Marshutka Mondays

I’ve been trying every week to do this new thing on my blog. I would like to introduce you all to Marshutka Mondays. I have talked to my parents and a few friends about marshutkas, but most people don’t know what they are or what our lives or like on these machines. So, every Monday I will talk a little bit about marshutkas and some of the fun stories I have riding on them. So, here we go…

 

Marshutkas are typically Ford Transit vans with a bunch of seats, packed with people. They are used like buses and transport people from city to city (or even within a city). Above it a picture of a normal marshutka in Georgia. I have to point out that most of my picture are poorly taken because I felt uncomfortable taking out my camera and snapping photos with so many people around. Especially since a lot of my photos have people in them. 

Here's the front of a Ford Transit marshutka that goes from The sign on the front ბათუმი which means "Batumi" (the nearest large city). 

Some of the marshutkas, especially the ones that go across the country are Mercedes Benz Sprinters and are usually considerably larger and more comfortable than the Ford Transits. They aren't as common, though. 

                                      

Look above and you'll see some German. I haven't figured out why most of the marshutkas are secondhand from Germany, but German is written all over most of the marshutkas. I also just thought a yellow marshutka was funny. 

Here's the inside of a marshutka when it's crowded. 

The way back of the marshutka next to an old woman who kept smelling me...

 And another marshutka picture.

And the last one....

So there's Marshutka Mondays.

My Brother

In keeping with tradition I will write about another important person in my life. At this point I have covered my sisters, Mary and Catherine, my Mom, and my Dad. There is one person missing from this equation and that is my older brother, Dean. Dean is about seven-years older than I am, but as a young boy Dean would still be just like any other older brother.

I have many stories about Dean as an older brother that I love to tell people. Whether it was the day he tied me to a chair and put me outside, or when I tried to play with him and his friends with water guns (they all ganged up and got me soaked), or when I’d sit in the backseat with him and I’d randomly get one of his “leg-squishes”, or finally when we were backpacking he pushed me upside down and called me “Beetle Boy” as I tried to get up. These are all great stories that make people laugh and giggle and go “Oh… older brothers…” Then of course there are all the nicknames (Boy, Beetle Boy… most revolved around calling me “boy”). Despite many of these great stories, there was always more to our relationship than just that. He may not try to admit it, and he’ll probably cringe at the thought of it, but he was actually a pretty cool older brother.

We would gather around the computer for hours and watch Dean play “Ultima Underworld”. Oh, we spent soooo much time just watching him play and do stuff. In fact, there were times—since I wasn’t allowed to play the computer then—that I’d ask Dean if he wanted to play the computer; just so I could watch. Eventually I was allowed to play and now I routinely whoop his butt—no really, it’s not even fun for me and I have to LET him beat me a few times so he won’t stop playing. Ironically, I believe his kids are getting really good and will probably kick me butt when I return home.

I am also a bit too young to totally remember, but Dean used to take my sister and I around our house and play “Wilderness”. It was a time where we’d pretend to be some group of people who had to survive outside on our own. He’d teach us all these interesting wilderness survival stuff, too. Eventually Dean got too old to play with us and Mary and I tried—but failed—in playing alone. Actually, in our efforts she and I found a dead bird and buried a mouse. Dean went from playing “wilderness” with me to actually going INTO the wilderness.

My father, Dean, and I backpacked the entire John Muir Trail (221 miles) in 1999. Dean was always a good sport about everything—even though I’m pretty sure he would have preferred I stayed behind. Also, I was kicked out of the tent once for smelling too much like fish. Nonetheless, the pictures of the three of us on the top of Mt. Whitney are still some of my favorite pictures I have of my brother and me.

