage job and wore jeans to the interview….but still, not the best idea.
In this regard, the youth in my community and I have that in common. I had little opportunities for mentors and career advice, and so do these youth. However, I did have a school counselor (who was an amazing human). Public schools in Georgia do not have school counselors. In fact, I’m not sure if Georgians are even aware that schools counselors are a thing. Therefore, learning how to write a resume and exploring career goals are not topics discussed in schools.
One of our mentors (left) working with her two female youth on their resumes and 5 year goals
The previous cohort of the Gender Equality Committee did a mentoring project in one community. It was gender split and the beneficiaries were the IDP youth (Internally displaces persons, typically from either Abkhazia or South Ossetia). However, this year, my cohort (the G16s) wanted to expand this program to different regions within Georgia. We held workshops in three regions: Samgerlo, Imereti, and Guria. My friend Kelley was the mastermind behind the whole thing. I helped her run just one of the workshops: the Imereti Region Workshop.
For each workshop, we planned on recruiting 8Â mentors (4 female and 4 male). We also wanted 16 youth (8 female and 8 male). The plan was to equally split up the youth with the respective mentor with the same gender. As I’m writing this, I’m giving a little chuckle. Why on earth did we think we could get the perfect number? Just because we wrote in our Let Girls Learn grant that we could 16 youth and 8 mentors, reality always has a different plan in Georgia!
Ryan, Peace Corps Volunteer, (3rd from the left top row) with the male mentors and youth at the Workshop during the gender split session
I co-hosted and organized the Imereti Region Workshop along with my friend Ryan. You’ve should have heard his name by now, I’ve mentioned him in various posts. Ryan calls me five days before the workshop and tells me that we do not have any youth signed up. I nod my head and just sigh. My response was, “Ryan, it is Tuesday afternoon. Friday is a holiday. Do you think we can actually find 16 kids to show up within 2 business-days?”
Optimistically, he responds, “we can try!” I replied, “I guess it does not really matter. Even if we found a bunch of kids, they could just drop out any second. Let’s just try to get kids. If there aren’t many by Thursday afternoon, we will postpone the event.” Thursday rolls around and Ryan calls me back. “So, we actually have more than 16 kids now.” I laughed and said, “of course, we do. But I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them do not come.”
Sure enough, Saturday rolls around and we only had nine kids show up on time. We waited a while and then three more stroll in like being late is still the fashionable thing to do. Kelley, Ryan, and I look at Manana (Ryan’s counterpart) and ask her if more people are coming. Manana said she will be right back and walked out the room. Through the window, I see Manana walk to park in the center of town. I assumed she had a good reason and did not think anything of it. Minutes later, Manana comes back by gently telling a teenage boy she brought with her to sit down. I asked Ryan what happened. Apparently, Manana walked through the park, some a kid, and “invited” him to attend this workshop.
I have to hand it to the Georgians. If they want to make an event happen, it will happen. In America, I would not be so confident to just go to a park and grab a kid. Secondly, I would have been stressed out if days before the event I were to have to registered participants. But so life here….predictably unpredictable.
Other than the little participant count mishaps, the event went without a hitch. Kelley did a great job presenting the various job-related skills. I conducted a session on job interviewing. The kids were very engaged. In fact, I don’t remember seeing any kids trying to sneak in a little Facebook time on their mobile phones. I was pleasantly surprised at how active the youth and the mentors were in the sessions.
Some of our mentors and youth as they were participating in an activity during the Job Interviewing Session.
When the day was over, one of the mentors I invited came up to me and said, “Workshops like these are very important in Georgia. It is a shame that only these youth came. More should have come.” I had also invited Justin’s Georgian tutor and she echoed the sentiment. In fact, she even suggested that Kelley and I should hold the fourth workshop at her private school. Granted, we had only planned for three workshops, but Kelley and I loved the idea of hosting more workshops. In all honesty, I loved that the mentors and the mentees loved the workshop that they volunteered their opinions that more should be conducted.
