tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49325348570043695272024-03-05T01:30:33.707-05:00The Lyon TalesThis is a blog dedicated to my service as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Georgia.Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-38264433379996949302013-06-22T10:21:00.004-04:002013-06-30T11:12:52.307-04:00The Last Day of School - Excitement and Anxiety<div class="MsoNormal">
When I joined Peace Corps, my number one fear was how I’d
handle change. I’ve always struggled with change. When I was four I was mad
when my mother had her hair permed; I spent hours combing my hands through her hair to make it straight,
and make her my Mom again. For those 8-months I was angry, because she didn't look like my Mom! </div>
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Even positive change can send a hammer to my heart and
feelings of anxiety and fear of loss. What am I losing exactly? Before I make
major decisions I run everything through an internal cost-benefit analysis. To
justify a significant change, I have to be both extremely unhappy and
distressed, or the change has to be so amazing I couldn’t resist. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So, last July I returned from Peace Corps, and I immediately
dealt with some reverse culture shock. I didn’t like the change, and there were
moments of my holding an empty coke bottle (once filled with my homemade wine),
because it was my host families and was written in Georgian. I didn’t want to
let it go. The unemployment didn’t help and I went through months of anxiety
and doubt. I felt I needed a new start, but I wasn’t ready for it, and I couldn’t
make it yet. I doubted being a teacher, I doubted my success in Peace Corps, and I honestly thought "Well, I better just go get a Government job". Luckily I didn't go down that road.</div>
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When I got my job at the high school, as an Instructional
Assistant, I was ecstatic, but nervous. I didn't know what to expect, and I didn't know if I was competent enough in my field to work well with students, and special needs students at that. My first day of work was great, and
each subsequent day after that was great as well. The students didn’t
cannibalize my face, so that was a good sign. I had a lot of help along the way, and it made work no longer feel like work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The reason I felt great getting out of bed in the morning
was because of my job. I loved it. The staff I worked with were AMAZING. Each
teacher had their own personality and quirks that made me think “they are the
coolest person in the world”. It took me two months, but I opened up to them
about my personal life, my love life, family, and personal history. These people were my friends and
coworkers, and we worked together as a well-oiled machine... with plenty of oil
changes along the way, of course. We played jokes on each other, we laughed, we
made decorations, we finished puzzles, we played games on our phones (that I
won). I feel like I work there forever. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That’s the problem. That’s where I hate the change. I know
this job is going to be great, but I’m also happy where I am. So, when I run
the cost-benefit analysis in my head I get mixed messages. I get “Yes! New
awesome and amazing job!” I also get “Dang! Leaving a great place!” I guess
this is where my brain has to work a bit more. I have to justify it in my brain
as the right decision; the natural progression of my life. There will be lots
of changes for me this summer (like last summer), but unlike last summer, I am
more able to handle the changes (you won’t see me running out of a Wal-Mart
with a panic attack because of the myriad of choices). <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve also enjoyed my work at the elementary school, but
their last day of school isn’t until Monday. Yesterday the class put on skits
for a visiting preschool class, and because we had an odd number of students I
got to be in one. The students were laughing and having a great time, and at
the end a group of them came up to me and said “We’re gonna miss you Mr. Lyon.” Why would anybody want to leave that? I have a video of it if anyone is interested.</div>
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Life moves on, and all we can do is move forward. I can say honestly that it's a GOOD thing I didn't get a job right away last July. It's a GOOD thing I spent that time unemployed. I've learned so much the past few months, and I've become a better educator because of it. I think it's true the way my sister-in-law told me: "You'll get a job and then realize it was all meant to be." I think it's true, and everything happens for a reason.</div>
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Mom, you can perm your hair whenever you want to; I won't be mad... Probably.</div>
Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-43558610866607115752013-06-19T20:19:00.002-04:002013-06-30T11:12:52.310-04:00Relationship Status: It's Complicated with FACEBOOK<div class="MsoNormal">
I have used Facebook since 2004. I think my university was
in the second or third tier of schools added by (then) TheFacebook; before it
opened to high schools and later the general public. People always say “I’m
going to delete my Facebook account”, but few ever do, and those who do are
often viewed as atypical or somehow socially inept. For over a year now I have
struggled with the decision to destroy my Facebook account and begin living my
life, not advertising my life, but the possible social ramifications of
deleting have weighed heavily on me for some time. My sister-in-law even said “it’s
sad, because it’s like a journal of 9 years”, but through Facebook’s archival
feature I can save all my old photos, wall posts, and messages. I recently
decided to delete my old profile and try to start again, but I feel I may have
outgrown Facebook’s usefulness, and it has become more of a waste of time than
ever before, and here are my reasons why.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I know plenty of amazing professionals with Facebook
accounts, and they always post very few things, and usually have only a handful
of friends. Every year, hundreds of people are probably fired from their work
because of an inappropriate picture or comment. I have to be hyper vigilant and
careful with my Facebook (and my blog) to make sure nothing, not even the most
mundane, can be considered offensive or unprofessional. I consider Facebook
primarily a social tool (if you want professional join LinkedIn), and therefore
it has limited professional use (we can debate this last point all day long,
too). <o:p></o:p></div>
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I believe that Facebook has been positive and negative on my
social life, but mostly negative. There are a ton of “friends” on Facebook that
I wouldn’t talk with normally, and Facebook is great for staying in touch. Here’s
the thing, we didn’t stay in touch for a reason, and by pretending we’re
besties on Facebook doesn’t do anyone any good, if it’s not true. If we’re good
friends, and we talk on Facebook, we can easily move our conversation to e-mail
or phone (I abhor texting ). Facebook is also an enormous farce. Nobody is that
happy all the time. We’re all guilty of it; hell, I’m guilty of it on my blog a
lot of the time, too, but it’s still fake. We only show our best selves on
Facebook, and I’d rather be getting to know people on a personal level and
empathize with them. I’m feel my happy moments are private, and I’ll
share them with my close friends or relatives, but not necessarily with 400
people I don’t care about. Furthermore, Facebook can destroy friendships and
relationships, just as easy as it can forge and maintain them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Human interaction and communication is so complicated, that
the digital age has failed to match our evolutionary predisposition to
non-verbal communication. Without proper communication a friendship, or
romantic relationship, for that matter, will fall to excessive personal offense
and passive-aggressiveness. A simple status update, photos, profile/cover
picture changes can set a person down a train of thought that will ultimately
crush a relationship. Since I’ve been home, I’ve made a pledge to never friend
the girl I’m dating, post pictures, or mention her on my Facebook. That’s a
personal side of me that I no longer want to share with the world, or the
majority of my Facebook friends. I have nothing to prove, and I’m not
interested in showing off anybody just to get the “Oh my God, you two are
perfect together” comments. I can and will show my love and affection in other
ways, but Facebook is not a meaningful place to forge a relationship. <o:p></o:p></div>
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For example, I remember sorority formals, the “special” soccer
field, prom, graduation, house parties, and dancing to “our song” and eating fondue
with my first girlfriend. With all successive relationships I remember the
moments we spent together (no particular order): Communiversity, a river in
Canada, monument-hopping in D.C., walking Batumi streets, the beach (and having
a bird poop on my head), laser tag, making nachos, Turkey, drinking coffee and watching CNN, working in
the library. These are the things I remember. I don’t remember anything that any
girl has ever written on my Facebook wall or messaged me. These Facebook and
internet talks are a complete waste of time, and I just don’t want that. I want
memories with touching and feeling, not words. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, and most importantly, my personal value system is
not predicated on the validation of my peers. I am not beholden to anybody but
myself, and ultimately I look myself in the mirror and find my own sense of
self-worth. I just got my dream teaching job, but I’m not quite done, either. I’m
ambitious and now I need to read and study history and psychology more thoroughly
than ever. I have continued my study of Russian and even get practice with a
funny Russian, and a somewhat mean student; I’m progressing, but there’s more
to do. Further down the line I may want to be a school principal or a superintendent,
and that means more time and education. Maybe I’ll consider founding a school in
Georgia with my friend/coworker there. We talked about it once, and who knows
what will happen if I set my mind to it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Don’t get me wrong, Facebook has some advantages. I can
communicate openly and freely with my friends and colleagues in Georgia and the
USA. It’s more convenient in making the groundwork for social events. Cultural
attitudes flow in Facebook, and I’d miss out on entire social issues and
changes. I’ll miss the news articles I see from my friends that engage everyone
in meaningful discussions on controversial issues. <o:p></o:p></div>
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That is why I decided to archive my old Facebook as a
journal and start anew. This new Facebook is a fresh start, so I wouldn’t have
to go through my old wall posts and pictures to delete unprofessional/inappropriate
comments. It’s also a way to choose who I want to be friends with, and what I
want them to see. I won’t promise that I’ll stay with Facebook, and I will very
likely delete this profile at some point, too. If you have any desire to stay
in touch you can always send me an e-mail, call, or stalk me through my blog.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Cheers.<o:p></o:p><br />
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*Edit* I should also point out that Facebook creeps me out now that I know the NSA is able to track, and that Zuckerberg even gives them information. That's not cool.</div>
Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-20509472615144005462013-06-18T21:50:00.000-04:002013-06-30T11:12:52.304-04:00Welcome BackWow, it's been a hot minute since I last wrote anything in this blog. I started two other blogs, but they didn't have the same feel as this blog, and I decided I still had some "tales" to tell. I originally deactivated my blog to hide it from the potential all-seeing eyes of Google. I have 100 posts here and I feared something written here would come off the wrong way or offend an employer or student.<br />
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After closer examination I haven't discovered too many inappropriate posts or words, and I feel this blog could be a great way for students to see me for me. It's also a great social studies teaching tool. I also believe this blog was a great resource for prospective, currents, and returned Peace Corps Volunteers. I still have some editing to do to old posts and comments, but the feel of the blog will remain the same. I want to support future Volunteers and RPCVs who find themselves struggling professionally as I did.<br />
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This has been a difficult year, but all the waiting, hoping, and disappointment has paid off ten-fold. I can now see more clearly now than ever the path I'm on, and the future isn't muffled in the dark. I'm not just making it through life, I'm finally living the life I always pictured. As a family member told me two weeks ago "You know all that waiting and disappointment was because you were just meant to be here... where you are NOW." What she meant was that I finally got my dream job. I mean my REAL dream job. I'm going to be a teacher of history and psychology at one of the best schools in the country, and arguably the best in the state. It's also up in a area that is consistently ranked as the number one community for young professionals.<br />
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I know my experience in Peace Corps was instrumental, but it wasn't the only thing. For the past semester I've been working at two schools; a high school and an elementary school. The high school position deserves special recognition. I was terrified going into it, because it's working with emotionally disturbed students with a variety of behavioral and emotional issues. I didn't know what to expect, but I learned and grew considerably. With the help of some amazing and talented staff I have found a new classroom confidence inside myself. Seriously, The students make my day, too, and I find myself dreading the end of the school year. I have so much fun at work, and it is a job I wake up excited to see everyone. I know I'm built for teaching, and I'm looking forward to my future in education.<br />
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I've had a lot of highs and lows since I've been home. I've learned a lot about myself and what I want to accomplish with my life, I learned that I'm highly resilient and flexible to changing situations. I'm a lot more hard-working than I ever thought, and after over two years my friends are still there. I'll even be a groomsman in one of my buddies' weddings. I've learned that true happiness comes from within, but that family is the most important thing. I've developed new hobbies, I've gone out, I've had fun, and been on dates. I've been happy, and sad, but mostly happy. I've missed my Peace Corps friends, but my favorite two are back in America now and I even got to see him, and I'll see my other friend in two weeks.<br />
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My last entry before this I felt disillusioned and unsure of who I was or where I was going. There are a lot more reasons to how I felt then, but fear not, world. Life after Peace Corps can be amazing and great. I'm proof to that.<br />
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<br />Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-58709101379812532082013-06-16T20:40:00.002-04:002013-06-30T11:12:52.312-04:00New Posts IncomingThe Lyon Tales are back... Await for more information....Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-27958852928921790922012-08-28T17:14:00.003-04:002019-10-11T21:37:59.696-04:00Reverse Culture Shock Is The Only Explanation<br />
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I’ve been meaning to write a new blog entry for a while. To
be honest, I haven’t really been writing in my personal journal much since I’ve
been home either. It’s been a mix of emotions and feelings trying to readjust,
and it isn’t nearly the same feeling as I thought I might have. I am sitting in
a coffee shop in downtown Princeton (Small World Coffee to those who are
interested), and I’m looking around at what I notice being the most different.
