Home

Well, here I am. For the first time in 2 years I am sitting in my family room in Plainsboro, New Jersey. It’s a weird experience, and sometimes I completely forget that I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer and everything I see and feel is just a mirage; an illusion meant to hold me over until I’m actually done. Right now the only thing that holds me on to the reality of my circumstance is the homemade Georgian wine (that he has described as “okay”) I’ve been sharing with my father. I guess it’s hard to explain, and maybe it’s just because I’m home for a little while, or maybe because it the holiday season, but being in America just feels so easy and right.

I’m not trying to say that America is #1 overall, but for me it is #1. Georgians ask a series of questions when the first meet a foreigner, and these are my typical responses:

Q: What’s your name?

A: Tom.

Q: How old are you?

A: 25.

Q: Are you married/have kids?

A: No.

Q: Why not?

A: [Random answer, and usually depends on if I want to joke around or act annoyed]

Q: Do you like Georgia/Keda?

A: Yes, I like Georgia/Keda very much, it has beautiful nature, and the air is so great.

Q: Do you like Georgians

A: Yes, they are very generous and hospitable people.

Q: Which is better America or Georgia?

A: Both are great.

There are a bunch of other questions that come before and after, but undoubtedly a foreigner will be asked which is better America or Georgia. I’ve always said both are good, and I probably always will, but to be America is my home and to me it is #1. I’ve tried to say “Hey, America is my HOME. Everything I love and care about is there.” Most people nod their head acknowledging that no matter how great a place is, home is home, and it will always be #1.

I guess all I really mean is:

IT’S GREAT TO BE HOME!

Going Home

Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow morning I board a plane in Tbilisi at 0815. I land in Kiev at 0850 (yes, the plane is THAT FAST). I wait around the airport for about four hours, and then board a plane (with an unoccupied space next to me because the US Consular Office in Kiev is a horrible place) at 1255 that lands in NYC at 1635. Pretty much this means that within 36 hours I will be eating Taco Bell and driving down the New Jersey Turnpike on my way back to my house in Plainsboro, New Jersey.

There are lots of things to do, to see, to eat, and people to hang out with. I don’t have a specific list or schedule of my days, and I no longer have a current driver’s license, so most like if you want to see me you will have to pick me up. Unfortunately, as I said above, I will be traveling one person short. I never thought that visas could be such a huge problem, and it sucks because all these rules are in place now because people in the past took advantage of the lax rules. Anyway, that’s another story.

I need Taco Bell. That’s probably one of the first things I will do after I land. After Taco Bell I probably just want to go home and hang out with my cat, Archimedes, for a while and talk with my family about all the fun and exciting things I’ve been doing. My goal is to basically gain 10 pounds in this single visit home. There are so many places I have to go, and so much food (HOAGIE HAVEN) that I have to eat that I’ll be pretty busy. I would still like for my friends to come see me and let me know when they’re free for drinks or FOOD and write me on Facebook.

I may or may not be returning to Georgia on the 5^th. There are a lot of factors at play, and a lot of things I have to consider. I would like to go to Ukraine right after, but I’m quickly running out of vacation days from Peace Corps. The airline is also being a huge pain by not letting me change my flight without paying a large amount of money. If I stop in Ukraine it could only be for three days, but something is telling me I will really need those three days. Long-distance relationships are NOT easy. I haven’t seen Ana in almost two-months, and we were really counting on this trip home, but now it may look like we won’t see each other until summer. Which… well… sucks…

Teaching Woes

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the reasons I went into teaching. I remember reading essays and studying over books in graduate school that went over many of the problems students face in school. Then I remember when Governor Chris Christie came and started tearing away at teachers to destroy the fabric of the teacher’s union. I remember telling myself, “I won’t be those teachers that get disheartened and stop trying”. Unfortunately, looking at some of my situation here in Peace Corps I have found myself in that exact situation. I am looking at some of the things I’ve done IN THE CLASSROOM, and compared it to what I wished I could do as a teacher, and let’s just say I’m far from impressed.

Peace Corps Staff as admittedly told me that they believed I had certain special abilities and skills, which is why I got this particular site. I won’t go into details, but I was excited to really get into teaching and doing everything I could for my students. I was really into it the first semester, and I tried all these new and different strategies (most of which got me strange stares from students and teachers alike), and overall I didn’t feel any change, and I was more frustrated with students who disrespected me in class than educating. Plus, I was always fighting a language barrier and butting up against the status quo. Instead of fighting against what I knew was wrong I got sucked into it myself. Now I’m stuck wondering if I’m really cut out for this whole teaching thing. Is my fancy Masters of Arts in Teaching and teaching certificate just a piece of paper?

A lot of the issues I know are language and culturally based. Some of it is the size of my classrooms. Mainly, it’s me. I haven’t put nearly enough time into lesson planning or brainstorming new ideas. Instead of focusing on teaching, which didn’t provide me with that Peace Corps “Wow” experience I turned to other things. I decided to focus my attention on the university, the fitness center, getting dictionaries, getting chalkboards. All of these things are great, but they aren’t what I originally set out to do. Not to mention that now that I spend so little time at school because I’m so busy with other things I feel like a giant failure. I’ve let myself and my students down. Then I saw a few PCVs posting this article. It’s true, I have faced a lot of failure in my time here. I have failed in studying and becoming an advanced and fluent speaker of Georgian. I’ve failed at motivating people around me to really care and work hard in school. So, instead of thinking of new approaches to my style I basically gave up and went on to something new (university and fitness club).

