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.”
For this Thanksgiving edition, I’ve asked my friend and fellow PCV Phil to write a guest blog post. Enjoy his post and my pictures to accompany his writing 🙂 – Rawan
Let me tell you about PC Georgia G16 Extension to the Next Dimension Friendsgiving 2018 Rach’ Out with your Crotch Out, our snowy northbound excursion! Do you want to hear about our marshutka struggling up a craggy mountainside? Battening down the hatches against the frosty weather with a village host as we share the latest news, cooking local fowl and transplanting our American holiday customs into the far-flung and hoary Caucuses?
Couldn’t find a place to do it.
All the G16 Extended (3rd Year) Peace Corps Volunteers, from left to right: Ainsley, Justin, Phil, Susan, and Rawan
Winter excursion season usually starts December 8th when the skiing opens, but we can’t help it. Our schedule is what it is. We tried booking three different places through Airbnb in Oni, Nikortsminda, and, forgoing Racha altogether, Bakuriani to the south. In all three instances we learned a day after booking that the host either wasn’t checking their email, had booked another guest without taking down their posting, or hadn’t gotten their pad functional yet, sincerest-apologies-come back-next-week.
Booking.com found us an apartment in the center of Bakuriani, and then the evening before we were due there our man called to say that there was no water at his digs. “That gonna be a problem?”
Like Jonah in the belly of the whale, we can take a hint. So, we stayed put in Rawan and Justin’s home and cooked a Thanksgiving spread so lavish it shames us. Orange chicken; mashed potatoes; pumpkin gnocchi; butternut squash soup; stuffing; glazed carrots; gravy; and brownies.
Croutons, Butternut Squash Soup, Mashed Potatoes, Justin’s Orange Chicken, Gravy, Glazed Carrots, Pumpkin Gnocchi, two sets of Brownies, Stuffing, Apple Crumble, and Rice!
Thanksgiving is a good time to put aside this jocular self-pity and acknowledge that we as Americans and Peace Corps Volunteers have oodles to be thankful for. I’m sure if our stateside countrymen knew what a blast the Peace Corps is, they’d run – not walk – to sign up, leaving their front doors open and the kettle still on.
Every day we get to partner with those Georgians who are doing the essential work of developing their country and its institutions. All the while we upload into our consciousness several lifetimes’ worth of lessons, inspiration and formative experience that we shall not fully grasp and appreciate until years down the road.
Georgia is a fascinating country with rare natural beauty and extremely likable people. We are fortunate to work and live in such a place, and that we have this time to explore it together.
For explore we did, albeit in shorter range than intended. After sleeping off the chow, Saturday we ventured a short way uphill to see the historical double-act of Motsameta and Gelati Monasteries.
Crashing a wedding (or five) at Motsameta!
Motsameta sits atop a cliff jutting out over a gorge, dropping on three sides, with a fine view of the Tskaltsitela River below. The church contains a shrine to the bones of two 8th century Georgian martyrs, the brothers Davit and Konstantin Mkheidze, local dukes who were tortured and executed by Muslim invaders for refusing to convert. There were several weddings in progress when we visited, and while we waited to enter the chapel where the ceremonies were underway and the holy relics housed, we played with the monks’ well, into which visitors had thrown coins despite an injunction not to do so.
Gelati
Gelati was less crowded and under construction. It was founded in 1106 by David IV, known by the epithet Aghmashenebeli – “The Builder”. He is a heroic figure in Georgian medieval history, under whose reign Georgia came to dominate the Caucasus. He is buried at this site under a gate stripped as a prize from the city of Ganja in Azerbaijan by David’s son Demetrius.
Courtyard of Gelati
We capped off the evening at the old PCV-standby Praha, to show our eastern companion some damn fine bean-bread. It is a testament to the excellence and quality-depth of our post that even when Plans A-through-D disintegrate, E, F, G, and H satisfy. Count your blessings and Happy Thanksgiving!
When I signed up for the Peace Corps, I full well knew that I would miss out on key life events of my friends and family. Since the events were unknown when I left, I did not realize the true value of what they were. I’ve been gone nearly two years and I have missed out on weddings, engagements, births, and deaths. The closer the friendship is, the harder it is to miss. Life moves on, regardless if I’m there or not. A hard fact of life.
A few days ago, I received a wedding invitation from a dear friend of mine, Lauren. Within the first few weeks of PST, Lauren messaged me and told me that she got engaged. I was incredibly excited for her and was so happy to hear the news. Justin and I met Lauren on our very first day during our Hong Kong exchange. Lauren is from Australia and she was also an exchange student the same semester as us. Since the first day, we were inseparable. I think there were only 3 days that I did not either speak or saw Lauren the entire 6 months we lived in Hong Kong. One year after Hong Kong, Lauren spent Christmas with my family in California.
Justin (left), Lauren (center), ad me (right) during our first dinner in Hong Kong
Eight years later, we still keep in touch and keep each other in the loop for any big events. So here I am, staring at her beautiful wedding invitation. I have deep sinking gut feeling in my stomach. I know that I cannot go. My first thought was, “If I was still at my old job, I would have bought my plane ticket and looking at hotels right now.” But I’m not at my old job. I am here in Georgia. If I sound a bit bitter, I am. I hate missing out on these things, but this it the price that I have to pay. These are the down moments in Peace Corps. The worst part is, this particular “down” moment has nothing to do with my service or even Georgia.
Me (left) and Lauren (right) having a girls night while studying abroad in Hong Kong!
This is not the first time I felt this way. Remember how I spent Thanksgiving early with my friends on a winery? If you did not read my Thanksgiving experience, here is the post. On that Sunday morning of our departure, I woke up to a few messages on my Facebook. One of my oldest and closest friends, Nikki, got engaged. She sent me a picture of her engagement ring, with the caption, “Look what happened Rawan! :)” Then immediately after, “we tried calling you.”
Me (right) and Nikki (left)- a picture of us during our senior year in High School at one of the school dances.
My other friend, Nicole, was also sending me pictures of the surprise engagement. Yes, I have two close friends with the same name. One is Nikki and the other is Nicole- it is actually not confusing. Nicole’s caption was, “She wanted to Facetime you.” Then, the tears rolled down my eyes. My phone had died during our Thanksgiving. The engagement happened in the middle of the night in Georgia, but I was actually awake still celebrating Thanksgiving. It upset me that I could have virtually been there and I wasn’t. My Peace Corps friends were sitting next to me when I received the news, so they comforted me.
Nikki was one of my bridesmaids when I got married. At least 15 year of friendship and still counting…
Regardless, when I got back to site, I could not help but feel immensely homesick. I laid in bed for the better half of the evening. I just kept on thinking that I would never have wanted to miss out on Nikki’s engagement. It is true that I have not lived in my “hometown” for about 6 years. Before Peace Corps, I used to make the 8-hour drive for anything important back home. If I was super homesick, I just got in my car. The only thing I could do here, in Georgia, is make popcorn and watch a sappy movie on my laptop. Not. the. same. thing. at. all.
The only thing that makes me feel better is that distance is not a test of my real friendships. I have not seen either Lauren or Nikki in years, but here we are, still friends. Missing out on life events of friends and family is hard, but at least they are still trying to include me in their lives thousands of miles away. And that, my readers, is a wonderful thing to be grateful for.
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.