First, people are MUCH quieter, and the music is played at a level that allows
casual conversation (the two girls next to me are discussing breaking up with
one of the girls’ fiancés). Second, nobody is drinking alcohol. Third, none are
speaking Georgian or Russian. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When I walk around I notice a difference, too. In Georgia,
when you walk down the street a person going the opposite direction USUALLY
makes little attempt at avoiding ramming into you. I’m not sure why this is,
but in the USA people are a bit nicer out on the streets. In the home it is a
different story. I haven’t been to many people’s places since being home, but
nobody beats Georgian hospitality. I have yet to find a person or family who
will just drop everything to take care of a guest. I guess it has left me
occasionally awkward in the presence of others, because I’m just expecting for
a supra and a ton of wine/chacha. It is also refreshing, because all those
social demands in Georgia between host and guest left both parties extremely
exhausted. Most differences I write about are superficial, but don’t get me
wrong, there are some major readjustments being back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I guess the biggest thing I’ve noticed since coming home is
very few people care. As a teacher, I figured employers would be interested in
hearing about my experiences. They aren’t. I’m asked more questions about my
student teaching than Peace Corps. Don’t get me wrong, many people; especially
my close friends will listen to every detail. Vasav was the one who motivated
me to write today because he wanted to hear about my experience and life being
home (and yes, I will see you around Thanksgiving). Last week I was at the
beach with Megan, and I spent most of the day talking to her about Georgia, and
how awkward I feel to be back half the time; she listened intently, and when I
apologized for talking so much about it, her response was “you were gone for
two years, and it was a big part of your life, I want to hear about it”. Yep,
that’s why after 10+ years I am still friends with these people. However, most
people I meet or become acquainted to want a brief five-minute description in
which they nod and smile at the appropriate times and then tune me out after a
minute. Meanwhile, I listen to every minute detail of their office job, and the
big presentation they have to give on the slumping sales. BORING!!!!! Nonetheless,
I will listen to them, ask questions, and try to genuinely show interest
expecting to talk about Georgia at some point, but then realize they don’t
understand, nor care about Peace Corps, or Georgia. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Georgians are fascinated by America and my life in America.
I can talk to someone for hours about America. Most Americans don’t give a crap
about Georgia, and generally don’t care what happens there, or what my experiences
and hardships were. Or, they look at me weirdly when I make a cultural mishap,
or ask a Georgian type question (i.e. When are you getting married?)<o:p></o:p></div>
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The work that I did in Georgia often seems to pale in
comparison to what Americans take for granted. It’s weird to feel proud in
Georgia, and have people thank me in the street for something that Americans
don’t give a s*** about. I expected this from all the reading I had done the
past few months, and I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t as much as I thought.
This all just kind of fits in with the whole job thing, I guess.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jobs. Some Volunteers came back and got them immediately.
Some not. I’m in the NOT category. I seriously thought Peace Corps would be big
for a social studies teacher. But, here I am, one week until school and I’m
unemployed. First off, I just barely missed the cut off for most of the
interviews and in-class lesson demonstrations. I arrived in July, and because
school was over I couldn’t show administrators my teaching abilities. I had a
bunch of calls for interviews when I was still in Georgia, but they wouldn’t do
Skype, and by the time I came home the positions were already filled. There
have only been a few positions that have opened up since, and I’m generally
stuck now. I’d go into something else, but I’m not exactly qualified to do
anything else except teach. Not just that, but the jobs I have looked into
require more years of experience that I don’t have. It sucks, because I know in
some of these positions I am over-qualified for them in every way except for on
paper. To anybody in college reading this, your GPA actually DOES count after
graduation; so don’t spend hours playing Halo and miss that Biology Lab every
week (but it is acceptable to ditch that “dance” class, or at least sneak in a
little jungle juice).<o:p></o:p></div>
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There is one more thing about teaching that I’m trying to
grapple with. There was a distinct difference between the way I teach, and what
my professors taught me in my teaching college. I had one class when I was
getting my Masters’ where the professor yelled at me and called me a “fascist”
because I disagreed with her about tracking. I have never quite figured out
what to say in interviews when the supervisor/principal asks me how I’d conduct
my class or handle classroom management. Do I tell them the general BS I
learned in my Masters’? Or do I tell them what I’ve gotten to work (which is
usually not what I learned in the teacher’s college)? I had my eyes opened at
my last interview when the supervisor basically said “that s*** doesn’t work,
and the kids in this school will eat you alive” when I talked about setting up
rules with the kids and creating a democratic classroom. Personally, I couldn’t
agree more. I want my classroom a benevolent dictatorship. Students will know
my personal pedagogy, and I’ll always treat them with respect, but there will
be boundaries and expectations that they will just HAVE to follow. In Georgia,
I certainly didn’t use the “democratic classroom”, and if I did my 12<sup>th</sup>
graders would go “this guy is a wimp”. So, maybe I’ve been going into my interviews
in the wrong way. Maybe I need to be myself, and say what I really think, and
not parrot back the pseudoscience of professors who have spent no real time in
an actual classroom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe I’ll just go back to get a masters’ or doctorate in a
subject that actually means something and is based on real science and
research.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll keep looking, but heading back abroad is starting to
look more and more appealing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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me menatrebi saqartvelo da chemi megobrebi saqartveloshi. <o:p></o:p></div>
Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-61145929806115698652012-07-07T21:06:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.204-04:00The End (Part 2)<br />
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Well, I’m back home in the USA. More than two years after
going to Philadelphia, and signing the form that solidified my two-year commitment
in Peace Corps, I am back in New Jersey. It’s a little weird being back. I’m
still applying for teaching jobs, and I guess we’ll see what comes out of that.
I’m split over everything. On one hand, I’m happy to be home, to see my family
and friends. On the other hand, I miss my life in Keda, too. Sure, I was pretty
bored sometimes, but to be honest, I felt like every day was a mini-adventure.
The biggest adventure I had today was driving to the Verizon store to decide on
a new phone plan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I keep being asked by well-intentioned, but completely
oblivious people, “Well, what was it like over there?” I actually find myself not
even saying much of anything unless there is a topic that reminds me of Georgia.
But asking me “What’s it like?” Ehh… Do you have five-hours to explain to you
the hours I spent in a sleeping bag to stay warm in winter? How about trying to
teach English in a local public school? No, I didn’t learn Russian. Yes,
Georgian is an actual language. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can blame anyone. Just because I left for two years doesn’t
mean everyone else was just sitting around waiting for me to return. People
went out into the world, got jobs, got engaged/married, had kids, and had more
kids. A group of us in Peace Corps would count down our service by calculating
gestation periods. A somewhat strange, but nonetheless unique way of counting
down 27-months. But, to most people if I said that in a conversation, I’d get a
stare and a head turn like, “What are you talking about?” That’s the main issue;
people just don’t understand.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I ran into an old friend’s father around town today and luckily
he wouldn’t stop talking about his son. I was seriously wanting to say, “Alright,
cool, got a job doing *****. I’ve been living in GEORGIA and you won’t even
give me 5-minutes to talk about my job.” To most people when I say that I
taught English I feel like they lump me into some group of 2<sup>nd</sup> rate
volunteers. As if I wasn’t really doing any work. Nope, I was just teaching.
