Today is “Giorgioba,” Saint George’s feast day. I have off
school, and I’ll head off to church in a little bit. But I’m very behind on my
writing. In part this is because I’ve been sharing my computer with our guests.
Usually by the time they’re in bed, I’m far too tired to write.
I’ve wanted to jot down many things. Like how lovely I found
the sight of frozen persimmons sitting on the stark white windowsill during the
blizzard. Or how bebia’s mother has laugh lines that look like wings, and how
I’ve decided that such regal wrinkles are something I should aspire to. How a 2nd
grader made me a very pretty necklace, how the 8th graders want to
teach me to dance, and how the 9th grade boys now tend to answer me
with “Kalo” (“lady” kindof)…
There have been many funny moments that I’ve wanted to
record, too. A few days ago, I caught babua staring at my fingers. He told me
that I have beautiful hands and so should get a manicure (aka paint my nails).
I laughed and asked what color, and he responded that I should get a French
manicure so that they stay close to their natural colors. I remember being in 5th
grade and being old enough to be socially involved but not old enough to be
able to afford (or allowed to attend) big parties. So my friends and I put a
lot of effort into braiding my hair, painting our nails, and changing our
earrings and lip-gloss often. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been able to display
my sociability by going out places and by hostessing, and I don’t pay attention
to how I look so much because my actions say everything I want known about me.
I notice here (where there is nowhere to go, there are few opportunities for
adventuring, and street behavior is as a rule conservative) that people put a
lot of care into their appearances and they love to host guests. I think that
there could be a kind of bell-graph made about this: people with few resources
display sociability by caring a lot about personal appearance, people with more
resources care less because they spend their time doing things, and people with
a lot of resources care a lot again…both because they want to display position
and because they have time to do so. Or maybe this is all nonsense…I have a lot
of time to think here.
Another funny moment (or, rather, two hours) was the day
after my birthday. I walked into both my seventh and eighth grade classes
pretending that I hadn’t understood the puppet-show the day before. I asked
them to explain it to me. At first, my co-teacher was translating everything. I
make a pointed joke about her not helping them, and she joined my
side—pretending that she didn’t understand so that they had to creatively use
the words they did know (and occasionally pantomime) to explain the story. It
was a lot of fun.
I’ve learned to make khinkhali and to sing two Georgian songs.
I haven’t figured out how everyone lights candles at church without setting each other on fire, but I have
learned that the priest—who is the father of two of my students—doesn’t like
women who wear pants. Oops. I’m learning useful vocabulary, like the words for
“snowflake” and “mountain” and “swan.” I’ve taught my host-grandparents “good”
“ok” “I love you, too” “only a little” and “goodness!” We’ve been busy.
For the holiday today, we didn’t have school. Instead, I
went to church and then had a snowball fight with our guests. As we walked home
from church, we stopped for mineral water. Then Giorgi drove past and we waved
him down SO we were able to hop onto his bus. He drove us to the synagogue and
our guests went inside to admire the beautiful painted ceiling. Having been a
few times already, I stayed outside and hoped that Giorgi’s friend would talk
to me so I could practice a bit of Georgian (I’ve been teaching a lot of
English lately and not studying so much myself). He didn’t, but a woman came up
and started talking to me. She was smoking and had a lot of make-up on…things
women don’t generally do in public here, so I was a bit wary. Soon enough,
everyone was back on the bus and we went home. Lasha and I went to the store to
pick up ingredients for blinis, and the rest of the night has been pretty
quiet.
Happy Saint George’s Day!
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