Given it is early December, I only hang out consistently with a warm metal box at my house; I call it my heater. Everyone else calls it a heater too, so I suppose I should give it a better nickname…Regardless, I was next to the only heater in my place, propping my feet up on a stool, with my laptop on my lap (and verifying in my mind, once again, why they named a laptop). Most Georgian homes do not have insulation or central heating. I am extremely lucky to have one gas heater in my home that works- even if it does not heat the entire house. So there IÂ am sitting there trying to stay warm when suddenly my dad calls me on Facebook Messenger.
Actual footage of me next to the heater from November-March
He begins with, “How are you doing, Baba?” I responded with, “I’m working right now.” He was confused since it was around 10 p.m. at night on Saturday. I told him two things: 1) Peace Corps life does not have a regular 40 hour week. It especially does not end at the end of the workday. 2) I had a record number of grants to read, so working on the weekend was a given. This promoted a discussion to exactly what grants are in Peace Corps and why I was reading them. I told him that I was on the Small Projects Assistance Committee. Since my dad was curious, I thought….this might be a good blog post.
I had barely mentioned that I was on SPA on this post, but I did not go into detail. As stated on the USAID website, “The Small Project Assistance Program (SPA) is a joint collaboration between USAID and the Peace Corps to support local community development…Local Sustainability Division manages USAID Mission access to SPA and encourages USAID Missions and Offices to participate in the program. Peace Corps Volunteers compete for funds allocated by USAID through a proposal process managed by the local Peace Corps field offices.” I believe that each Peace Corps manages SPA slightly differently, but since I’m in Georgia, I’ll explain a bit of how it goes here.
The current SPA Committee. From left to right, Erin (G17), Dora (G17), Sarah (G17), Felix the Cat, Kara (G16), and Daniel (G16). And I’m taking the picture
Have you ever followed any of Peace Corps’ posts on social media? Well, I bet you that a lot of those posts were SPA related! For example, if you see an English Cabinet that is renovated in a village school- that is probably SPA! So basically, SPA is a powerful tool to get our $hit done! We mobilize our communities with notebooks in hand changing lives.
Sounds cheesy, well, it is because it is. How are so many of these grants ends up so awesome?
My friend Emily, right, on the launch day of her Healthy Living Club
First, we welcome and encourage Peace Corps Volunteers to have us review their grants in advance before submitting it. In essence, I would read the grant and offer the Peace Corps Volunteer objective critique and constructive feedback. It could be about the grant idea in general or the actual writing of the grant.
“Your grant is fine, but here is some things you could work on.”
However, they are not required to submit us anything in advance. We are there if they want us. When it comes to the recommendation after the submission deadline, each of us actually read every single grant. To reiterate, all six of us reads every single grant submitted and rates each grant based on objective criteria. During our quarterly meeting, we discuss the grant with two of the Peace Corps staff members and then offer our recommendations to the Country Director.
Each Peace Corps Volunteer and one counterpart is required to go through training at PDMÂ Project Design Workshops. Each volunteer brings along one counterpart to the training, that way, we are also increasing the capacity of host country nationals. If the grant is approved, they are either funded a maximum of $2,500 if it is a local or $5,000 if it is community-wide. For basically chump change for many companies, these funds can literally shape and change a community.
These are the G15s when we were wrapping up our May 2017 cycle. We basically hide in the Peace Corps office’s large conference room discussing each grant.
Being a part of the process is amazing. First, I feel like it is one of most impactful part of service. I have helped dozens of volunteers with their projects indirectly. I have offered them suggestions that strengthened their proposal and/or their grant idea. Some volunteers have engaged us in conversations with their counterparts from the start. Others will just send us their final version to ensure they aren’t missing anything before the submission. However, speaking with Peace Corps Volunteers in the early stages can be fun. It can shape the success of the grant. For example, my friend Emily (who is on the Gender Equality Committee with me), engaged me from the start! She wanted to do a healthy living club at her school.
Emily teaching her kids some sporting techniques!