Again, all of us Volunteers knew this was a common occurrence, and I was ready
for it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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No big deal. I just wish I could talk about poop with more
people than my 6-year old niece and 2-year old nephew.<o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-69146015230520952922012-06-21T11:29:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.405-04:00The End (Part 1)<div class="MsoNormal">
Vasav was quite right. Just because I’m no longer a
Volunteer does not mean I can stop writing in my blog. Oh, wait, that’s right,
I haven’t written in my blog to TELL the blog-world that I finished my service
on 19 June. Well, blog-world, I am officially a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer
(RPCV). A person can also call me a “newly unemployed person”. My apologies for
not writing sooner. The month of June was pretty crazy for me. I had trainings
to lead, guests coming, parents coming, saying goodbyes, packing, saying more
goodbyes, and now I am a tourist in the country I’ve considered home for
two-years. My parents and I have just finished the second day of a two-week
tour of Georgia. After Georgia I will be in Turkey for a week. I will be back
on U.S. soil on 4 July. Yes, that’s right, Independence Day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I told people I’d write a more thought out and honest
opinion of Peace Corps and working in Georgia. Here’s the long and the short of
it. I loved it. It wasn’t easy, and I was certainly frustrated or angry sometimes,
but I really enjoyed my two-years here. I think Peace Corps has done some
wonderful and amazing things in Georgia, and I am really fond of the Peace
Corps Staff in Georgia who were always helpful. There are few employers that I
could go to with a problem that would work with me to solve the problem at
hand, but still leave the problem IN my hand. Life is both simple and
complicated in Peace Corps, and I disliked all the rules governing my
whereabouts and not being able to take the night train by myself. Those aren’t
big issues, and it’s all for safety reasons anyway, but we are all adults,
right?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for living in my town. It was hard at first. I felt
uneasy at the beginning, but that’s normal with any new major change or stress.
I adapted, and I felt like I was able to manage most situations in a
constructive manner. I could have done some things differently, but I feel
confident that I did the best I could with the information that I had at the
time. I learned some things, and I’m proud of the things I accomplished. It’s
impossible for me to mention the things I accomplished without referring to
some of the HCNs (Host Country Nationals) who really put in their time and
effort to help me. I won’t mention them by name, but I really could not have
done it without all their guidance and help. We did some great work, and
development here, but I also made some great lifelong friends. It was hard to
say goodbye. Each supra we had the last week was more emotional than the last,
and I found my Georgian to be too poor to really fully express my admiration
for the people I’ve lived with and worked with in my town.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll start by answering some questions I commonly get:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Do you like Georgia?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Read above. I love Georgia. I think Georgia has a lot of
amazing and wonderful people. I also think Georgia (as does every country) has
a lot of issues that it needs to work out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: What issues are those?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: There are a bunch, but I think unemployment is the most
pertinent and important right now. After that, I’d say gender issues.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Do you like Georgian food?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: I like when it’s made for real during supras or holidays.
The day-to-day potatoes, eggs, and bread makes me go crazy. My host mother was
always great about varying my diet so that was nice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Would you do Peace Corps again?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: If I was 23 again I’d probably still go. I think I would
have been a better Volunteer if I had waited a bit longer and gained some real
experience first. Peace Corps Volunteers range in all ages, but I found the
older Volunteers to be doing the larger projects. Age has a big place in
Georgia, and I was still considered a “bitchi” (don’t pronounce it like the bad
word, the “I” makes an “ee” sound) or “boy”, and therefore not taken as
seriously as a 40-year old married man. It is still what you make of it
yourself, and I did great things, but again, I think if I was a little older
people would look at me differently. I doubt I’d do Peace Corps again right now,
because unfortunately we just don’t make enough money, and it’s probably time
for me to grow up. I’d definitely do it later in life with a willing spouse.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Would you recommend Peace Corps to a friend?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Depends on the friend. Most of the Volunteers I know are
great people. I am lucky I could spend the past two-years moaning, whining, but
ultimately learning, working, and sharing ideas with them. Peace Corps Volunteers should have a particular set of skills, and some people
just don’t have them. I’d tell my friends who have great skills that wish to
share those skills with developing nations to definitely do it, because it’s an
experience you won’t forget.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-27013104328893508142012-05-30T04:14:00.001-04:002019-10-11T21:37:59.661-04:00Mistakes<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve talked a lot about the things I’ve done and the
projects I’ve completed. I take great pride in these accomplishments, and wish
I could do more in Keda. Right now I want to talk a bit about my failures here
the past two years. It’s a good practice to look back on an experience and see
what went well and what went poorly. I’m not necessarily depressed or have deep
regrets about any of these, but they are things I should reflect on for the
future.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First up is my Georgian language ability. From the beginning
of PST I slacked off on my language acquisition. I figured “Hey, two years is a
long time, and I am in class four hours a day, six days a week, I need to relax
and not study too hard.” Ugh… I wish in PST I spent more time studying the
vocabulary and really trying to take in the language. It was hard because it
really was the first language I ever had to learn, and there was a lot of
terminology and grammar that I didn’t understand. I am not horrible at
Georgian, but I could have done better. I remember before I left I thought I’d
spend the first year learning Georgian, and the second year learning Russian (I’ve
always wanted to learn and speak Russian). I set that goal for myself, and I
didn’t achieve it well. I can read in Russian, and having a Russian speaking
girlfriend certainly helps, but I failed in learning being fluent in Georgian,
and hardly know Russian. I keep this in mind, because I need to continue
studying Russian, and I know that it just takes WORK. No way around it, I just
need to work at it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My second perceived failure would be in the schools. To
anybody who isn’t a teacher I want to tell you: TEACHING IS HARD. It’s easy if
all you want to do is babysit all day long, but daily lesson planning, planning
activities, classroom management, and dealing with a wide range of knowledge
and abilities is difficult. Then throw in my less than superb language
abilities and all you find is a frustrated Tom being laughed at by a classroom
of students for saying “kvertskhebi” (eggs). In Georgian the ‘ebi’ signifies
possessive case, but when used with the word for egg, “kvertski” it means
testicles. Live and learn. These language issues and frustrations with large class
sizes was a breeding ground for my discontent. I came in the first year with a good
attitude, but there were multiple issues in and out of my control that resulted
in me pulling away from the school and really letting many of my students down.
]I did my best, but I still have a lot to learn about teaching.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d say my third failure—well not really a failure more a
regret—was not getting out more. I met a lot of people and did a lot in my
first few months at site. My host sister and I would go to the park and we’d
just go around Keda having fun. It was a good summer. The first winter forced
everyone to stay indoors, but I didn’t come back out of my shell the next
spring. I don’t know why, but I didn’t spend as much time hanging out in the
center of town or going to other people’s houses. I think some was culture
shock hitting me, and feeling frustrated being asked the same frustrating
questions. Some of it was people asking me why I didn’t speak Georgian better,
and me feeling guilty and therefore not willing to say anything else. Then
maybe it was that whenever I did go to someone else’s home I would be expected
to drink copious amounts of wine and/or tchatcha. You might think, “Dude, that’s
awesome.” No, it isn’t. Seriously, parts of me just want to go back to the USA
and never touch a drink again. I never had a bad experience, and I never got
sick, but I have never been a huge drinker, and I disliked being judged for not
drinking enough (ironically if you drink too much it’s looked down on and they
gossip about it). Still, I wish I had gone out more and just hung out with
people in town. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, there you have it. These failures don’t define my PC
service, and I’m not upset or depressed by them. I’m just reflecting on the
experience, and trying to find ways to grow and learn from it. I’m sure there
are other mistakes I’ve made, and other things I could have and should have
done differently, this is it for now. <o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-61571733626486553322012-05-28T10:34:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.222-04:00Memorial Day<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just finished reading my sister-in-law’s <a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/05/memorial-daysoldiers-and-families-and.html">post</a>.
I don’t mean to sound redundant, but I want to say something as well. There’s a
simple quote that some people attribute to Winston Churchill, and some attribute
to George Orwell:<br />
<br />
"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand
ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm."<br />
<br />
It
doesn’t matter if you’re talking about World War II or Vietnam, our soldiers
are still there willing to defend our lives—unfortunately they don’t always get
a say in where they go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think nowadays it becomes difficult for people to separate
our soldiers from the politics. I have my own opinions on the wars, but this is
not a political post. Plus, I’m not supposed to make big political statements
on the internet (remember I do work for the US Government). Memorial Day is not
a time for politics. It is a time to honor the people who have sacrificed their
lives for the rest of us. It is for the soldiers who fought bravely from the
Revolution all the way to the War in Afghanistan. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not all wars have been justified and/or legal. I don’t find
America that different from most other nations past and present as far as its
human rights is concerned. I know we have many black spots in our history,
trust me; I’ve studied them a lot. It doesn’t matter. This is a day to remember
the SOLDIERS and their FAMILIES. All soldiers sacrifice something, and some
sacrifice everything. One might argue, “It’s their choice, and it’s their own
fault”. You can say that, but then I say: “Yes, they CHOSE to sacrifice their
time, their family, and sometimes their lives for their country.” I think that
makes the individual soldier honorable. We should honor their families as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Memorial Day may have originally been reserved for soldiers,
but we can remember and memorialize others who have given their lives in
service to our country. We can memorialize the men and women who worked in the
underground railroad, the women who marched for their rights, and anyone else
willing to step up to make our country a better place. That is what makes a
country great—the ability to improve and try to become better than it was the
day before. It takes the entire nation to do that, and our soldiers are willing
to do their part. I guess my question to anyone reading this post (which is
very few) is: What have YOU done to make America a better place? While you think about it for a second I will, too. I certainly haven't done enough, in my opinion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I despise the people
who just complain about the problems, but don’t offer solutions or don’t
participate in the process to make it better. Memorial Day is a day to remember
the people who did everything they could for their country, and were willing to
sacrifice everything for it—not just soldiers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nonetheless, thank you to the men and women of our Armed
Forces—and of course, Dean.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q, Vas, Timmy—you guys as well. <o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-16871011132846292012-05-23T04:50:00.001-04:002019-10-11T21:37:59.337-04:00Newspapers<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got interviewed by some newspapers this past week. One was
an opposition newspaper located in Batumi that I think is famous amongst PCVs
for writing the article “Where to Find Prostitutes 5 Lari and Up”. The other
newspaper, which actually had to reschedule is the newspaper for Keda.
Apparently the fitness center has made a pretty big splash in many areas. I
heard that directors from other regions in Adjara came to see how we did it and
what we had. The newspapers have been waiting, and now suddenly appear. Peace
Corps told me it’s a matter of time before the news stations come out as well.
