Around the World with A Book In My Hand: 2015

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Karma sometimes works in your favor....

For those of you who wondered, yes, I did finally make it home late Sunday night. I'm writing this on Wednesday because I have been busy getting reacquainted with my family and try to pick up the pieces of life from while I was gone.

Getting home was a bit of an adventure. When I got to the airport on Sunday morning, after a very short night, there was a problem. I had a ticket from Tbilisi to Munich, but it was unclear if I was going to get home from there. After twenty minutes of working with the folks in Tbilisi, they told me I would have to work it out with the United folks in Munich and sent me on my way to the plane.

Although we were all a bit nervous, the plane trip went fine. My experience in Munich was less pleasant, involving several ticketing agents, phone calls, security lines and even a tear or two on my part, a combination of being exceptionally tired and worried about finally getting home. I finally had an aisle seat for the long trip home and began the long wait until our plane would depart. Amanda, Brian, Josh and I were a bit giddy at this point and when we found out the Kindereggs we were going to bring home would bring massive fines akin to bringing crack into the USA, we began gleefully opening them up and finding the toys inside and handing them out to the children gathered at the gate.

Finally, my boarding group was announced. I got into line and began comparing notes with another young woman who was also traveling home from a medical conference to Nebraska. We compared tickets and noted we both had the same seat. I was SURE that a mistake had been made and that I was going to be stuck in Munich as my friends departed. Near tears, I got to the front of the line and presented my ticket, pointing out to the ticket agent that we had the same seat. No problem, she said, I had been upgraded, along with Brian and Josh, to BUSINESS CLASS. (Amanda, in some horrible twist of fate, was still stuck in Economy).

If you have never had the joy of intercontinental travel in business class, you are in for a treat. I have never been treated so well in my life. Plenty of room to stretch out, constant food and drink (all for free), large personal movie/tv screen and even extra room and toiletries in the restroom. It was heaven in the skies, possibly the best flight I have ever been on (and I don't particularly like to fly). My friend Deb had told me about the wonderfulness of business class, but she didn't do it justice. I had real silverware and an actual menu of choices for my food. Hot towels to begin and end the flight and a little bag of toiletries that I could use to make my flight more comfortable. Flight attendants were at my beck and call at any given moment and I was treated like royalty. I'm not sure I can ever fly coach again.

When we landed in Chicago, we spent quite a bit of time in line at customs/immigration, but breezed through customs with no problems. When I went through security to get to my flight to Omaha, I even got into the express line that didn't require removing my computer or shoes. Finally, after all of the stress it took to get to the US, everything was working in my favor. Karma, which earlier that day, seemed to be trying to get some retribution, was on my side.

Karma, however, can also be a fickle friend. My flight to Omaha was delayed several times and finally had to move gates. I got home much later than I had intended, but I did get home. Safe, sound, and with my family ready to greet me.

It is weird to be back home. I sometimes wake in the middle of the night and I have to take a minute to figure out where I am. I want to be up in the middle of the night and nap in the afternoon. We didn't sleep much between Friday morning and Sunday night and I'm suffering from sleep deprivation, but I am so glad to be home, refereeing the children's disagreements and seeing that the dishwasher is finally fixed and the shed installed.

Home is a good place to be!

When Life Gives You Lemons, Add them to the Tea in Your Turkish Bath!

(This post is from Saturday March 28, but didn't get posted until later. I'm jetlagged and on spring break.....)

I was supposed to be home in the loving arms of my family tonight. Instead I'm in a Holiday Inn with one of my colleagues, taking a short nap before heading to the airport to try to get out of Tbilisi again. I could go into the problems we encountered this morning, boarding a plane only to find out that one engine wouldn't work and was sparking, arguing with the airline about how to get me home (No, I WILL NOT GO THROUGH ISTANBUL AND QATAR and spend more than 48 hours traveling alone), or the frustration of not being able to leave when I had planned, but I won't. Today wasn't a bad day, it was an incredible blessing instead.

When we realized that we weren't going to go home today (Lufthansa only has one flight in and one flight out per day), an entire day opened up to us--a day to explore without schedules, without obligatory meetings or stops. A day to do whatever we wanted to do. So, what did we decide to do? Go to the Turkish/Georgian baths!