Despite Dean’s seemingly indifference he was always my favorite and my childhood hero (something he probably got sick of). He was a Boy Scout and an Eagle Scout. Therefore I went to become a Boy Scout and eventually an Eagle Scout. Dean is in the Army. I wanted to be in the Army and joined ROTC my freshman year, but was medically disqualified. A big part of the reason I’m in Peace Corps is to serve my country like Dean does. Dean wrestled, so I wrestled, too. I was never as broad as Dean (though I am 2 inches taller), and he was always MUCH stronger than I was, but I was always a slightly better technical wrestler. Didn’t matter, because he’d still beat me up or say, “Boy, I’m trained to kill people with my hands, not pin them to the ground for a second or two.” Much of who I am and grew up to be is essentially an imitation of my older brother. Sure, as I grew up more I diverged significantly, but he always provided a good example to follow. In my extended family Dean is like the most amazing person in the world. I’ve never seen grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins light up so much as when Dean enters the room.

Dean also has done some pretty cool things for me in the past. In my senior year of high school I had a big party at my house and got caught. I was grounded for 6-months, but the day before my parents got home my brother took me to the movies. Sort of an “I know you’re about to die, so let’s watch ‘The Last Samurai’”.

One of the most recent experiences I’ve had with Dean was when I went to his Ranger School Graduation (yeah, he’s an Army Ranger). Well, his wife asked me to drive with him from Columbus, Georgia to their home in Colorado Springs. I went to his graduation and then we spent two days hanging out in Fort Benning while he got signed out there. We had a lot of fun at night. We saw Zombieland, a movie he was laughing pretty hard throughout. We had a good time, and when we started driving I could see how intent he was on getting home. He missed his family. When I got tired a little outside of St. Louis he wanted to keep going. When we got snowed in (yes, it was middle of October) in the middle of Kansas (I HATE KANSAS) I’ve never seen him so upset. He wanted to just keep going, but we got blocked right on the border with Colorado.

Dean cares about his family. His wife and four (almost five) kids mean everything to him. Dean works long hours, and has been deployed for almost half of his daughter’s life. He still spends whatever time he can taking care of and providing for his family. I have always loved going to his house in Colorado for vacation, but I also look forward to the inevitability of getting sick with some kind of stomach bug when I’m there.

As Dean turns old he will always be Deano-Beano to me. He will also be Captain Dean Lyon. He’s my big brother and don’t mess with him or he’ll beat you up (but not in front of his kids). So Happy Birthday, Dean. I hope you have a great birthday and a fun year. Maybe I’ll even see you next year for your birthday.

Bittersweet

As the title suggests, today was a good day and a bad day all rolled into one large package of emotional extremes. I was running around making phone calls all day trying to get my problem worked out. I really shouldn’t go into too much detail about it, because it involves some sensitive information that I don’t really want to post on my blog. With that said, my trip back to the USA from the 22^nd of December to the 5^th of January has just had a giant wrench thrown in it. I’m a little annoyed, because there are a variety of reasons why things like this happen.

First, I blame terrorists. I mean—when in doubt—blame terrorists. They abused the system we had in place prior to 9/11 and used it to attack our country. This brought a large amount of fear to our country and we collectively decided to shut our borders a lot more. Then I blame people in the United States who have become to xenophobic that they demand the government to take action against regular people trying to visit the USA. I mean, is it right to assume that every single personal applying for a visa wants to live in the USA permanently? Sure, some do—some don’t, too. If you make it look like you’re keeping people out on purpose you’ll end up with a lot of people hating you—just a thought. When did people get so scared of foreign or different? When did people begin not trusting other human beings?

That’s all the information I’ll give at this time. I just think some of the collective decisions we make as a country actually work against us. I mean, are we working under the assumption that everyone wants to come and live permanently in the USA? I can tell you, living in a developing nation, that not everyone thinks we are good and awesome. It could be because our economy is in shambles. Or maybe the fact or politicians don’t really care too much about fixing the country. No, they listen to lobbyists who care more about themselves than the country. Some lobbyists do good things—for a while. Then eventually they earn enough sway to try and do WHATEVER they f’in want. I’m not talking Democrat or Republican. I’m talking leaders who lead to benefit only themselves and their own lives. George Washington didn’t WANT to be President. Abraham Lincoln fought a Civil War. We can’t even agree whether or not to raise taxes or cut unneeded programs. At the same time we’ve got people like Rick Perry coming in and saying our foreign aid should start at $0. What an idiot. If it started at $0 I wouldn’t have the opportunity to do my projects, which use USAID money.