Hopefully I’ll be on a plane back to the USA before that happen—I don’t like
cameras—or reporters. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still, it was nice telling my story and having the
journalist look at me, tilt her head and go “How old are you?” “I’m 25.” “And
you planned all THIS?” I’ve been approached several times on the street with
people saying, “Tom, thank you for the fitness center, it’s wonderful.” A lot
of men tell me this, but from what I hear men hardly use the center. Women are
in there all the time, though. I’m just very pleased with the way it all turned
out. My school life may not be something I enjoy talking about, and I don’t
make a great English teacher, but this development stuff I really enjoy doing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With TLG volunteers pouring into schools I think Peace Corps
may want to think about changing its mission here. Whenever I’m asked about the
new Volunteers coming to the Keda region I just say “I don’t know.” Honestly, I
have no idea. I just think that Peace Corps teachers have done excellent work here,
but maybe let the Georgian government work out their own schools and let Peace
Corps focus on what we do best: clubs, sports, development, camps, and gender
projects. I just hope whoever the new Volunteer in Keda is will utilize the
fitness center as a resource to do healthy lifestyle trainings and fitness
classes; which I unfortunately ran out of time and money to do.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Good luck G-12s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Less than one month!!</div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-76566392225749826312012-05-17T09:57:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.495-04:00Jobs<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided with just a few weeks remaining in Peace Corps I
will update a bit more often. After I COS I’ll probably start a new blog (or
not) depending on my (un)employment situation. Perhaps I could call it “The
Unemployed Lyon” or “Employ the Lyon”. Eh, no matter, yet. I’ll figure out my
life goal at some point. I’ll really miss my current blog title. For such a
cool name I should have been a lot more active in my blog writing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I promised I’d write a bit about my current job search for
after Peace Corps. I am looking throughout the internet, and my Mom is in the
USA scouring through newspapers and the internet trying to find jobs for me as
a social studies teacher. That’s what I’m certified as by the amazingly awesome
State of New Jersey [Shore]. The lists for teachers is considerably larger than
it was the year I left for Peace Corps, or the year before that when I got my
Masters. I would think that now with my awesome Peace Corps experience it’d be
a lot easier trying to find jobs. I mean both my best friends know what they’re
doing. Unfortunately, after turning in half-dozen online applications and even
more paper applications I am still jobless. Maybe it’s the fact I’m not in the
USA, and they cannot interview me? Maybe I’ve been away for too long? Maybe it’s
my college transcript that has that big ol’ 2.8 written there (yeah, I didn’t
study nearly hard enough). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess now I’m worried about what I’ll do next. If I don’t
get a job then I’ll be living at home and helping my sister-in-law take care of
her five children. Maybe I’ll start expanding the garden my brother made years
ago. This last one is something that really interests me now. Here in Georgia I
sometimes go with my host family to the village to do work—actually, they do
the work and just want me to sit there. I don’t blame them too much, this is
their livelihood and they wouldn’t want some idiot American destroying their
crops. Still, these aren’t huge sprawling farms, but just large enough to look
awesome. I wonder what my Mom and Dad would have to say to this. I mean, my Mom
loves gardening, but she may not have a small farm in mind for our backyard. It
would be a lonely option, because Plainsboro is not well suited for a fun
social life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then of course I could get back and look for jobs outside
the teaching profession. I could go to Washington, D.C. and maybe work for the
Government. I have one-year non-competitive eligibility for federal jobs. I don’t
know what that will get me, but hopefully something. I always loved Washington
and would totally live there again if I could. Plus, many of my friends are
still in the area, so I already have a social base.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My final idea is a bit ruined now, but I’ve thought of
reinventing it differently. I had been thinking of moving to Ukraine and trying
to find a job there. I don’t enjoy teaching English, but if I found a high
enough paying job I’d consider it. Unfortunately, I don’t see Kyiv as an option
anymore for different reasons. I have been thinking about Tbilisi, though. A
G-9 works in Tbilisi now, and I think he enjoys it. Then there are different
NGOs and alike that I could get into. There are opportunities here, and most
positions could give me a comfortable living wage for Tbilisi. One former PCV
was telling me of a 2,500 GEL/month position. I like Tbilisi a lot, and I’d be
interested in MAYBE spending another 2-3 years here. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or I could move to Rhode Island/Connecticut with my newly
engaged best friend and be a bus boy at a bar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nonetheless, America is my first choice. Don’t leave me high
and dry here Uncle Sam. I’ve served you faithfully now for two years. Time to
return the favor.<o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-21621427773524176072012-05-16T04:45:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:37:59.514-04:00Why?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before I left the USA Peace Corps wanted a full medical
checkup. So, I was going back and forth to the doctor’s office. It’s
interesting that despite all my albinism, nystagmus, extra wisdom teeth, and
ADHD my medical clearance only took a few weeks. Definitely NOT the norm for
most Volunteers—it takes up to a year in many cases. Then again, I told them in
my interview to put me on a plane and just let me go now. I digress. In one of my doctor’s appointments
the nurse who was about to give me a half-dozen shots asks me what this was all
about. This was the conversation:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nurse: “So, why do you need all these tests and shots?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tom: “Well, I’m applying to the Peace Corps.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nurse: <i>Strange look
and a raised eyebrow</i> “You know they get sent to the middle of nowhere,
right?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tom: “Yep, that’s what I want.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nurse: “Why?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point I probably gave my awkward *shrug* that I do
when I don’t want someone to talk to me anymore. I didn’t really think
completely about the “Why?” I was content just knowing I was f’in leaving New
Jersey and not facing another hard year of school interviews and being let down
by a shitty job market (“shitty” is a Microsoft Word recognized word, by the
way). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here in Georgia I get asked this question a lot, too. “Why
did you come here? We are poor and don’t have anything? Why would you leave a
rich country like America and come to poor Georgia?” I mean or some variation
of the question. I usually just say how great Georgia is, and how the people are
so nice, and I just came to help. I usually just get a strange look and a
shrug, then they get fed up with my poor language skills and switch back to the
simple questions like: “Do you like to drink wine or tchatcha [jet fuel]?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I haven’t focused enough on the “Why?” If you asked my older
brother “Why?” he’d probably give you a spiel about protecting the things you
love (maybe me?), protecting those who cannot protect themselves (me), and the
strong defending the weak (me again). In a way, I joined Peace Corps with the
same attitude, but after a few months in Georgia I realize I’m not protecting
or serving anyone (quite literally the women try to do everything for me). I
never thought too seriously about the three simple Peace Corps goals:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1) Helping the people of interested countries in meeting
their need for trained men and women.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2) Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on
the part of the peoples served.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
3) Helping promote a better understanding of other peoples
on the part of Americans.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, hell, I look at these goals and I actually feel pretty
good. The first goal I touched on the lightest, in my opinion. I didn’t do as
much in school as I would have liked, but between FLEX, my fitness center, and
numerous smaller projects I feel pretty good. Goal 2 I really let fly, maybe to
an extreme amount. My host mother loves to brag that she has had over 12
Americans, 1 Pole, 2 Chinese, 1 Ukrainian, 1 Iranian, and numerous other
nationalities come through her house. I’ve certainly tried to show my host
family, and all of Keda the diversity of America, and our values and beliefs.
All of Keda knows I do my own laundry, clean my own room, and am an independent
person mostly. Goal three I’ve tried to demonstrate as well as possible in my
blog and in personal conversations with friends and family. It’s harder, but it
makes me really excited to be a teacher and talk to my students about my
experiences in Peace Corps, and about Georgia itself. Heck, maybe I’ll have a
supra in one of my classes—don’t worry we’ll replace the wine/tchatcha with
water or apple juice. But, the traditions in Georgia are centuries old, and
deserve their place in a World History class alongside European, Chinese, or
American history.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, why did I do it? I did it for me. I did it for people I
didn’t know. They didn’t NEED me, or even WANT me, but they [mostly]
appreciated my presence and caring. I had a discussion with a Georgian guy the
other day who was talking about China becoming the next world’s superpower and
overtaking America. He added the one caveat, though. “Americans are coming to
Georgia to help Georgians with little or no benefit to themselves (he’s talking
about TLG and Peace Corps). Other countries are coming to Georgia to only make
money.” I had this exact discussion with my friends in Tbilisi last weekend.
Peace Corps is a resource drain on the American economy. Not just in the
federal budget, but also in the working man hours all 8,000 Volunteers
worldwide could contribute. Peace Corps is truly a selfless organization (not
perfect), and all of us here gave up parts of ourselves and our time for other
people we didn’t know. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think that’s what really makes America special. We aren’t
a perfect country, but there are thousands of us who will willingly put
ourselves out there for the common good. I just hope that nurse out there is
reading this (she isn’t)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This post is a little difficult to follow, but thanks for
reading.<o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-68265718883375208342012-05-09T07:22:00.001-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.348-04:00Another Leaving Post<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a month left in Peace Corps. ONE MONTH. It’s a
surreal experience to think about where I came from and how I ended up here. I’ve
thought about everything I’ve done in the two years I’ve been here. I am
thinking about the G12 group that arrived last week; they are in the beginning
of pre-service training (PST). I remember my first week of PST. I didn’t
completely understand the rules and went to visit other trainees in a
neighboring village without notifying my coordinator. I got caught and feared
for my future in Peace Corps. I honestly thought they’d kick me out then. They
didn’t. I signed some form and then went back to normal. I remember being
terrified, though. Ever since then I’ve followed every Peace Corps protocol
about informing them of my whereabouts. I swear I’m not a trouble maker!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then of course I think about the things I thought were
important in my life two years ago. I think about how I didn’t have anything to
really be proud of. Sure, I had a Masters in Teaching, but no job. I really
didn’t do well in my undergraduate studies, and I felt my life just passing me
by. The two years in Georgia gave me a lot of perspective on my life and
future. I’ve thought more about caring for other people and doing things that
don’t give me any direct benefit. For example, my host mother came to me today
and told me that she had an argument with another person who didn’t believe I
designed the fitness center. At one point in my life I’d be offended and hurt;
I would have needed the external recognition to know I did a good job. Not
anymore. Now, I’ve received plenty of external recognition; from Peace Corps,
other Volunteers, a Peace Corps newsletter, community members, family, and the
local government. But, it doesn’t mean as much as the happiness and pride I feel
from within. I know I did it, and I know it’s a great project. That one
community member may not know I made the fitness center happen, but she still
uses it, and that’s all that really matters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Two Volunteers, a married couple, came to Keda yesterday to
conduct a fitness training. The girl is one of our groups most accomplished
Volunteers. She organized Volunteers in the past to do activities across the
country. Plus, she is a very physically active person, and knows her stuff. I
think 13-15 women showed up, and apparently it went “swimmingly”. My host
mother went and really loved it, and this morning after the Volunteers left, a
guest came over and asked if she could come back today. It was great having her
come, because I would not have been able to lead a fitness and healthy
lifestyles training with women. They wouldn’t ask me the important questions.