There have been times where she would call me, “Rawan, can we do this? Can we do that?” I have spoken to her and her counterparts on speaker phone giving recommendations. I also read the grant and offered a comprehensive review once she put pen to paper. When her grant got funded, I almost felt like I was a part of the project! It is awesome to serve as a resource for other volunteers to help them create and implement better projects in their community!
No, this is not click bait. My friends and I actually camped where the dinosaurs once lived. I will admit, the campsite site is not called, “Jurassic Park,” but rather, “Sataplia- Imereti Caves Protected Areas.”
The entrance sign
Here is your Georgian lesson for the day, “Tapli” means “honey.” The kind that you eat, not the nickname that your grandmother has for you. The Georgian language has some logic to it, whenever the “place” for something is, you add, “sa” in front of it. Therefore, “Sataplia” loosely translates to, “the place where the honey is.” So, why am I referring to it as the Real Jurassic Park? Well, Sataplia is well-known in Georgia for the dinosaur footprints and its beautiful caves.
Katharine, Peace Corps Volunteer, took this wonderful picture of the dinosaur footprints
The plan was to leave in the morning on Saturday, November 25th, 2017. We originally wanted to go to Oktase Canyon, but they were not allowing any visitors because of the snow. Many of us traveled far for this camping trip (I did not), so the snow was not going to stop us from camping. So we settled on Sataplia because it was close and mainly because they were open to visitors.
Sataplia National Park has this viewing balcony that you can view the mountains and the city of Kutaisi. (photo cred: Erin)
Everyone who knew we were camping thought we were crazy. The other American Peace Corps Volunteers thought, “Don’t freeze out there!” Thanksgiving weekend has been the first snow of the season for many parts of Georgia. The Georgians were simply dumbfounded to why anyone would want to sleep outside- by choice. I was able to get a local Georgian friend of mine to call his uncle to drop us off at Sataplia. His question was, “Where are you going after Sataplia?” Our answer, “We are staying at Sataplia.” He kept on repeating the question, because why on earth would anyone stay in Sataplia in the snow. From then on, we coined the theme of the camping trip, “#Campingordeath.”
Outbound to camping! Front right-hand corner: Neil. Second row (left to right): me, Joe, Erin, Katharine, and Cherish. Back row: Tyler’s hand (you can only see him waving) (photo cred: Neil)
When we arrived, we definitely looked like the crazy Americans. The park rangers were confused as to why we had so many things with us. When we explained to them that we are Peace Corps Volunteers who want to go camping, they welcomed us with open arms! The director of the park had hosted (as a host family) a Peace Corps Volunteer in 2013. So within minutes, some of them left the park to go buy some cha-cha (similar to vodka), wine, and bread to celebrate!
“Quick! Do the T-Rex!” Sataplia has a couple of dinosaur models in the park. (photo cred: Lasha, via Erin’s phone)
In the meantime, one of the park rangers, Lasha, took us a personal tour of the caves and the park. Lasha embodied the hospitality of Georgia. Of course, the entire tour was in Georgian, but we understood most of it 😉
For the next couple of hours, we drank and ate bread with the park rangers in their office. We shared with them our pretzels and snacks that we bought for the trip. You simply cannot get a better cultural integration moment than that! We laughed and ate and just enjoyed each other’s company.
Neil and I collecting firewood! The snow was slippery, especially when walking with a huge log downhill! (photo cred: Katharine)
By the time we finished drinking and snacking with the park rangers, it was almost 4:30 p.m. We immediately started setting up our camp and collected firewood. It was the first time in my life collecting firewood. For bonfires in the U.S, we would just buy the wood at the store. Nope, I spent the next couple of hours looking for dead, fallen branches in the woods. I’m not going to lie, I surprised myself with how much I carried and contributed.
Collecting firewood during sunset! I loved this photo that Erin took of me. It just captures the beautiful Georgian nature.
The park rangers let us borrow their shovels, so we used that to remove the snow where our tents would be. Then, we set up our tents and our sleeping bags. I inherited an old sleeping that has been passed down several Peace Corps generations in Georgia. I am very thankful for it because it kept me alive throughout the night.