That gets into my second (and more joyous) news. Get ready. Are you ready? I don’t think you’re ready. You’re really ready? Okay, fine…

I got

My

GRANT!!!!!!!!!!!

Yep!!! Once again, I won’t tell you how much money it is, but it’s more than enough to get me my fitness club! I was given a few suggestions, one of which I think will be great. One was about making ‘women only’ workout times. And another was charging a little money to make it more sustainable. The first part is a definite YES! I thought I wrote that in there, but I don’t think I emphasized it enough. As long as I get enough interests from women it will definitely go in there. The second suggestion is not going to work, though. The sports school is a part of the local municipality and are not allowed to take money for memberships fees. They said it may be changed in the future, but for now the municipality of Keda will take monetary responsibility in the future.

It should take a few weeks to get the money, but in the meantime I’ll be making phone calls and trying to figure everything out and making final touches (but not signing anything) on the ordering of equipment and the planning of my project.

Honestly though, even getting the grant isn’t making up for the horrible part of my day…

DONE

For better or for worse my grants are in. The past month (and really week) I've been running around trying to figure out the finishing touches on my grants. I wrote finished two last night. One was for my fitness club and the other was for an English Resource Center. I sent my fitness club to a few friends to look over, and AFTER I e-mailed my final copy my friend told me there were a few typos and grammatical mistakes made that she fixed... Ugh. Hopefully the SPA Committee won't notice those... Well, I guess they will now that they are reading my blog.

The other grant I wrote was really short, and it was with another organization. My friend contacted me and told me there was this opportunity, but I had to write the grant in one day. Soooo, the same day I'm trying to get one grant signed, stamped, dated, and edited I was writing a second, completely different one. I certainly feel like my Dad now, and understand why he'd always get grumpy whenever we bothered him while he had to write these things. The thing is, if you take your mind off the grant for too long you lose your place and then start writing something totally incoherent. So, sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have asked you to fix my computer when you were writing your grants.

What are the chances of these grants going through? I don't know honestly. I was told there's quite a few grants going in this time, and the competition for the money will be pretty high. All we can do is hope I did it all right and my project shows the needs of our community. I met again with the director of the sports school and showed him pictures of all the equipment I am trying to buy. He is REALLY excited. I'd be so sad if we didn't get it, because he would be devastated. As for the Resource Center... Well, it's something I've always wanted to do, but I never felt like I had anyone to work with on it. My host father was really helping me with the fitness club (unfortunately he's in Ukraine selling persimmons), and he has been asking me the past 5 months "Any word on the Fitness Club?"

This project is really my defining moment as a Peace Corps Volunteer. All the work I do at school and the University are things that I can feel happy and moderately proud of... but all the tools were already there for me to work it out. The fitness club... this is my creation. This is something I helped find with the help of community members, and it's been a part of me for almost 9 months--that pretty much makes it my baby. I am trying to remain realistic, but I'm hoping for the best, and really looking forward to what the future may hold here.

In other notes... I got more money to buy blackboards. I'll probably be aiming for 7 more. Most will be going to a village school up the road from Keda. Maybe one or two will stay in Keda.

I really wanted to save this for my last paragraph. This is a THANK YOU to my friends and family who helped me with donations. With your help we raised over $1000 for the project. $1000!!!!!! I have to thank you all, and I already have planned exactly what the money will buy. The project still isn't closed, and you can continue contributing to the project until it reaches $1800 or I close it (which will happen if I get the other grant). I honestly haven't thought about what I'd do if I don't get the grant. What would happen to the $1000? I suppose I'd have to find a way to either return the money or use it on another project? I'm not sure how that works.