We had seen them the first day we arrived but there was never enough time to get to them. They are ancient--as a matter of fact, the hot sulfur baths are supposedly the reason for the settling of Tbilisi, whose name is related to the Georgian word for warm (თბილი, pronounced t’bili). According to legend King Vakhtang Gorgasali (r. 447-502) went hunting in the heavily wooded region with a falcon. The king's falcon caught a pheasant, but both birds fell into a nearby hot spring and died. King Vakhtang was so impressed with the discovery that he decided to build a city on this location. (source: Wikipedia) This legend has since been discounted by archaeologists, but is still a fascinating story.

We arranged a taxi to take us to the baths, not really knowing what to expect. We went to one bath, where it was for couples only, certainly not for a mixed sex group of ten. So, we headed to old number five. (Apparently the Russians also liked number five...see below for what they labeled it) And, yes, for those old enough to remember Short Circuit, I did have a "Number Five is ALIVE!" moment. My colleagues started singing Mambo Number Five...

The baths, to begin with, are beautiful. They are hundreds of years old. They are intricate mosaics with a cold sulfur bath, warm sulfur bath, massage tables made of stone and a sauna. You alternate between the hot and cold baths, designed to open up your pores and skin. It really is a different feeling, putting yourself into alternating hot and cold water, the tingling like nothing I have ever known. We also had a two-part massage. One part was a giant loofaing of the body with an astringent. The Azerbajani woman scrubbed so hard on every part of the body that layers of dead skin just rolled off. The second part of the massage involved a soapy lotion massage that removed every bit of stress from the body (which we definitely needed after the day we had dealing with the airlines). Those women were truly miracle workers. I have never been so soft or so relaxed in my life!

Truly, baths are an ancient tradition, cited in historical texts, but we don't experience them today in our modern culture. We really should. They are also not for the very modest. We had separate men's and women's baths because the baths are experienced in total nudity, as is tradition.

There is something about being naked with people that you don't know well that adds a layer of bonding. It is easy to share deep secrets, to talk about the important things in life, to really be honest about who you are and who you hope to be. I think that the ancients were on to something with their public bath houses. They understood the need to have a place where life stopped for a bit, a place where there was nothing that needed doing, where people could have a chance to form a community, especially in gender-specific groups. Women and men don't have those spaces in our culture on a regular basis--as a matter of fact we have worked hard to eradicate them. I am beginning to wonder if that is a loss. In the baths, we were all equal, some of us with more wrinkles and life experiences, but all women sharing a common experience. The men also reported it as a similar experience, stating that the world would have fewer problems if we all just took some sulfur baths.

I already felt bonded with my colleagues, but this experience we shared was truly an experience that brings people together. We have friends and then we have "Turkish bath friends. " We all need more Turkish bath friends, people who have seen you at your most basic and love you anyway. People who will be there whenever you need them and who, when life gives you lemons, will sit with you and sip tea after your bath--with lemons, of course.

The Last Supper

(This post was also written last Friday, but didn't get posted on time--apparently I got a bit off)

Okay, a bit hyperbolic, but it is Lent, and we are in a heavily Christian country, so bear with me.
It was time for us all to enjoy one last family meal and Eka, in her amazing ability to find just the right place, had us eating in the Hotel Citadel, which is perched on the side of a hill on the way to a fortress overlooking Tbilisi. The friendship and food flowed and conversations were deep. It was sad, in a way, to realize that tomorrow we shall separate into the unknown and the fates, if we are to believe the stories, will determine if we will see each other again. Much like the biblical Last Supper, important ideas were shared and it was a time of great reflection before the trials ahead. We ate bread, drank the wine and shared a last time of companionship. Lots of laughter and lots of toasts to so many things we have seen and done over the last two weeks. Afterwards, we climbed to the top of the fortress, saw the really huge statue of Mother Georgia and then took a type of gondola ride down the the bottom of the valley and walked home through the rather quiet streets of Tbilisi. It was the perfect evening to end a really life-altering trip.

The view of the city from where we had dinner was spectacular!

This is Brian. He is a really unique person--exmilitary, physics teacher from the southside of Chicago. Without him, I think I would still be stuck in Chicago. His ability to make the best of a bad situation is truly inspirational. I also think it is slightly amusing that at the top of this huge fortress in the middle of Georgia, you can get a Coke. The universal drink!

Mark and James are twins, trying to get a good photo.

The Mother Georgia statue. She has a large sword and wine. You know, so she's prepared for anything. Good time or bad, she's ready!