One of my favorite pictures of the trip. Erin captured our campsite with the set setting down. It is picture perfect, to say the least.
We spent the night telling each other stories, huddled around each other to stay warm. Tyler kept up the fire most of the night and he did such a good job. Yay us for collecting enough firewood! It was definitely a fun experience camping. Now, would I do it again in the muddy snow? Debatable.
I also found out that on our way back, the park rangers had given the office key to one of us. They offered their indoor office in case it was too cold outside. So, it was nice knowing that they did not want to find seven, dead American bodies lying in the snow the next morning.
Yarn Skallah*: “So we have a slight issue. Baia does not think she can get us a Turkey anymore.”
Me: “Do you think you can get a turkey? I mean you can literally probably just kidnap one off the street? They just run around, maybe no one will notice.”
Yarn Skallah: “I was hoping you get one at your site.” I simply laughed at this.
Me: “What is a Thanksgiving in Georgia without a bit of drama? I have never seen a turkey sold here. But I will ask Dato and we will figure it out.”
*Yarn Skallah is a nickname that Ryan adopted during our PST experience. He has specifically requested for me to use his nickname in this blog post. I will refer to him as Yarn going forward.
Turkeys literally just roam around in villages and towns. Suggesting to kidnap one is not unrealistic, but still unethical.
The above conversation is in reference to our planning stage for our Thanksgiving event in a nearby village. Baia, referenced above, is a local, famous, female winemaker who has a guesthouse attached to her vineyard. Our plan was to rent out the guesthouse, invite several of our Peace Corps friends, and celebrate Thanksgiving early with Baia. I also invited Dato, my director at World Vision, to celebrate with us.
Immediately after that conversation, I request Dato’s help, “Do you know if we can buy a Turkey here?” He nods and said, “Yes, at the poultry market. We can go today and see.” So within the hour, I hop in the car and Dato and I were off to this poultry market that I had no idea existed. Funny enough, it was a couple of blocks away from my host family’s house. This market was filled with live chickens and pigs for sale. Unfortunately, that day, there were only 5 live teenage turkeys. We felt that the price was a bit high, so we decided to pardon the turkeys’ lives and let them live for another day.
You can see a couple of pigs in the bottom right-hand corner. The rest of the picture is filled with live chickens.
I felt perplexed by the whole thing. I really wanted to brine the turkey for days before roasting it. However, Dato was convinced that on the weekends, the price of a live turkey drops. Considering that our event was on a Saturday night, this would work out in our favor. Whilst all this was happening, I could not help but laugh at the situation.
Here I am arguing about live turkeys for Thanksgiving with a villager who grows them for a living. In California, Justin and I would buy our turkey weeks in advance from Costco and begin defrosting it a few days before Thanksgiving. It got me thinking, did pilgrims, the ones who did not raise turkeys, have the same conversation at the market nearly 300-400 years ago? Or did they just kidnap one off the “street” like I jokingly suggested we should do?
During the whole week, I had a gut feeling that there might not be a functioning oven. I know that may seem odd to you, but MOST homes in Georgia do not have ovens. Yarn and I continue to discuss this potential dilemma on the phone while we are both working. Dato overhears me and proudly suggests, “We can just boil the turkey.” I swallowed. I calmly said, “we are not boiling the turkey. You do not boil turkeys. You roast the turkey. I cannot stress this enough, but we need an oven.”
This is the picture Baia sent us. This oven was in no shape to bake anything beyond chicken breasts.
We call Baia to see her oven situation. She basically has something equivalent to an easy-bake oven. Her suggestion, “boil the turkey.” Hearing that sentence was making my blood boil. How do people think this is a suitable alternative to baking?! In the end, I told Yarn that I will attempt to bake the turkey at my house and then wrap it in foil and come to the dinner a bit late. But then, we were stressing out because I had no way to bake the turkey unless I literally just put it raw and hanging on the oven rack. I do not have a big enough casserole dish or anything equivalent. This was a problem for future Rawan. I decided to just focus on buying the stupid turkey first.
