ცხენი

Secretly, part of the reason that I wanted to live in a village was the hope that a family with a farm might have a horse. I’ve really missed riding. While I understand that horses are expensive and that, as such, the odds of me ending up in a family that keeps one just for riding were slim-to-none, the absurd optimistic part of me still hoped. Of course, my family doesn’t have a horse. However, I did get a chance to ride!

Yesterday was rainy and cold for most of the day. I sat in the kitchen, writing lesson plans and such, while chemi bebia strung hazelnuts together. She will dry them over the fire for a few days, and then she will dip them into a pot of condensed grape-juice mixed with flour. The result will be a chewy snack for winter that Eka calls “Georgian Snickers.” Which reminds me that I should sometime write about the hilarious Snickers commercial that was on TV this morning. But before I get too off-topic…

Student that I am, I’ve very able to sit for hours and focus on work. Of course. However, after a day or two of this I begin to get antsy. The rain finally let up around 5 last night, and I got a text from my soccer/football buddies. I translated the gist of it: they wanted me to meet them at the bus station. Excited at the thought of a quick game (and actually playing this time!) told bebia where I was going and set off. However, when I got to the station, I saw my friends holding horses. Alex mounted his and cantered off as soon as I walked up, but Giorgi gestured for me to get on his. Since I had no way to communicate that I have a long history as an equestrian, he assumed I was clueless. So he helped me mount and then took the reins to lead the horse along.

We went and sat by the river, talking for a while as best we could. I’m somewhat fascinated by the way we sew together my handful of Georgian words, their three or four English words and a lot of gestures to build conversations that easily last hours. I’m speaking generally, too; it’s the same phenomenon with the teachers at my school. I feel like I learn a lot in these conversations, but I’m also really surprised to be making friends. They’re so patient with me!

When it got dark, I mentioned that I should probably be getting home. Being out is a tricky thing here. For as much crap as Americans get about being fat and lazy, I’m from the Northeast! We’re actually rather active! I’m trying hard to respect the traditional gender roles here and to fit myself to the culture as much as I can. But I need to walk and run and exercise a bit. As a girl, I get strange looks when I go around with all boys…but if there are no girls playing football than who am I supposed to play with?!

But I’m ahead of myself again. We started to slowly head back to my house (Alex and Giorgi live in another village). Giorgi’s horse was giving him problems; Alex got bored so he pulled me up on the back of his and we galloped back and forth across the Rioni bridge while waiting for Giorgi. I’ve always wondered how it would work to fit two people on a horse…in my head I forgot that the back of the saddle would be a problem. But I’m proud to say I didn’t fall (until he ran the horse into the other horse and we both toppled off over its head). At one point we stopped to let some young boys take turns galloping up and down the street. At another point Alex finally understood that I’m capable and independent (and blahblahblah the usual) and let me ride in front with the reins. Then he hopped off, leaving me totally alone, and I was surprised to realize how much I missed challenge of establishing a relationship with a new horse.

I had a quick canter, and then it really was time for me to go home. Giorgi held the horse while Alex walked me to my gate. And that was when the gender thing came up. Alex had cut his hands, and I was trying to communicate to him that he should wait while I ran inside to grab a couple of bandages for him. Chemi babua heard us and came outside to investigate. Alex greeted him…babua didn’t return the greeting. I didn’t catch the whole of the conversation, but I understood “Where are you from?” and “Do you know who she is?” He clearly wasn’t pleased. I wished so much that I had the voice to say “It’s fine! He was letting me ride his horse! None of the girls will come outside to play with me, but I promise these are ‘kargi bitchi’ (good boys). They won’t hurt me and I won’t embarrass you; I just want friends to play outside with!” But of course I still don’t speak Georgian. So instead I darted inside and joined bebia and Nona for tea. Babua came up after me, said something to bebia that included “bitchebi” and their town name, patted my head once and then sat down in front of the TV. I feel guilty for worrying him, for putting Alex in that position…all without actually doing anything wrong other than being unable to communicate.

The women from school all have husbands, parents and children to tend to. I’ve never seen girls my age outside unless they’re at the shop. It’s so nice to have friends and absolutely wonderful to be on horseback! I’ll have to figure out a way to normalize this “freunden von mir” thing. Navigating cultural differences as a mute can be a bit difficult.

And so today I’ve spent the whole day inside. Sitting in the kitchen. Bebia cooked while I studied, then we had coffee together. Then she cleaned while I studied (studying Georgian, of course) and then she went off to visit a friend. Nona came over and did laundry while I studied. Then we had tea together. Then she left. Then bebia came home and insisted I stop working to eat. She fed me, fed babua, and is now doing laundry while I write this. In a minute, I’ll go back to studying. I really want to take a walk, but after last night I don’t know how to propose it without worrying them. I can’t wait until Eka gets home from her business trip…she’ll hike with me!

I’m getting a lot of studying done though. And I wouldn’t worry so much about the family if I didn’t love them…I’ll figure it out…

One last note: I’m trying not to use everyone’s names because I don’t have the language to ask their permission to do so. I’m just going to keep referring to my host-grandparents as “chemi bebia” (my grandmother) and “chemi babua” (my grandfather).

Nakvamdis!