A Glockenspiel. In the middle of Tbilisi on a rather random street. Because, apparently, that is how they roll here. We started in Munich with one and finished in Tbilisi with one. I don't know what that says about the universalness of the human spirit, but it does tell me that people do love a good moving clock!

A few random pictures from today... Below is the walk/don't walk signal, which actually has a person moving on it when it is time to walk.

We went to the Georgian National Museum where we saw artifacts from 18th century BCE. That stuff was old. However, just like our students, several of us got bored with the tour guide and started wandering off. Josh decided to be the alternate tour guide and made up very interesting stories about what all the artifacts really were. We really aren't that much more grown up than our kids are.

And this sign cracks me up. Seriously, there are so many squat toilets in this country that they do have to explain how to use a regular flush toilet.

Home tomorrow, gang!

The Art of the Deal

(This post was created last Friday, but due to travel it also did not get posted on time)

We are back in Tbilisi again and hail, hail, the gang is all back together. It seems like there aren't enough hours in the day to share all of the stories of our adventures, from the never ending supras, to learning to cook, to how all of the schools operated and the students and teachers we have met. I'm not ready for this adventure to end quite yet and I am certainly not excited about leaving these new friends who are exponentially closer to me than many people, yet whom I feel like I have barely begun to know.

The most fun part about Tbilisi this time has been the shopping. We can't come home without stuff to prove that we had a good time, right? It would be downright UNAMERICAN. I started at Goodwill, which isn't exactly like it is in the United States. It is a type of grocery store. We found this one on the way back from Batumi. I'm not sure why it is called Goodwill, but I don't think it will be sponsoring any charity work today. The bear just creeped me out...

Much of our shopping took place on the streets, where every day is a flea market/art sale. One of the best places to buy art is on the street. This man makes oil paintings that are just amazing for $15-$30. He paints right there and you can watch him make your creation.

I thought he should meet our art.

The thing about buying on the street, though, is that everything can be had for the right price. Prices are very negotiable and you can get the most amazing things for very little money. My friend Brian got a brass cigarette case negotiated down from over $100 to less than $50. It had Lenin on the front of it and was truly a work of art. I bought this hat for Robbie, who adores hats. A genuine Russian army hat for him!

I like the mindset of the deal--that everything can be had if you just find the middle ground. So often in life, we get stuck in our own positions, finding that we can't give a little because if we give a little now, what is going to stop the slippery slope of giving too much? We also pride ourselves in holding true to our values and ideals, no matter what the reality, part of our sense of independence and rugged individualism. What if we spent more time in the art of the deal and less time trying to force others into coming to our side? What if our government was more focused on finding middle ground than proving the other guy was wrong?

There is certainly something to be said for the art of the deal, of finding a place where everyone gave a little, but got some of what they needed. As I begin to head back to America, I want to work more on compromise and see where it leads.

Leaving Batumi and the friends we have made.

(This post was written last Thursday March 26, but due to travel, it did not get posted then)

Today was my last morning in Batumi. Following a quick breakfast in the beautiful dining room of Hotel Elegant (I highly recommend staying there if you are ever in the city), I decided to take one last stroll along the boardwalk and enjoy a finally sunny day.

Here some older men play volleyball in the park.

Monster and I found some public art to hang out with. I love the fact that, despite the cultural bans against LGBT in Georgia, the figures are gender neutral. They can and do represent everyone and their desire to love another human, such a central focus in Georgian culture. The fact that it is on a rocky beach where you can't see the other side of the water also gives it so much more meaning. I love some public art!

Below is a picture is of one of the most unique things I found in Georgia. Wine is so central to the culture that EVERYONE makes it, including apartment dwellers. They root the vine on the street and train it to go up to the balconies of the apartments so that everyone can enjoy wine (although you can't enter it in wine competitions because apparently it is inferior--I didn't have any, but I can't believe Georgians make bad wine). Also, I love these little chess pieces that line the street to protect buildings and pedestrians from the crazy drivers in this town. I keep getting songs from the musical Chess going through my head when I see them.

There is so much construction going on in Batumi--so much hope for the future.

If you look far enough this way, you can see Turkey. It seems impossible to be this close to another country when you live in Nebraska, which is far away from any other country.

I love these translated instructions. The words may be a little off, but the idea is certainly clear!

I have been invited back to Batumi to hang with my new friends. I don't know what the future holds, but certainly Batumi and the people of this incredible city have a hold on my heart. I would love to come back!