I go to Georgian tutoring clearly stressing out about how to cook the turkey. A first world problem is, “oh, I hope I don’t make it dry.” A Peace Corps problem is, “I hope I have an oven. I hope I don’t get chicken $hit murdering a turkey. Oh, if I do find an oven and a turkey, I hope I have a way to bake it.”
My tutor’s suggestion for getting stressed about the turkey’s death was, “It is good you have yard.”
“What do you mean, Lana?”
“So Justin can kill it in the yard and you do not have to worry.”
I proclaimed, “Justin does not kill chickens. Turkeys are bigger. He still won’t kill it.”
Lana suggested, “For cooking, you can still boil the turkey.”
OH, MY GOD. Stop it with the boiling suggestion already.Â
On Saturday morning, Dato, my supervisor, was going to hire one of World Vision on-call drivers, Dato, to pick Justin and me up. Oh, this is not a typo. They are both named Dato. In Georgia, you will find a lot of Datos (short for Davit, the Georgian version of David). In fact, half of the males in my office are called Dato. Regardless, the two Datos, Justin, and I arrive at the poultry market early that Saturday morning. The plan is to see the marshutkas (mini buses) arrive from the villages with the live chickens, turkeys, and pigs in tow to ensure we get the best turkey.
While Dato was finalizing our transportation for the next morning, I sat on my dining room chair thinking about how I’m going to cook this turkey, Thanksgiving style.
Ryan calls me with a suggestion, “How about you cook the turkey at Baia’s?”
“But Ryan, I thought we went over this. Her oven won’t work. It might be better if I cook it my house. The turkey is supposed to cool off a bit before we cut it anyway.”
“What if I bring my oven?”
“You are telling me you going to lug around a big oven.” It would be a logistics nightmare to carry a huge home oven from the town to the village. Then, I remembered, “Wait, you don’t have an oven.”
….an awkward moment of silence…
Ryan admits, “Yeah, I just bought one.”
“What do you mean you just bought an oven?” In pure excitement, I continued, “You are literally the Thanksgiving Santa Claus. You literally just saved Thanksgiving.”
Ryan had bought a small, electric and very portable oven. It was similar to Baia’s, but it was bigger. It would be enough to cook a very small, teenage turkey. (Well, so we thought…more on that later).
I called Dato immediately after and told him the change in plans. We were now going to go early to Baia’s so that I cook the turkey there.
When Saturday rolled around, Dato was very matter of a fact about the whole thing. We strolled to the turkey section of the market. He looked at me and said straight in the face, “Which one do you want?” I felt very connected to my food at that moment. I said, “I don’t know.” So Dato proceeded to pick two up and offered both to me to see which one weighed more.
Holding up the turkey at the live market!
As I held up the turkeys by its legs, they were both super chill and calm about it. To be more specific, they did not object. Both of them just hung upside down, blinking at me, unknowing that one of them was literally about to die. The picture above looks like it may be flapping its wings. Trust me though, the wings naturally spread hanging upside down. Another side note, turkey features are super soft.
Here is a Georgian turkey shopping hint: blow on its features while it is upside down. The trick is to blow softly (but hard enough) to see the skin below the features. That way, you can tell what food the turkey is fed. Is it junk food? Is it proper cornmeal?Don’t ask me how exactly, but skin color has something to do with it. I’m not sure I believe in this, but my boss totally took a huff puff or two.
When I finally came to my decision, I gave both back to Dato and said, “That one!” It felt very off-with-its-head-queen-of-hearts moment for me. The turkey seller took the turkey and went off to butcher area for it to be killed (picture below). I could have went home with the live turkey, but I decided to spend the whole 5 GEL to have it killed and plucked! It was honestly the best 5 GEL that I ever spent.
Sorry that the picture is blurry, I was trying not to be weird taking photos of this moment.Â
The process of killing, plucking, and cleaning the turkey took about 30 minutes. While we were waiting, we stood in the warm “roasting pig room.” The men who worked there were so curious as to why these two Americans and one Georgian man were at the market early in the morning buying a turkey. Second moment of confusion, why would I waste a whole 5 GEL to have someone else kill it for me. Would you like to guess what happened next?