They wouldn’t feel comfortable with my presence.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Back to me leaving…<o:p></o:p></div>
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The relationships I’ve formed in the past year have also meant
a lot to me. I’ve made a lot of great friends here. I got a call from a friend
who got Fulbright in Indonesia a few weeks ago. She called at 1AM and goes, “Tom,
wake up! I’m going to Indonesia! You’re the first person I’m telling after my
boyfriend, because we’re best friends.” Then my other friend is going to Russia
on a State Department program. I mean, we’re all going places here. We’ve all
accomplished so much, and we’ve trudged through the same frustrations together.
We’ve experienced the same winters, and have all been through similar marshutka
experiences (I have not been thrown-up on in a marshutka yet, knock on wood). <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s not just the other PCVs I’ve made friendships with.
There are plenty of Georgians that I will continue talking with and remember
forever. From my host family, my counterparts, and my personal relationships, I
will remember them; as they will remember me. I have a bit of a reputation in
Keda now, and most won’t forget me anytime soon. I could come back to Keda in 5-years
or 10-years and walk off the marshutka and people would stare at me just the
same, but they will know who I am. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve been writing a lot recently about my nearing departure.
What I really need to think about now is trying to find a job when I get home.
If any of you reading this has an open position for a CEAS secondary education
social studies teacher please contact me<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span>.
I’d really appreciate it. I’ll write
more on that later, though.<o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-59245378293565772882012-04-26T05:24:00.000-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.186-04:00Two-Year AnniversaryI haven't written a post in a while. I really wanted to keep the one about my brother up as long as possible. It's actually the third most read post on my blog of all time. Nonetheless, I should not let Vasav down, and he's getting a bit antsy for an update on my life. I have a lot I can write about. Today is a special day. Today is April 26. Two years ago today I got in my Dad's Toyota Prius and drove with 100 pounds of luggage to Philadelphia to sign the forms to be a member of Peace Corps. Here I am two years later, a completely different person (good ways and bad) and more grown up.<br />
<br />
I think that in 2 months I'll be leaving Georgia and I know I'll be back, but Georgia won't be the same.I've been here long enough to see (and participate in) some great changes. Georgia is developing and the Georgia I saw from my plane in April 2010 won't be the same Georgia in 2014. In the USA things are still relatively the same. Will Georgia still be a place I love in 2014? Probably. I just hope getting <a href="http://nrn.com/article/wendys-open-restaurants-country-georgia" target="_blank">25 new Wendy's restaurants</a> won't destroy the society (in the way fast food destroys most societies).<br />
<br />
Then again, I was at a supra the other day when a former Parliament minister (PM) said to me, "Tom, I think Georgia should be America's 52nd (yes, many people think D.C. is a state) state". We had an interesting conversation and I basically said, "Why do you want that? Georgia is it's own country and culture." Honestly, I think he just wants it so he doesn't need a visa to travel to the USA (it would also provide protection from their large northern neighbor). An interesting supra conversation anyway.<br />
<br />
Then of course I helped take this:<br />
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And turn it into this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWFfKhayOXLrlO_7Qujy_4kuIEKsCMarBBeXtCNpXWmkAiCGFYqeP2Thb1kHrMKLVdvQ12dHGWE8j-yYTgBX5-TXLDzbvKnFFffp_J6fbNbNBcCPCt1qiilylJbD5dFQr8pn7zqZBN3ay/s1600/2012-04-10+2012-04-10+Fitness+Center+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWFfKhayOXLrlO_7Qujy_4kuIEKsCMarBBeXtCNpXWmkAiCGFYqeP2Thb1kHrMKLVdvQ12dHGWE8j-yYTgBX5-TXLDzbvKnFFffp_J6fbNbNBcCPCt1qiilylJbD5dFQr8pn7zqZBN3ay/s320/2012-04-10+2012-04-10+Fitness+Center+001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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IT'S DONE!!! I had a great compliment just now, too. My friend in a nearby village just called and said one of his teachers was saying how awesome the fitness club was. "ra magaria" ("very cool/great/strong") was her wording for it. I'm really happy to know that not only is it nice, but PEOPLE ARE USING IT!!! The director of the sports school want to put up a plaque to thank me and Peace Corps for the assistance. I told him, "you really don't have to do that, but if you do thank the people who also helped, my friends, family, and strangers who donated what they could" (that was said through a translator, by the way).</div>
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So, thank you all for your support and help in the past two years. I cannot wait to see everyone back in the USA. </div>
<br />Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-52964438632979749262012-03-27T13:48:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:38:00.076-04:00A True Hero<div>
<span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">He-ro </span><i>noun</i></div>
<div>
1. A person, typically a man, who is admired for courageous or noble qualities.</div>
<div>
2. Dean Lyon, <i>see picture below</i></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfon9EQGGirsNjlDAwYiYjz9seX9jEXME5S7ojn087bXBff_bL0tgVqDOu5vz2NonoO475iNm5Pp7vShD5o6FePHLbR08MS5Kqexu3xRkKif50z6Hc1bTLOI1k7bXWM-VINCfBghmx1vi/s1600/P8030001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfon9EQGGirsNjlDAwYiYjz9seX9jEXME5S7ojn087bXBff_bL0tgVqDOu5vz2NonoO475iNm5Pp7vShD5o6FePHLbR08MS5Kqexu3xRkKif50z6Hc1bTLOI1k7bXWM-VINCfBghmx1vi/s320/P8030001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Dean in Afghanistan: 2008</span></td></tr>
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I have already dedicated a full<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span><a href="http://tomspeacecorps.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-brother.html" target="_blank">post</a> to my older brother, Dean. I've written a lot
about him, and after reading my last post it was hard thinking what more to
add. I focused before a lot on our relationship as brothers, and spent less
time on just him. I'm not going to tell the whole story, because my
sister-in-law<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #222222;"> </span></span><a href="http://mycamokids.blogspot.com/2012/03/hello-goodbye-calendar.html" target="_blank">has already told it</a>. I think she can do a MUCH better
job at this than I can, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'll just say, unfortunately, my brother is being deployed to Afghanistan--AGAIN. Leaving... soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I haven't seen my older brother since 2009. I won't see him
again until 2013. I really don't think that's fair. Nevermind that,
though, the fact remains that despite the hardships he and his family go
through they are AMAZING. Seriously. He, his wife, and their 5 children. Each
of them is their own hero in one way or another. Sometimes thinking about
everything they go through I feel bad for whining and complaining about MY
hardships.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I sit here and feel frustrated, because people aren't
translating what I need on time, or writing a proposal, or teaching in a
positive way, or because that smelly/drunk guy keeps talking to me on the
marshutka, or because it's too cold in my room. You know what I remind myself
in those times? My brother does everything that I do multiplied by 100, while
other people are shooting at him, while missing his wife and children. Also, I
get to take pictures of myself in a luxury hotel in a developing and now
peaceful country. We really have it going pretty well in Georgia. It's a good
country to be in. Plus, nobody is actively trying to kill me. My brother
doesn't complain, and he does his duty, because that's the type of man he is.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And do you know what?<o:p></o:p></div>
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He may not like doing everything that's expected from him,
but he does it, and he does it well. I've never met a more dedicated and loyal
person in my life. Dean's accomplishments, which he doesn't publicize, because
he doesn't need the advertisement, and he's just a humble person. Don't take
humbleness for weakness, though. Dean is an Army RANGER. I know, because I was
there. Oh, and Dean may not want to brag, but I'm more than happy to brag in
his place. Now, when I say "My brother could beat you up!" I REALLY
MEAN IT.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rangers jumping out of helicopters.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI33nIpZdvvwL86aiphw3PpKJ7SRmUhXg5ptjv2BMPq_t-HFboAMkxi4dNBp1jDoqylEh-bEShbcMFpbomI-atSv3AoG2CtgRGQgqkQemiJgkrEvRKmQ-paj54ym_FrhApOqi9iMK7dUbb/s1600/Ranger_Graduation052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI33nIpZdvvwL86aiphw3PpKJ7SRmUhXg5ptjv2BMPq_t-HFboAMkxi4dNBp1jDoqylEh-bEShbcMFpbomI-atSv3AoG2CtgRGQgqkQemiJgkrEvRKmQ-paj54ym_FrhApOqi9iMK7dUbb/s320/Ranger_Graduation052.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyon men at Dean's Ranger graduation. By night we save the world in Call of Duty.</td></tr>
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Then of course you have the other side of Dean. See on one
side he's the fierce Army Ranger who can turn normal objects into weapons, and
then, well, you have the Dean below who makes a good horse. A great family man,
who even after long and stressful days at work can come home to be with his
family.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dean and bug.</td></tr>
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Joining the Army is a courageous thing for anybody to do.