Last night, my friends hosted a dinner in our honor. This was maybe 1/3 of the food. As usual, Mama Shio was explaining an important concept to us all. I wish I spoke more Georgian!

This is my cohort, Pete Clark from California and Marina, the Georgian language teacher. They are planning future adventures together. Marina is an amazing teacher. She certainly challenges her students and their thinking!

Pete, Nino's mom (who cooked for us), Nino, Marina, the neighbor from downstairs and Inez, the Russian teacher. I haven't mentioned Inez before, but she was one of the most loving and funny people I met in Georgia. She has the biggest heart and took us right into her family. If I can be half of the person she is, I will be definitely on the right track.

I can't say enough about our host Nino. She has dedicated her life to teaching and students. Everything she does is focused towards education, from teaching at University, to making contacts at Teacher House, to finding new ways to enliven her teaching, she is an inspiration to teachers everywhere. Her kindness, generosity of spirit, compassion for others and quest for knowledge are truly a blessing to me. She is the kind of teacher everyone should have once in their lives, a spark that ignites the desire to learn and explore your world. She has taught me so much that I can't even put into words at this point, some about teaching, but more about faith and humanity. Her devotion to church and school are so passionate that it is almost contagious. Thank you, Nino, for being so willing to open your home and heart to us!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Saying "Goodbye" doesn't mean forever...

Do you remember that last day of summer camp? You know, the one filled with all of the group activities but a sense of melancholy that this was all ending just lingered in the background. Everywhere you went, you had the feeling that this was the LAST time you were going to do this. The last swim in the pool, the last campfire, the last sing-along, the last time you were going up this particularly hard hill on your hike.

Today felt like that to me.

Although we only arrived last Thursday, it seems like forever that we have been here. I've become accustomed to the cobblestone streets, uneven under my feet, but decorative and beautiful. I've learned now to really look both ways when crossing the street, even a one-way street. I can use the complicated stair structure at St. Andrews to find any room in the building. I know when Mama Shoo plays with his beard, he is thinking a profound thought about the work they do here and I should listen. To quote Into the Woods "I know things now, many valuable things that I never knew before..."

Today was the last day that I would spend with these wonderful people. The last time I would mime English words to help students understand "fat, fatter and fattest" The last time I would be mobbed in the hallway for a hug or a picture with "the Americans," the last time I would hear the shy "hello" or "how are you" from students who had never used those words to communicate before, just knowing them as an academic exercise in a class. So many lasts in a place that I experienced so many firsts. My first true supra, my first time teaching students English when I was the one who needed to learn their language, my first experience in seeing REALLY old stuff, my first experience with traffic laws that seem to be optional, my first experience in finding a place without a map or GPS (it involves rolling down windows a lot and asking total strangers where to find something), my first visit to the Black Sea or a rocky beach. So many firsts and so much still to learn.

Tonight we had a dinner with Mama Shoo and some teachers from the school at Nino's house (she is our host teacher) and it was delightful. Full of laughter (especially about the sign in English downtown that says a restaurant will feed you, give you wine and "sleep with you" in its attached hotel), stories of childhood in an era gone by, stories of students(the universal language of teachers everywhere), and toasts to everyone and anything we could think of. It was like a hundred dinners I've attended over the years at friend's houses, during the holidays--people getting together to share their humanity, their stories, their lives.

So, although I have said "Goodbye" to these wonderful souls, it will not be forever. They will live in my heart. I have discovered one basic lesson during my time here in Batumi. Although the Georgian people may not have as many computers or shining new classrooms or any of a million things we are so used to in American schools, they do have the most basic thing they need. As one dinner guest said last night, "The one thing in life that is important is love." Love, my dear friends, they certainly have in abundance. And to quote an old song by the Carpenters, "Love will keep us together."

If not in body, certainly in mind.

And now on to the pictures!

These are of the docks at Batumi. It is a major shipping port for Georgia and the sea is how many here make their livelihood.

This statue is of Ali and Nino, a famous pair in Georgian literature. At night it lights up and the statues move apart and together. Check out my picture below and then go to YouTube to find video of them moving. Truly remarkable!

A very old church in the center of Batumi. I would have taken pictures, but we were summoned to the bishop's house early..which kinda felt like being sent to the principal's office early...were we in trouble? Turns out...no!

Here is the bishop's house. We had a very nice reception with him where we discussed issues around schooling children. He has beautiful art he has made in his house. It is nice, but he used to live HERE!