The room where we waited while the turkey was being killed
You guessed it, they gave me suggestions on how to cook the turkey. You guessed again, “Ah, just boil it!” I looked at my boss and I finally snapped. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to take advise from people who have never cooked a turkey. And, I’m not going to take advice on something so inherently American- something that is almost a 400-year-old tradition.” Dato laughed. I, on the other hand, am serious about turkey. On a depressing note, the conversation was a very good distraction to the noise of the pigs being killed. Silver lining, our turkey was very quiet.
When it was plucked and cleaned, the lady offered to put the turkey in a garbage bag for me and Justin. It was so awkward just going home with a plastic bag with a turkey just lying dead there. I think I miss buying meat and poultry where it is on a styrofoam platter covered with saran wrap.
Me, preparing the turkey before baking it in Ryan’s oven!
While I started preparing the turkey at Baia’s, I noticed something I was not happy about. The turkey was not fully cleaned out of its insides. Anatomy lessons are great, I just wished I did not have to have one on Thanksgiving. I was surprised to see how small some of the organs were. If I’m grossing you out, I’m sorry. At least, you were not the one who had to clean it out. I look all happy there, but moments before, I was nervously about to cry while cleaning the turkey out properly. Again, another first world privilege I took for granted.
As the way Peace Corps life goes, another challenge awaited. After I prepped the turkey perfectly, we noticed that it did not fit in Ryan’s oven. I picked the smallest turkey I could find at the market, but it was a bit too big. Neil, another Peace Corps Volunteer, tried punching the turkey’s breast so that the bones would break. That didn’t work. So we took regular kitchen scissors and tried cutting it while maintaining its main form. That slightly worked. So I wrapped the whole thing in foil so it does not directly touch the oven’s “ceiling.”
Dato and I literally squeezing the turkey in the oven
The turkey was so small, it took less than 2 hours to bake! Remember how I said I bought one of the small turkeys at the market? Well, apparently, it showed when we took it out of the oven. The poor turkey was so underdeveloped that the breast was protruding. It looked like a bunch of voulchers took a few nibbles before we were able to serve it.
The turkey once it was done baking. This is before we ate it.
Regardless, it was delicious. I mean, how could it not be? It was the freshest turkey any of us have ever had. I also managed to cook it perfectly, despite my conditions. It was not dry and it tasted like a real, American Thanksgiving meal.
At the dinner table, many of us toasted to our friends and family back home. We combined the Georgian tradition of toasting with hoars and the American tradition of going around the table individually giving thanks.
Yarn toasting with a Georgian horn to express what he is grateful for.
When it was my turn, I gave thanks to the turkey. Without this turkey, this Thanksgiving would not have been possible.
*Only one animal was harmed for the making of this thanksgiving.
Mini METS are our one-day STEM workshops conducted at various Peace Corps Volunteers’ sites.
When BJ, Amanda, and I created the METS Initiative in 2016, BJ had suggested that it should be more than just a camp. There should be another component of the initiative: Mini-METS. Amanda and I wholeheartedly agreed. Mini-METS are one-day “camps” that would be hosted in various Peace Corps Volunteers’ sites upon request. As you may know, METS is our STEM initiative. It is STEM spelled backward and it also means “Me too” in Georgian.
Even though Georgia has made efforts to increase science education, it is still not a popular major to study in university. Not only that, many of its scientific facilities are outdated. This is one of the reasons why the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) invests in Georgia. In fact, MCC is the one that awarded San Diego State University the $30 million grant to partner with Georgia to have an American Accredited University in Tbilisi. As you may recall from my previous blog post about METS, Georgian San Diego State Universities acted as our counselors in our camps.
As this article in the Daily Aztec mentions, the money from the grant “will be allocated toward renovating labs and improving the quality of higher education.” Also, the article mentioned that “MCC wanted an American accredited U.S. degree to be offered in Georgia because Georgia needed higher education to meet the standards of emerging democracies.” This is one of the many reasons why the whole METS initiative started. This is why we feel that we need to continue our work in METS beyond just our summer camps.