People who join each have their own reasons to do so. Dean has never sought
glory, he never needed to prove anything (to himself or other people), and he
certainly had/has other options (did I mention he went to Cornell and was
SUPPOSED to go to grad school?). Dean is selfless and believes in serving and
helping others. He doesn't like war, but his family and country come first. In
his selflessness he decided to enter a career with a lot of hardships, because
he cares about all of us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All soldiers should be honored and treated with respect, but
in my opinion Dean is an actual hero. He's the best-of-the-best. He's not just
a soldier-hero, he is a HERO. He didn't ask to be, he didn't want to be, but he
is. He is his wife's hero. He is his children's hero. He is my hero. Whether
you like it or not, whether you realize it or not, he is YOUR hero too. So, if
you get a chance between buying the iPad 3 and waiting for the iPhone 5 to come
out, keep in mind that Dean doesn't fight for you to have the iPad, he fights
so you, and your children, have a future. I certainly won't forget it in
nine-months he will be gone for.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Good luck, Dean. We all love you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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P.S. Playing Call of Duty when I was home was awesome!</div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-27179282191042494292012-03-26T11:53:00.002-04:002019-10-11T21:37:59.678-04:00A "Simple" Vacation<br />
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The past week as been amazing, if you exclude weather storms
that causes planes not to land where they are supposed to, a flu bug that
leaves me bed-ridden for five days, or your long-distance girlfriend leaving
after a great trip. I just want you all to know that we stayed in places like this:<o:p></o:p></div>
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I lead a HARD Peace Corps life. Anyway, we spent her birthday here, which was AMAZING. Then we went to Tbilisi where I started running a fever, then took a train back to Batumi where I was still sick, and now Anastasiya's gone, I'm in Keda, and I'm STILL sick. Anastasiya had to run out and walk all over Batumi and get physically harassed by beggars (but saved by an old Georgian lady) to get me water and antibiotics while I ran a 104 degree fever. Joy. We went to Keda for a few days and played in the snow, and Tbilisi where I managed to walk around for 6 hours with a fever, pull weird hairs out of my beard, and have new girlfriend bought Soviet pins (sweeeettt).</div>
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Then of course there was the fun with her flying to Batumi. Basically the evil airlines (and weather) took a whole day and night away from us. To make a long story short, I woke up early on the 16th and saw her plane had a 70 minute delay. That's unfortunate, but not the end of the world. Then she gets to the airport and she spends the next 10 hours in the airport waiting for the plane to take off, because apparently the wheel is broken. It finally take off 12:30am Georgia Time, so I take a taxi to the airport to wait for her plane which should come in at 2:30am. I'm waiting, and then I find out their plane isn't going to land in Batumi because of snow, and is going straight to Tbilisi. I'M PISSED. Then I find out from Anastasiya that there's no representative from the airline to help them. Some people are getting buses and taxis to take out west. I tell her NOT to do that, because the snow and lateness would make it dangerous. I promptly go back to the apartment in Batumi, get online, find phone numbers for Airzena offices (and employees) and proceed to call every one of them--at 3:30am. I yelled at a guy in Georgian for the 10 minutes using the simple Georgian I knew and trying to Google Translate words I needed--I wished I had spent more time studying my Georgian). THEN, I wasn't able to get in touch with Anastasiya, because her phone was out of money. It's 5am at this point, my two host sisters, and their two roommates and trying to help, but employees stopped picking up their phones to my number.</div>
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I fell asleep about 5:30am.</div>
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I woke up to a text message from Anastasiya that said she was on a train and would be in Batumi by 1:30. Rejoice! So, she got to Batumi (with her own adventure story of even more epic proportions). They took a whole day away from us and ruined my original plans.</div>
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Oh, and then there was this whole thing of me getting sick on Thursday and running a fever every single day (and now) until the moment she left, which caused us not to take advantage of the great weather.</div>
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But you know what?</div>
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It was still an amazing visit and I'm so happy she came. Words cannot describe how happy I was/am. But, I won't be that bloggy-PDA person here, and instead keep all the happy memories comfortably in my own brain. Because, well, I hate sharing.</div>
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<br /></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-22063130374825162242012-03-09T13:59:00.002-05:002019-10-11T21:37:59.533-04:00Nearing the End<br />
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Wow. It’s been an exhausting (but awesome) week. I’ve been
working hard trying to figure out a lot of the stuff for my fitness center.
Unfortunately, right now there are contracts and bank transfers involved that
use vocabulary I am unsure of. I guess this is a good thing, because most
decisions are going thru me, but not necessarily done BY me. We are really
encouraged to be facilitators in our projects as PCVs, and as a facilitator we
can direct things, but we shouldn’t be DOING everything. This project has been
great for that. I had an idea, and now everyone in town is getting into it;
from preparing the room, to writing the contract, to raising more money, to
negotiating with the store, everyone is doing something. Sometimes I have to keep
myself motivated and on track, while my Georgian counterparts are waiting for
me to catch up. This project has been all I could believe and more. The
gamgebeli, or mayor, of my town wants to hire someone full-time to work at the
center. So, now there’s work for someone, too. People from the USA may think
our 7-9% unemployment is bad, but they can’t imagine the 25-40% unemployment is
places like Georgia. So, work, any work, is a great thing to provide. Still, I
couldn’t have done it without everyone’s donations. So, again, THANK YOU.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I also spent last weekend with some friends at a ski resort
north of Tbilisi, near the border with South Ossetia, called Gudauri. This is
one of the most famous resorts in Georgia, and is an up and coming attraction
for Europeans looking for new slopes. I have not been skiing since I was 7, and
I have never been snowboarding. It was a friend’s birthday, and she wanted to
have a party here (she’s a big skier). I decided to try snowboarding, and my
friend said he’d teach me a bit. Well, he stayed with me for about 30 minutes,
and then my friend whose birthday it was stayed with me for another 30 minutes.
I just kept falling on my butt. I wasn’t on the bunny slopes either; I was on
the lower-intermediate slopes. I fell A LOT!! By the end of the trip I was
starting to get the hang of it, but I took a really nasty fall on my last time
down and decided to stop. Great vacation, though.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then we returned to Tbilisi for our Close of Service (COS)
conference. Here we learned a lot about reverse culture shock—something I haven’t
thought too much about, but something it seems most returned Volunteers face—finding
jobs, health insurance, and all the paperwork and medical tests we have to go
through before leaving. We got to stay at a new, and very nice hotel in Tbilisi—the
Holiday Inn. You may laugh at that, but the Holiday Inn here is like a Radisson
in the USA (the Radisson here is like heaven). On the last day we had a big
dinner to celebrate the end. We also got to meet the ambassador and had a
reception with news crews to discuss our service. It was great, but sad at the
same time. Many of the Volunteers in my group I will not see again before
leaving Georgia. We came over together, and we’ve done a lot together, and now
this is it. In three months I’ll be out of Peace Corps and looking to the next
thing in my life. What will it be? I don’t know yet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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These are my updates for now, but I’ll write more this
weekend, because I need to catch up on my blog posts. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-18965291130197541292012-02-24T07:14:00.000-05:002019-10-11T21:37:59.440-04:00A ConversationThe following is a conversation I had (in Georgian) with a man who approached me in the center of my town; meanwhile, he is holding a bottle of vodka:<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: Tom, how are you?<br />
<b>Me</b>: I'm fine, how are you?<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: I am, *****'s father in the * grade.<br />
<b>Me</b>: Oh, really? Nice to meet you.<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: Why doesn't my son/daughter know English yet?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Well, they don't have the books. You need to buy the book for them. We use the books in class. Student draw and color in the books. They are good books.<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: Books? No. Books are expensive.<br />
<b>Me</b>: It is 18 lari<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: Yes, expensive. You must be a better teacher so my son/daughter will learn English.<br />
<b>Me</b>: How much did that bottle of vodka cost?<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b>Man</b></span>: 15 lari.Why?<br />
<b>Me</b>: Just wondering... <i>walking away</i><br />
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Sigh... I should have and could have said more, but I didn't want to start an argument in the middle of the road. I decided the best thing I could do is just walk away.Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-57480981213417675352012-02-17T09:05:00.002-05:002019-10-11T21:38:00.166-04:00My Packing Mistakes<br />
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I was going to make a Part II to my last entry, but I think
I’ll write something a little different. A G12 wrote on my last entry and was
interested in some advice about what I would have liked to bring with me and
things I wish I hadn’t brought. It’s impossible to answer the question for
somebody else. Some people just need things that other people don’t need. With
that said, there are certain things I brought with me that I consistently have
not needed, and I know I won’t need (and have likely already brought home). <o:p></o:p></div>
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My Peace Corps timeline was VERY short. Most people have to
wait at least 6-months, some one-year, but I think the average—from the interview
date to invitation—is about 8-months. From my interview date to invitation was
almost exactly 2 months (application to staging was 4 months). I really didn’t
have a lot of time to think about what I needed and plan for it. I basically
just got whatever I THOUGHT I might need. I didn’t know what to expect, and I
didn’t have a lot of time to think and rethink my packing situation. I don’t
even quite remember everything I brought, but some of it WAS ridiculous. Here
we go…<o:p></o:p></div>
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1. More than 3 pairs of nice pants.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s not that you don’t need nice pants from time to time,
but you learn to wear the same pair of pants for several weeks before washing
it. There are some pants I brought that I STILL haven’t worn yet, and most of
those I brought back to the States, because I know I’ll wear them as a teacher
next year.<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. More than 3 button-down shirts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Along with number 1 I realized that I had certain shirts
that I’d go to natural, and they aren’t all black or gray. The truth is, I
always look like a foreigner, so having a blue shirt on isn’t going to make me
stick out as much as my blue eyes and blond hair. As one PCV put it so eloquently
once: “Tom, what are you going to do when you go back to the States and you
aren’t special anymore?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Batteries<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bring a few if you want, but batteries are HEAVY, and you
can definitely find them all over the country. I brought a Ziploc bag full of
AA and AAA batteries. I still haven’t used all the batteries, but overall it
was a complete waste of space and weight. <o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Flashlights<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now one flashlight (specifically a head lamp) is an excellent
idea to bring, but the phones Peace Corps give you have flashlights on them. If
you are going to bring your own phone that won’t have a flashlight then bring a
small one, because there are many dark areas. <o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Tons of pens/pencils<o:p></o:p></div>
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You can buy these in Georgia, or have them shipped to you.
Don’t waste your valuable space on these things. I’ve turned a lot of my
mechanical pencils into prizes for students.<o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Medical supplies<o:p></o:p></div>
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Will be given to you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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7. Binders and notebooks<o:p></o:p></div>
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You will get so many of these through Peace Corps meetings
and conferences you will go nuts. I would bring one NICE notebook for PST. I
didn’t have a good notebook (Lacey stole mine) for PST and I wrote in a tiny
journal like book for the whole time that got me teased a lot. A good bind will
help you organize your notes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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8. Teaching materials (except stickers)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Leave any activities or games at home until you’re sure you
know that you need/want it. The exception being stickers. I brought a 1000 pack
of stickers from the Dollar Store and it’s been the best dollar I’ve ever
spent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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9. DVDs<o:p></o:p></div>
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I brought like 5 cases of DVDs. You really don’t WANT or
NEED all that much. I brought my entire collection DVD home in the winter. If
you want you can rip them to your hard drive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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10. Sports coat/Blazer<o:p></o:p></div>
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Wore it once when Hillary Clinton came. Not worth it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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11. Baseball mitt/Football/Soccer ball<o:p></o:p></div>
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You will use a football or soccer ball, but enough of those
will be left here in Georgia I doubt you’d use it much anyway. It’s really only
a few times in PST and during All Volunteer Conferences that you’ll end up
playing. If you want it for your summer camps and stuff then maybe ask a G10 or
G11 to let you borrow. I personally brought a football and a baseball mitt. I
never got to play baseball and the mitt got damaged from the humidity and cold.
