I have recently found myself thinking of
experiences in terms of potential status updates. I realize that’s ridiculous,
especially since I don’t have immediately, daily, or even bi-weekly access to
Facebook. However, such is life. Tonight (as I’m laying in bed with two bottles
filled with hot water to keep me warm, two jackets, leggings, sweatpants,
socks, and a hood), I decided to write them down to help me keep track of
random things throughout the week as well as countdown the remaining weeks of
my time here in Georgia (mainly, my time in the winter).
Since I have internet access once a week,
I’m going to start posting these pseudo-Facebook statuses each week so that
you, my readers (aka…mom and dad and the others they force to read this), can
follow along with me in a typical week of Georgian experiences. Congrats; feel
free to consider yourself lucky to have stumbled upon this delightful new
addition to your life.
Week 1: Week of January 23 (Yes, I’m
starting with Mondays because that’s the first day of the week for me…the first
day of school)
Monday: There’s nothing like being greeted
by my director after the holidays by signing two papers saying that I’ve
received the president’s gift of wine, champagne, chocolates, and a card with
various Georgian government buildings on the inside.
Tuesday: I know a student isn’t paying
attention when she peers at me for two minutes over her book that she’s stood
on her desk.
Wednesday: The teacher black market today
consisted of 30 toothbrushes, 30 tubes of toothpaste, hand towels, and wash
cloths; it was great watching teachers, one by one, walk over to the
English-labeled toothpastes, unscrew the tops, and taste the contents to see if
it is mint or not.
Thursday: I didn’t realize that Georgian
students use snowball fights as training to become assassins.
Friday: When a group of men buys me cake,
what are your suggestions? If I eat it, does it mean I’ll sleep with them, or
would I be better off throwing it to the ground and yelling, “I will not sell
my sexuality for a very large piece of cake!”
Saturday: A snow day in America means
cuddling up in sweatpants by the fire with a good book; a snow day in Georgia
means cuddling up in sweatpants, leggings, two shirts, a sweater, socks, and
slippers by the pechi with one of the two books I brought with me.
Sunday:Never again
will I spend at entire winter weekend with an 11-year-old; by 3:15 on Saturday,
I have reached my whining, card game playing, and attention-seeking behavior
quota.
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