Rose (left), me (center), and Atka (right) hosting our Mini-METS on Saturday, October 28, 2017
This past Saturday, on October 28th, 2017, Atka, Rose, and I hosted the second Mini-METS in a local town in the Imereti Region at our friend Ryan’s site. The first one was conducted in the spring by BJ and Amanda. On Saturday, we had nearly twenty youth show up to the event. We conducted three activities for Mini-METS: 1) rockets 2) math tricks and lastly 3) lungs. With each presentation, we discussed the theory first and then did the experiment. It is important for students to understand the science behind the experiment. I don’t want them walking away thinking it was “magic.”
Atka explaining the chemical composition for our rocket experiment
So for the rockets, Atka explained what were reactants and catalysts. She taught them how all the materials interact with each other to create a mini “rocket.” Curious to what our rockets actually were? Simple. They were Alka Seltzer tablets, water, and a film tube canister. No, seriously that is it. You put half an Alka Seltzer tablet in a small film canister with warm water. Close the lid. Place the canister upside down and wait for it to launch!
What was surprising was some kids left immediately after this experiment. It was a bit shocking because this experiment is a huge hit and every student loved it! They were all jumping in glee and we had to do some crowd control. It is just difficult to compete for their attention- on the weekend- especially when they have Facebook waiting for them at home.
Then, I did a math presentation. I know, it sounds like a snooze. What kid would want to learn math on a Saturday? Ryan was hesitant to have this when I told him that it was part of our agenda. I can’t blame him. I thought it was going to be boring when I introduced it at the Kobuleti camp. However, it was such a hit. The kids in Kobuleti were literally jumping out of their seats to participate.
So, I tested my luck for the second time to do it at Mini-METS. Guess what? Another hit. I taught them how to divide big numbers by five – in seconds and in our heads! Spoiler alert: you double it and then divide it by then. I decided to do a simple math trick because many of the students in the audience were in the sixth grade.
Lastly, Rose did our lung presentation. She explained how lungs work and what can cause inflammation. One way to stop inflammation of the lungs is smoking. Thus, it was basically a mini-anti-smoking campaign. How best to illustrate how bad smoking is? Do an experiment where you can literally see the damage after a few minutes.
Rose (center) is explaining how to properly use our lung model above.
Our lung model is basically built from plastic bottles, balloons, and cotton. The device is the one actually smoking the cigarettes. Even after even a few cigarettes, the cotton inside the plastic bottle changes color to a more yellowish-brown. Thus, this indicates that lung damage from smoking is almost immediate. It is a great way to show kids immediately how smoking damages the lungs. I want to say this experiment is completely harm-free, but I cannot. We did incur a bit of second-hand smoke during this process.
The students “building” their lungs for the experiment.
A lot of the kids enjoyed this too. I’m not sure how many of them will not pick up the habit of smoking though. Smoking in Georgia is a big problem. The majority of males in this country smoke. It is not very “lady-like” for women to smoke, therefore, the problem is mostly with men. Regardless, we hope that we were able to impart some knowledge on these youth.
Overall, Mini-METS was a success. It is really fun seeing kids get excited about science and math. It made it worth it to wake up early that Saturday morning!
I remember as a child whenever I couldn’t get a new toy, I would whine, “I wish I were rich. Then, we could buy it.” My mother and grandmother would look at me and tell me to re-evaluate my definition of being rich. They said that richness can come in many forms. The corniest one of all is, “richness in the heart, where you are full of the love given by family and friends.” Naturally, they received the biggest eye roll a child could give. At the time, they weren’t getting any love with that response.
My facial expression as a kid probably looked like this cutie.