The football I lost during FLEX training.<o:p></o:p></div>
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12. Georgian language books<o:p></o:p></div>
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You can get some money to buy language materials after PST.
You’ll get a lot of good material during and after PST. In fact, if I could
give a piece of advice to G12s: DON’T STUDY GEORGIAN NOW!!! I know you’re
excited to come and excited about this language, but enjoy your free time now.
In 2 months you will be studying for 4-hours a day 6 days a week. No matter
what studying you do from now ‘til then you might only buy yourself one day of
lessons. So, relax on the studying now, and save your time for enjoying the
things you’ll miss. <o:p></o:p></div>
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13. Clothes<o:p></o:p></div>
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I really did not need as many clothes as I brought. Think of
it this way: the more clothes you have the more laundry you’ll be doing. During
PST/service you’ll be doing your own laundry (at least females will) and you
want to do it quickly. Do bring enough that if you’re washing something that
you have something clean to change in to.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Again, this is just my personal opinion, and you don't have to do everything I say here. Everyone is different, and you'll undoubtedly find something you wish you could bring that you left back in the States. This happens, but try to make sure your bags don't weigh you down too much, because you'll be carrying them all around the first two or three months. Feel free to leave a comment or e-mail me: talyon1986@gmail.com</div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-76591097155155912912012-02-13T09:47:00.000-05:002019-10-11T21:38:00.532-04:00A Look Back (OR 5 Months Left)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
My host sister just finished using all the hot water. Now I
get to wait a couple hours until more water is ready. I haven’t bathed in a
week, but it’s not that bad because I’m always wearing the same clothes that do
a great job at holding in nature’s smell. It’s either that or get hypothermia
in my room whenever I want to change my underwear. Give me a break. So, while I
wait for the water I’ll write a blog entry.<br />
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As of last Wednesday I have officially 5-months until COS
(Close of Service). 5-months compared to the 22-months I’ve been here already
seems like a piece of cake. In fact, our COS conference will be the first week
of March, and that’s the last official Peace Corps conference I’ll ever attend.
It’ll be exciting to leave; about as exciting as it was to arrive. I’m full of
anticipation, but also fear. I know I am not the same person I arrived as. It's even funny to think we're anticipating the arrival of the G12 group, but I'll be leaving just as they swear in. So, they are reading about me as I'm preparing to leave, meanwhile they are just preparing. Weird thought (my group didn't have that issue because G9s were the first group back in Georgia since <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2008_South_Ossetia_war" target="_blank">2008 War</a>) We
can even look at pictures of the progression I’ve been in since leaving the
USA. First, there is pre-Peace Corps Invitee Tom:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiSgrsliAoJJbGGGYXG63a5v_cbdwv8m7k6pvI0seNDzz4TCd47Cj6E9spsCLZFdwfIkdlZnTFFXqo2NVq0Xpml87tiRHXMr3P30uq7K9yz6n07jQLtmmpuWf0lBPvGlH7GF5SeTO3lvN/s1600/IMG_3074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiSgrsliAoJJbGGGYXG63a5v_cbdwv8m7k6pvI0seNDzz4TCd47Cj6E9spsCLZFdwfIkdlZnTFFXqo2NVq0Xpml87tiRHXMr3P30uq7K9yz6n07jQLtmmpuWf0lBPvGlH7GF5SeTO3lvN/s320/IMG_3074.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I enjoyed kayaking, backpacking, camping, and all manners of outdoors things. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrck7ibCJllAndU7sK9tpvsN5aFt58ze-yCnEs4cuuCRBfOxCXnmsQRXPLSr8R366KfRkCt9bLkh-pWP74Xtne8gc7hclxztIE5ZM4kl0e67lfYbYTKbXrvGn71IJ60N0F-IHQvL9rl8nS/s1600/Atlantic+City038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrck7ibCJllAndU7sK9tpvsN5aFt58ze-yCnEs4cuuCRBfOxCXnmsQRXPLSr8R366KfRkCt9bLkh-pWP74Xtne8gc7hclxztIE5ZM4kl0e67lfYbYTKbXrvGn71IJ60N0F-IHQvL9rl8nS/s320/Atlantic+City038.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the other hand I had a fun party side. This is in Atlantic City.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Right before being accepted to Peace Corps I was in a bit of
a dead end. I was a teacher without a classroom. I first thought “I’ll be a
teacher with a Masters; schools would love to hire me”. We all know 2008-2009
was a hard time for jobs and especially for people my age. I always knew I
wanted to be Peace Corps, and I decided that this was the PERFECT time to
apply, you know, instead of sitting around my house playing Modern Warfare 2
and Halo (though the skills I earned help me wipe the floor with Carsten and
his brother here in Georgia). So this became:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvZVmWsvWhr12-Njepg7BkHZA_ePYkzOFDCI_AgM4iLYJZMtBbzrXfoV0WscwiaFstVH2GPn7DlLukWXkLbncCCCdtdigZx-0gZh_bW9pZqfHNzbwyXJ_f-k1LqV7FNTDf1fT8n8AnLtg/s1600/25854_1400165893528_1513715899_1001857_8019547_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyvZVmWsvWhr12-Njepg7BkHZA_ePYkzOFDCI_AgM4iLYJZMtBbzrXfoV0WscwiaFstVH2GPn7DlLukWXkLbncCCCdtdigZx-0gZh_bW9pZqfHNzbwyXJ_f-k1LqV7FNTDf1fT8n8AnLtg/s320/25854_1400165893528_1513715899_1001857_8019547_a.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I packed WAY too much in my opinion. Attention G12s: YOU DON'T NEED THAT MUCH!! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEaZhZ5YdUtBefIsu7TWfLWBrPWmeNknj0ducaaa05Ub33mzVRhiIsplw7cG1T9Fs1JCOktFrpN92ZlC8gik9hg1m-liEi5jEqKkY0O_Tfj7iw_SCaVyvbL1Gimruvrk8G9ZbfPv8hBe0/s1600/25854_1400165933529_1513715899_1001858_169134_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhEaZhZ5YdUtBefIsu7TWfLWBrPWmeNknj0ducaaa05Ub33mzVRhiIsplw7cG1T9Fs1JCOktFrpN92ZlC8gik9hg1m-liEi5jEqKkY0O_Tfj7iw_SCaVyvbL1Gimruvrk8G9ZbfPv8hBe0/s320/25854_1400165933529_1513715899_1001858_169134_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Archimedes the Kitty. This is back when she used to love me and let me pick her up. Now she's a mean, junk-yard kitty.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgcLjJEXI5dueE_4D6KfV2BWyKzxo3WboktU7RcHO2-QnONAsUgMzj9NIekmaDUSVVQ_g-yLUrju5hGiYcfzX14WmbuDKJaBIllDwTpXkmXw974CEcvu9fQN5bitvPsSN1WnKEU-endOR/s1600/25854_1400166133534_1513715899_1001861_1949094_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgcLjJEXI5dueE_4D6KfV2BWyKzxo3WboktU7RcHO2-QnONAsUgMzj9NIekmaDUSVVQ_g-yLUrju5hGiYcfzX14WmbuDKJaBIllDwTpXkmXw974CEcvu9fQN5bitvPsSN1WnKEU-endOR/s320/25854_1400166133534_1513715899_1001861_1949094_a.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last picture in front of my house.<br /></td></tr>
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Wow, this day was scary. I have that scared yet excited look
on my face. It was the last time I’d see my house until this past Christmas. Staging
in Philadelphia was great. I met some good people that are still my close
friends today. In fact, with pretty much the same people I went to Cheesecake
Factory with the last night I am going skiing and snowboarding with later this
month:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtEOMtkZCX446lpAHBYtBllE2nql3Sn1bXLnej_aBMppQojAu4XteL1amyg72iZvceIBaftiF8CDkPrWCg7W4KRX0QGkSFhIue3BBDZnEkWaODixN7gab4VJRB74Y6iYCzxX2QuPDAAaE/s1600/IMG_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTtEOMtkZCX446lpAHBYtBllE2nql3Sn1bXLnej_aBMppQojAu4XteL1amyg72iZvceIBaftiF8CDkPrWCg7W4KRX0QGkSFhIue3BBDZnEkWaODixN7gab4VJRB74Y6iYCzxX2QuPDAAaE/s320/IMG_0030.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My final American dinner--at the Cheesecake Factory.</td></tr>
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\I can still remember a female friend saying: “Tom, you’re
gonna be THAT guy aren’t you?” “What guy?” “That guy who is too charming for
his own good.” Awwww…</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxvA5ugA47xCa2D4lexfY9dQDrhdPwV572TSa6joSkYf8jae-1N27afuzJ3Y7CVgpzeIeofgikZFbx_xOAqgbTXK1arwxCKLorHO6hLymnaLj43g4n8xp952PKtKp7Tv0kjM5fouBG2dS/s1600/IMG_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxvA5ugA47xCa2D4lexfY9dQDrhdPwV572TSa6joSkYf8jae-1N27afuzJ3Y7CVgpzeIeofgikZFbx_xOAqgbTXK1arwxCKLorHO6hLymnaLj43g4n8xp952PKtKp7Tv0kjM5fouBG2dS/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me (as a much muscular "Tom") and my cluster-mate. We became good friends.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIrakeldSHV8pnTdqk1x6JnthnrPh_akGCZfIvObdf8rqQ54wareYE__jnxzJ9ofmGtSlM0IlzmVv40dvGH7EcX9hIbKaUkZ5-ZHVvRWwB0HV7qyS-R6JegxY2Ss1kF7D1fNGDu8mMHJp/s1600/IMG_0104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIrakeldSHV8pnTdqk1x6JnthnrPh_akGCZfIvObdf8rqQ54wareYE__jnxzJ9ofmGtSlM0IlzmVv40dvGH7EcX9hIbKaUkZ5-ZHVvRWwB0HV7qyS-R6JegxY2Ss1kF7D1fNGDu8mMHJp/s320/IMG_0104.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first view of Georgian soil. It's VERY green.</td></tr>
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I don’t remember Orientation very well (even though what we “learned”
was later used against me when I accidently violated some whereabouts policies).