Some of you have also asked about the safety of Wide Awake. Wide Awake is COMPLETELY 100% SAFE. Right now they are still in their testing phase, and they are waiting to renew the security subscription until they switch over to their new system. Stay tuned, too, because I will be adding more projects to the Wide Awake site--projects that will be considerably smaller, but nonetheless critical to my community's need.

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Grants, Grants, and Grants

It's the moment of truth everybody...

On Monday I turn in my Small Projects Assistance (SPA) grant to Peace Corps. From there it is reviewed by a committee of other Volunteers who will determine whether or not I will receive Peace Corps funding for my fitness club. If I get the funds I will be in fat city. I have a substantial community contribution and you have all been awesome--or I've been annoying--enough to get $1000 from Wide Awake for this project. I won't give the total amount of the project or anything else, but I do want to thank all of you who donated. Just thought I'd point out that I lowered to amount asked for to 1800. Please, if you can continue donating and help us out some more. If I get the grant I will likely close out the donations very quickly so I can get the money. If I get this grant I won't need any more donation (for this project).

Wide Awake is a great place to do business. I got a few e-mails from friends and family that warned it seemed sketchy because their security certificate was expired or because of terms in the contract (which are things they are bound by law to do). I have contacted them about all these and I am happy to say that they ARE safe. So, don't be scared. I will be looking at doing some more projects. One in particular is to make an English Resource Room in my school, or somewhere in Keda that everyone can use. What does this entail?

1) Desk
2) Chairs
3) Computer
4) CD Player
5) English textbooks
6) English reader books with CDs
7) Blackboard
8) Shelf
9) Posters
10) Projector

I'm sure there will be other things, but this would be good for now. I haven't done much research in costs, but I'll do that soon and then start posting donations on Wide Awake. I have also thought about replacing ALL the chalkboards at my school (they are all in bad shape).

One thing at a time though... Let's get this done!!!!!!!!!!!

It's Pechi Time

I’d like to introduce you to my best friend. It only comes out from October to April; it’s large, and HOT! PCVs gather around these fine contraptions when we aren’t huddled in our sleeping bags during winter. In Russian this is a “pech(i)” (the extra “I” is how Georgians put it in nominative case, I am “Tomi”), but “pechka” is colloquial (thanks to my Ukrainian girlfriend for the clarifications), in Georgian it is “ghumeli”, but I usually say “pech(i)”. There aren’t many places (even in large cities) that have central heating in Georgia, and Keda is no different (though I have heard rumors that it’s coming soon). So these wood stoves give us heat during winter. The big problem with them is they only heat one room, which means I will spend the next 6 months huddled in this room trying to stay warm. The upside is a pechi is a great trash-bin.

So, this is our pechi. Not much to look at, but it is a lot of fun. There really is nothing better than coming home from school, lighting the pechi and falling asleep in a room well heated by it’s warmth. These ugly, rusty, dangerous devices certainly make me feel like I’m in Peace Corps. They are also pretty fun to take care of. I mean, I love fire, and so the pechi is a lot of fun to play with and sometimes I’ll just sit there and stare at the fire.

I would really love to have this little contraption in my room. I hate waking up in the morning and having to get dressed and everything when it’s SO cold. Last winter I’d wake up and immediately run to the pechi room (my host father wake up early to light it). Soon I’ll have to get my sleeping bag out, too. I’m not looking forward to that. So for the next 6 months I’ll be in this room or in my sleeping bag.

So, next time you walk into you centrally heated house. Or, wake up and walk around barefoot and half naked around your house in the winter please say “thank you” to my pechi for at least keeping me warm in one room.

*Edit* I should also point out how awesome it is to put clean clothes under the pechi and come out of the shower to warm shirts and underwear. It's like taking something straight out of the dryer... Pechi Style