This has all thrown me for a bit of a loop. Should I even be a teacher? If I do become a teacher, will I end up being one of the poor teachers represented on the “Waiting for Superman” documentary? The more I learn about education back home the more I worry I could be part of the problem. If I go into teaching I feel like I’ll have a lot to learn.  I know that going forward I WILL try harder in the classroom. I will make the most of this experience and give my students something they truly deserve: a competent teacher that cares about their education.

Here’s me refusing to let me be a failure!

Nakhvamdis! (Goodbye)

Marshutka Monday Part Deuce

This is part of an e-mail my good friend, Carsten Brown, posted in an e-mail home about travelling in a marshutka. This is a really fun read and I'm sure you'll get a good laugh--especially because he's a talented and funny writer. Enjoy.

"Marshutka Pre-Flight Announcement

When traveling in Georgia, one is usually limited to three modes of transportation: taxi, train or passenger van. The passenger van tends to be the most economical form of transit, both in terms of time and cost. These trips often last hours (some as long at 8 hours) and this gives one much time to read, reflect or day-dream. I usually choose the latter-most. I have decided that if a van such as these were to become really official and take a cue from airlines, the conversation in the front seat would probably resemble this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzqdDoe8FoM&feature=related

And it's highly likely that every Georgian driver would have one of these.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl4plPGRG8o

And should the driver ever decide to include a pre-flight introduction or speech, it would closely resemble the following:

“Good morning ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Giorgi and I will be your Marshutka (passenger van) driver today. We'll be cruising at approximately 120 kph through narrow mountain passes, skirting the edges of sheer cliff faces and performing the bovine slalom with cows strategically placed in the middle of the road.

If you are feeling queasy from the overwhelming aroma of haven't-showered-in-three-weeks BO, combined with vodka-on-the-breath-of-the-gentleman-sitting-next-to-you AND the maniacal maneuvering of our driver, just scream “GAACHERET” (STOP!) and we'll pull over to the side of the cliff and let you toss your cookies.

Today's is a non-smoking flight, as indicated by the “No Smoking” sign hanging from the rear-view mirror, but this rule will be flagrantly flouted by the driver, who will smoke like a chimney for the next six hours.

If this is a summer trip, and you are feeling a little warm, opening a window for ventilation will be futile, as the other passengers will angrily close it, for fear of catching a cold...in August.

On this trip there will be no complimentary drinks, snacks or pillows. You are traveling like chattel. Adjust your expectations accordingly.

Today's in-flight meal will consist of day-old khatchapuri shoved on you, against your will, by the bebia (grandmother) sitting next to you.

If you'll kindly direct your attention to your left and right shoulders, you'll notice that the seat belt has been conveniently cut out to ease a speedy departure from the vehicle, through the windshield, in the event of a sudden stop or a cataclysmic auto-donkey pile-up.

For the Georgians aboard, please feel free to religiously cross yourselves at random and inexplicable intervals, so as to alarm the foreigners on board as much as possible.

As always, our “Clown Car” policy dictates that we'll be taking twice as many passengers as we can safely accommodate, so keep your laps (i.e. extra seats) free! Have a hazardous trip! :-)”

No Joke."

The Challenge of Age

It’s something many of us have to deal with here in Georgia. One thing I am constantly trying to fight back against is the perception that I am too young or I am not able to do anything. Many of the younger volunteers feel the same way. I was talking to my host mother today and she was telling me that I had to eat and then go to bed because I didn’t sleep until 5am last night. All I could do was laugh, because nobody has told me to “Go to bed” in ten years. She asked why I was laughing and I told her because I’m not a ten-year old and nobody has told me to go to bed. She said that here the older people can tell children when to go to bed. At this point I was a little offended and told her I wasn’t a child. So, she pulled out the age thing. But, I told her, “I’m not a child”.

So, we had a discussion about when a person goes from “boy” to “man”. Basically a man has to have a wife and child. I told her that in my opinion someone should be a man BEFORE getting married and having kids. That was the end of the conversation—it wasn’t the end of my thoughts about it. I have so many problems getting people to listen to me or take me seriously and it’s ALL because of my age. A TLG volunteer in a village near to me told me that when people in his village talk about me they always mention how young I am. Worse than being 25 is that I look like I’m 20 (if that). It’s not my education, my experiences, or what I’ve already accomplished that defines who I am; it’s my age.

When I came to Keda I was told that I would be allowed to do teacher trainings. I started working at the school and tried introducing new methodologies to my counterparts and students. I won’t go into details into this aspect, but basically I never felt like I had the respect of teachers or students. I’ve always felt like I was a good teacher, but I’ve been having problems getting people to respect me and know that I can get things done. Nobody will make a move to get teacher trainings going. I think I know why. People don’t trust the ideas of a “boy”, no matter how much education or knowledge he has. 

Nobody said Peace Corps was easy.