I can’t tell you what’s going on in these pictures:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf8jlkVdW9LvPKIEX8qjHu8DEZOThx-zNTzDh8teUEEckzA3QYxytZZXE2EvZiUS7CErn_aUdoG56lmsWQmQMz3-dLLGybiZYWaZSgiyyPSlOY7X2XgTyHUdZqV1V0-Yy-dREOGpPMqX8/s1600/IMG_0205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf8jlkVdW9LvPKIEX8qjHu8DEZOThx-zNTzDh8teUEEckzA3QYxytZZXE2EvZiUS7CErn_aUdoG56lmsWQmQMz3-dLLGybiZYWaZSgiyyPSlOY7X2XgTyHUdZqV1V0-Yy-dREOGpPMqX8/s320/IMG_0205.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Learning to play Backgammon (Nardi) was a lot of fun. This girl is REALLY good and she kicked my butt. I did take out my Nardi Vengeance in September.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIyaUAcbF41NAzJ4tD6gtDJvG0ESxVAPqTzJXVJMBdOZVXvH8Ht7bRCOeTtJOI47yyAmDR5cy5sg9ioYKpxKeJaFfKNoYPqjfZSa11-7-SxWB34AUBeCM4WsNTCcKKNZH25yjONWpM-y4/s1600/IMG_0211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIyaUAcbF41NAzJ4tD6gtDJvG0ESxVAPqTzJXVJMBdOZVXvH8Ht7bRCOeTtJOI47yyAmDR5cy5sg9ioYKpxKeJaFfKNoYPqjfZSa11-7-SxWB34AUBeCM4WsNTCcKKNZH25yjONWpM-y4/s320/IMG_0211.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There was a lot of studying. I believe I’m just trying to learn numbers 1-10.</span></span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFOcV0OptFQDPqI2IDm-5swwqaCU_QnMroov49lGttaVpXHGPfcetEai8uH2njqysBGYwy7WBkl6yvjctif6qQLdamaBTmTRlA_Gb5-B5LBBoFOq-qq7U5aKvEu-0K-KTiD4mO2T_fjfx/s1600/IMG_0237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFOcV0OptFQDPqI2IDm-5swwqaCU_QnMroov49lGttaVpXHGPfcetEai8uH2njqysBGYwy7WBkl6yvjctif6qQLdamaBTmTRlA_Gb5-B5LBBoFOq-qq7U5aKvEu-0K-KTiD4mO2T_fjfx/s320/IMG_0237.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">My three best friends (we didn’t know it yet, though). The guy on the left was really mean to me at first, too.</span></span>
</td></tr>
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This post is already WAY too long. I’ll continue it next
time with pictures from PST and then my first few months of service. Basically,
whether you’re a current PCV in Georgia, an Invitee, family, friends, or PCV in
another country—this experience is nothing we can explain to you in a 5-minute
conversation, e-mail, or blog posting. I cannot tell you everything I felt and
saw (even those first five days) in a way you will ever understand. You will
never understand the excitement, fear, euphoria, depression, anxiety, loneliness,
friendship, love, and adventure we have. If we sound negative sometimes that’s
our right. We aren’t miserable, depressed, or hate Georgia or Peace Corps. We
have good and bad days just like anyone else, but it’s on a whole other level
we will never explain. In fact, if you’re too positive we’ll probably make fun
of you a little bit—nobody can be THAT happy about bread and cheese every day
for 2 years.</div>
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So, as I look back, at the past 22 months I am left with a
sense of pride at everything I have (and have not) accomplished. Most of my
lessons failed, every club fell apart, but I’ve done so much, and learned so
much in the meantime. Even if I never did a real project, the personal growth I’ve
developed here will last me a lifetime. <o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-53374109106164304222012-02-09T13:43:00.002-05:002019-10-11T21:38:00.112-04:00The First Post of the New Year<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a long time since I’ve updated my blog. Funny to
think the last time I updated was last year. I have been meaning to write a
blog post for a long time, and I’ve had the time to do it, but I just haven’t
felt the need to update. Nonetheless, I do understand my blog isn’t the most
entertaining thing to read, but I think I should let people know what I’m
doing. I owe everyone, especially considering all the help I’ve received from
people for my fitness club.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I should let everyone know that I got all $1800 funded
through Wide Awake. So, THANK YOU! In fact, I had only planned on $1000, and
the extra $800 was a real surprise and will help us achieve our goals. The town
is fixing the room right now, and they stripped away all the paint and put in
new electrical sockets in three new places (I was only hoping for one, but they
surprised me). Now they are patching the holes and getting ready to prime and
paint. I went to the sports store in Tbilisi and found almost everything we
wanted to buy. I decided to trade out some pieces of equipment in order to get
higher quality. For example, I don’t see many people using a bench press, and I
am worried about kids being in there, therefore I probably going to try and get
two treadmills, or something along those lines. Nonetheless, I’m certain that
within one month we’ll have our equipment in the room. At that point it’s all
about getting everything translated on the machines and then making my healthy
lifestyle/fitness lessons. I’m hoping for PCV assistance and presentations in
that phase. Still, I’m very excited.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve also been going to school here a lot more since
university is on break. It actually got me thinking about how much I miss teaching
kids instead of adults. I love being in the classroom, and although I don’t
normally enjoy teaching English (I prefer History), I really like planning
lessons that let me students hit the “Ohhhhh” moment. That “Ohhhh” moment is
rarely reached in History class (it’s not that kind of learning), and it’s nice
to be there. Unfortunately, my first day back a student asks my counterpart
“With Tom here again, are we going to play games again?” I don’t think that
comment made me counterpart very happy, and it doesn’t make me happy either. I
don’t want students or teachers thinking that’s what I’m about, because I’m
not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, the winter is upon us. This winter is definitely
worse than last year. There is more snow and it’s considerably colder. I mean,
not as cold as it is in Ukraine or Czech Republic, but still cold. Last week I
was at a conference in a town near Tbilisi. I was asked to lead a session on
teaching multi-level classrooms to G-11s and their counterparts. I was there
for a few days, but on the way back our bus kept getting stuck and we got into
Tbilisi much later than we were supposed to. Back to the conference, I was
happy with my session, and many counterparts and Volunteers came to tell me
that they enjoyed it. Better yet several counterparts told me they were going
to use some of my ideas in class. That’s something every instructor likes to
hear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am somewhat surprised that my last post seemed to make
people think I wasn’t returning to Georgia. A bunch of people who read my post
from when I was in the USA thought I wasn’t coming back. I’m sorry that it
created any frustration, but I hadn’t seen my home in 18 months and I was just
happy to be home. So kill me. Firstly, I’m doing some great things here, and I’m
actually hitting my groove as a Volunteer, and I’d be stupid to leave. I would
be especially stupid if I decided to leave, especially with only 5-6 months
left in my service. It’ll be an exciting, fun, and busy rest of winter and spring.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m also aware that a large number of G12s have received their
invitations to serve in Georgia. I’m hoping that while they look through posts
from me and other Volunteers that they understand there are good and bad times
to be had in Georgia—just as in the USA. Also know that when you receive your
invitations we are in the middle of winter, and few of us can always be
positive. It’s not that Georgia is a bad post; of course there are good things and
bad. I generally keep my frustrations to a minimum on my blog and focus them
more in my personal journal. One of my friends suggested I write entries when I’m
upset, but only post them after I leave Peace Corps. That way I would be able
to write something and post everything when I’m no longer a Volunteer. Then
people can read the positive and negative posts together and get a more
accurate view of my experience in Georgia. I think instead I’ll write a few
posts at the end of service and describe my negative and positive experiences
together. I guess we’ll see when the time comes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m looking over everything I’ve written now (not editing,
because even with grammar mistakes, I want to keep my writing honest and
without rethinking anything) and I think this is prime time to end my entry. I’ve
also heard some funny comments that I end my posts abruptly Therefore, here it
goes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE END! <o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-17813159174219391672011-12-24T20:28:00.003-05:002019-10-11T21:37:59.421-04:00Home<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: What’s your name?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Tom.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: How old are you?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: 25.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Are you married/have kids?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: No.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Why not?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: [Random answer, and usually depends on if I want to joke
around or act annoyed]<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Do you like Georgia/Keda?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Yes, I like Georgia/Keda very much, it has beautiful
nature, and the air is so great.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Do you like Georgians<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Yes, they are very generous and hospitable people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Q: Which is better America or Georgia?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A: Both are great.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess all I really mean is:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u>IT’S GREAT TO BE HOME!<o:p></o:p></u></b></div>
Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-47383382782765825772011-12-21T11:26:00.002-05:002019-10-11T21:37:59.985-04:00Going Home<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I may or may not be returning to Georgia on the 5<sup>th</sup>.
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…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-90369777414991510762011-12-08T14:11:00.002-05:002019-10-11T21:38:00.824-04:00Teaching Woes<div class="MsoNormal">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.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">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? <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">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 <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maya-lau/what-the-peace-corp-taugh_b_1099202.html">article</a>. 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).<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">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. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here’s me refusing to let me be a failure!<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nakhvamdis! (Goodbye)<o:p></o:p></div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4932534857004369527.post-26689107207052173822011-12-05T13:42:00.000-05:002019-10-11T21:37:59.643-04:00Marshutka Monday Part DeuceThis 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.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>"Marshutka Pre-Flight Announcement</u></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">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:</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzqdDoe8FoM&feature=related" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=hzqdDoe8FoM&feature=related</a></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">And it's highly likely that every Georgian driver would have one of these.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pl4plPGRG8o" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=pl4plPGRG8o</a></div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">And should the driver ever decide to include a pre-flight introduction or speech, it would closely resemble the following:</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">If you are feeling queasy from the overwhelming aroma of haven't-showered-in-three-<wbr></wbr>weeks BO, combined with vodka-on-the-breath-of-the-<wbr></wbr>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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">On this trip there will be no complimentary drinks, snacks or pillows. You are traveling like chattel. Adjust your expectations accordingly.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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.</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">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! :-)”</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; margin-bottom: 0in;">No Joke."</div>Tom Lyonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00269581214323978399noreply@blogger.com0