Becoming a Gavazeli

I have now lived in Gavazi for two months. For the most part, daily life in the village is a little slow on the go. But that isn't to say that I haven't been learning new things, meeting new people, and gaining interesting experiences.

Here's the day-to-day standard:

During the summer (and kinda sorta now) I'd wake up every morning and run. This is really really weird for all my neighbors. When you run here, the first thought for bystanders is "What is that weirdo running from?" Often times I get stopped by old men giving me workout advice, curious citizens of Gavazi wondering who I am and what I'm doing here, and concerned bebias (grandmothers) insisting that I sit and rest with them (the opposite of what I want to do when I'm working out). I also get offered rides from people. Not in a sketchy way, like you'd automatically think in the US, but in a helpful neighborly way. In the village if you're running somewhere, it must be urgent, so people in cars offer rides to get you to your destination faster... if only hitching rides burnt as much calories as running did. One of the coolest things about this habit is that I made a name for myself. I am now known as not only 'the Amerikeli' but now as 'the Amerikeli sportsmeni'. Sportsmeni = sport's man = athlete. Not very many people in my village have that title, and I'm pretty sure no other women carry it. Whenever I'm introduced to a new person, they have already heard about me as the sportsmeni, and that's a nice little ego boost (even if I have been slacking in that department lately).

Randomly placed picture of my neighbors Tonike and Piruse (aren't they cute?!) 

Another random picture of my host brother's (Vano's) birthday supra on my first night in Gavazi

this is the driveway to our house 

During the afternoon in the Summer it's very hot and absolutely no one is out and about. There were a few times I'd venture to a nearby lake (Ilia's Tba - 'tba' means lake in Georgian) with my sister and her friends. Unfortunately this outing is generally hit or miss... well more like it was a hit once. I always want to go to the lake when it's daytime, hot, the sun is out, and a swim in cold water would be refreshing. All of the Georgians like to go when the sun is setting and it's cooler (too cold to swim for me).
The first time I went with my sister I awkwardly swam alone while she sat and sunburned on the shore... that's when I learned that the girls never go to the lake with the intention of swimming. They just go to chat with boys and hang out and people watch (a common Georgian youth pastime is watching one another).

Nice facilities and scenery at Ilia's Tba

The second time I went was the one success, and even still, slightly awkward... plus that day, disaster struck. We went with three of my sister's guy friends. Again, my sister did not come to the lake to swim, so I had to swim with three Georgian guys... wouldn't be weird in the states, but here it is. I still had a good time though, and got in the swim fix. The disaster was in the form of my camera dying. My 'waterproof' camera ironically met it's match in a lake. I guess it was just it's time to go, but it had a good run. That camera saw Spring Break Cruises to the Bahamas, Mexico, Belize, the wondrous Iguazu Falls, the beaches of Punta del Este in Uruguay, and of course numerous Gainesville pool parties... but Georgia was just too much to handle. The running joke amongst PC Georgia volunteers is that nice things come here to die. I hope this doesn't continue to prove to be true.

My swimming companions: Patara (little) Giorgi, Giga, and Didi (big) Giorgi 

Did I mention that 2 out of 3 Georgian males are named Giorgi? Fact.

RIP camera, last photo taken: 

All the other times we went was later in the evening and we literally went to the lack to walk back and forth, talk some with friends, and sit and look at one another. I haven't really learned to appreciate this form of entertainment yet, but give me a year, maybe I'll relate then.

Nighttime in the village is when everyone goes out to socialize. The older women all go out into the street and sit on benches and gossip and giggle. All the kids and teens dress nice, buy sunflower seeds to snack on, and go to the maghazia (store) to hang out, chat, and of course look at each other. I would do this for some time, but this usually started around 10pm, which is dangerously close to my bedtime. (Have I mentioned that I've adopted the schedule of an old person?) Well I have. It's the only way I could exercise since it's so hot during the day and unsafe to run at night.

I'll go into further detail later on, but here's a little taste of some of the new experiences I've had these past two months:
- learned how to make wine (beginning stages only), pickles, kinkhali, khatchapuri, churchkhela, cakes,          
  etc.
- witnessed a chicken lay an egg (looked like a pearl being pooped)
- argued with a Russian police officer (he couldn't believe I could run for 10km- didn't even bother
  trying to tell him about my half marathon)
- lost the need for an alarm clock - because, lucky me, the rooster lives outside my window
- camped out without running water, electricity, or cell service for a week
- learned that what I thought were yaks are actually water buffalo (My village has water buffalo!)
- heard what it sounds like when cats have sex (spoiler alert: it sounds like they're dying)
- swam in the Black Sea
- saw a waterfall
- tasted grapes that actually taste like 'grape flavor' (which I thought was a hoax for all this time)
- felt my first earthquake!!! (5.2 richter scale- no damage, but definitely wobbly on the legs)
- saw a pig being slaughtered (I thought I'd be more interested than disturbed... but I was wrong)
- ran my own 3-day English camp
- danced with my future students (jury's still out as to whether that was a good choice or not)
- started my first job as an English teacher :)

So yes, village life is slow, and sometimes (debatably often times) boring, BUT there are so many things that I can see and experience here that I wouldn't get in a larger town or city. There is a beautiful simplicity to life here, where so much depends on how you interact with the land and the people. While the next two years will be challenging, they will be valuable. This may be the only time in my life when I'm separated from the world of convenience I know in the States. I am learning to respect the work it takes to feed people, the friendships found in neighbors, and how to make the most out of what you have.

P.S.
In case you're panicking about a lack of visual stimulation in future blog posts, DON'T PANIC. I am still able to take some pictures of things around the village and at my house on my iPad. I'm also working on getting a replacement camera.