Now, as an adult, I have to agree with their definition. I’m probably going to impart that same “corny and lame” definition to my future children. I’m assuming, but I think we can all agree that there is truth to their definition. However, how many of us would still chase after the traditional sense of being rich- you know, the one with money? A year into service, I don’t think I will be chasing massive “traditional wealth” any longer. However, I will not deny that I would like to live comfortably. Basically, I want to be able to take modest vacations once a year and live in a small house that I own. In essence, I would like to be solidly middle class.
During service, I have a lot of positives and negatives moments just like any other person. However, in the Peace Corps, the lows tend to go a little deeper than an average person in America. Caveat, pain is all relative. For instance, my Georgian neighbors do not think it is a bad day if their water runs out as well as their electricity, internet, and gas. They just deal with it because that is their daily life. However, in the beginning of my service, that would be a bad day for me. Why? Because I never had to deal with all things going out concurrently in the United States (if I paid my bills that is). My definition of a bad day means so different than a year ago.
Just last week the electricity went out due to a rain storm. We did not have electricity for hours. Yet, we worked away at the office.
During my Peace Corps mid-service training last month, when I turned on the hot water in the shower at the hotel, it did not work. Instead of fussing with the nozzle or getting irritated, I just took a REALLY cold shower. I got used to things not working that I did not even try to fix it. Low and behold, if I turned the nozzle to the cold end and waited, hot water would have appeared. My mistake. I should have tried to outplay the engineering of the bathroom design. This insignificant experience shows you something though, I no longer get frustrated over the little annoying things in life. I just move on and deal with the “bad.” I only discovered that the water indicators were switched after conversing with my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers who experienced the same thing. I have gotten to the point now that when I do have the perfect shower temperature, I have a great day. Little things like that make me ecstatic.
Therefore, if hot showers make me happy, imagine how grateful I am for having friends and family visit me. As you already know, my great-uncle visited in February and my friend Sarah visited me in April. In July, I had four different people visit me. My friend Nicole, one of my closest friends since I was 14 years old, came for nearly three weeks. My friend Tim, from my study abroad experience in Amsterdam, came from England. Then, my aunt and uncle from my dad’s side came for a weekend at the end of July. Then, my friend Danielle visits me a month later. I don’t know anyone as fortunate to have this many people visit them during their Peace Corps. Thus, I feel rich that I have so many people in my life supporting me in this journey that they are willing enough to take a plane to this part of the world.
Danielle and I holding the Georgian Flag during her first day visiting me on Shepard’s Day, August 12, 2017.
In terms of the love and support I receive, I am very rich. It does not take much for me to remember this either. Every day, in my town, I see children begging for money. I see old ladies sitting on street corners outstretching their hand for some spare change. There are a lot of street dogs and cats. I do have the hardest time with seeing the children and the dogs.
For children, I cannot imagine growing up and being ignored by everybody or even worse, being treated worse than an animal. The street children are shoved and kicked out of restaurants. The children do harass the customers. Sometimes, the children even wrap their bodies around unwilling customers’ legs. I just cannot even imagine the psychological damage, the abuse, and the neglect they grow up with. The silver lining is that I’ve traveled to countries were situations for street children is much worse. There are organizations, including mine, that works to help alleviate child poverty and advocate for children’s rights.
I cannot say so much for the cats and dogs. One day, as I was walking home from work, I heard the loudest cries I’ve ever heard around the corner from my house. I turned to see where the noise is coming from and I saw a dog limping and yelling. One of its hind legs was nearly severed. The dog was limping and one of its legs was hanging on by a thread. A pool of blood was underneath where it was standing. I assumed that the dog was run-over by a car. In those few minutes, I have no idea if anyone helped the dog. I’m not perfect either, I was so horrified that I walked away crying. I was not able to stomach the sight. For the next 30 minutes, I heard the dog yell in pain and I simply prayed.
In America, I would have gone to the dog and called someone. I had no idea what to do in Georgia, so I simply prayed and hoped it wouldn’t suffer for too much longer. On a positive note, Georgia is trying to take care of its stray dogs as much as they can. Nearly all of the stray dogs have received rabies shots and it is indicated by a tag on their ear. Also, many people feed these dogs with bread or scraps of food. There is still hope in this world.
