Just an ordinary day...

It snowed all last night, but this morning the weather was clear—if cloudy—just long enough for Eka and I to have our morning stroll. When we got back to the house, we sat down for pre-breakfast coffee and cake. She outlined our day: we would clean my room, clean the kitchen, shower, eat, study PowerPoint, and then go and visit her grandmother. I agreed and then excused myself to my room to change clothes…and to pre-clean.

When I came back from Ukraine, I found that she had very thoroughly cleaned my room. My books were stacked in a different place and she had changed how my clothes were grouped in my drawers. It’s normal for Eka to decide to clean my room, and she insists no matter how I protest so I’ve just learned to pre-clean. Usually I straighten up before leaving for school each morning. She has the best of intentions (I trust) when she goes through my drawers and my books. Aside from having the whole everyone-knows-everything small town lack-of-privacy, I also have this situation at home. It’s…I can deal, but I’m glad I have nothing to hide.

The day didn’t quite go as planned. Eka started cleaning the kitchen and sent me to the store. I needed to pick up a few things anyway, because I’m cooking at school on Monday. I had to go to three stores to find everything on my list, but it was nice to be outside. By then the snow had started again and was falling in huge flakes. When I got home, I unpacked the groceries and made chocolate-covered-pretzels. Eka had already cleaned the kitchen and had moved on to my bedroom. Michael called and asked if I wanted to go play in the snow. What a silly question!

Being a skier, he thought to bring water-proof clothes. We dressed up like plastic penguins and then went to the soccer-field where there was lots of fresh snow waiting for us. We built a huge snowman in the goal. Michael estimated that our snowman-goalie was about 8’ tall by the time we finished. It was epic. We took pictures with it, and then Michael buried me and sculpted wings and a halo. Instead of making a snow-angel, I became one. One of his students showed up while I was buried. The boy traced Michael’s name in the snow and then brought us a carrot for the snow-goalie’s nose. Precious.

We returned to my house for coffee and a few games of chess. Which I lost. Then Eka strongly suggested that I go next in the shower, so Michael said good-bye and I went to shower. My hair has been getting really long. The first time I asked about getting it cut, Eka said the woman who cuts her hair could do it. Then she decided that I need a real hairdresser, so she said we would go to one in Tbilisi. The first time we were in Tbilisi, she went without me. The second time (when I was there alone), she had me stay with her family. I’ve asked Maguala a few times about cutting just the ends, but Eka always manages to throw some obstacle in the way. She’s admitted that she doesn’t want me to cut my hair because she likes it long. Finally today, I insisted that it needed to be cut. So she cut it. She barely took any off, but the dead parts are gone so I’m just going to be amused…and think about what would happen if I disappeared to the city for a weekend and came back with short hair.

After my hair-cut, Eka and I had lunch/dinner. Then we started to study PowerPoint, but we were interrupted by her cousin’s arrival. Giorgi—her cousin—had brought another Giorgi. This new guest is a Rachuli Tbilisi-dweller. At first, I was told that he’s a director. I thought he must do something with the government or schools or something. Then I was told that he’s an art specialist. I still was unclear what this meant, but he was nice enough and we went through the usual routine where a guest asks a nearby Georgian about my background and I answer all the questions. Eka and Maguala petted me and babied me. Then I was excused from our PowerPoint because the Giorgis invited me to follow them and Maguala. I didn’t know where we were going, but any chance to do something different is worth jumping on. Gio laughed as Eka fussed over my hat and scarf. In front on new guests, they fuss over me so that everyone can see how they take care of their guest. And what I little girl I am. I usually play along, but when someone interesting comes along and I want to have a grown-up conversation, I’m always tempted to pat Eka and Maguala on the heads, tell them what good children they are, and then focus on our guest.

Luckily, Giorgi wanted to practice his English. As we walked through the snow, he asked if I like the people here. I answered that of course I do, and then he surprised me by asking if there is anything that I don’t like. I thought for a moment and then answered honestly that I come from a culture where being a guest is about spending time with the other person. It isn’t that I don’t like the guest culture here, but it’s difficult for me because I want to spend time with people here but they just want to feed me…regardless of whether I want to eat or not. He said that there is a very aggressive guest culture in the caucus countries. He understood why I struggle with it, and he explained that it isn’t the culture in Azerbijan or Armenia so he doesn’t understand why it’s so strong here. It was a thoughtful question and a thoughtful analysis of my anwer.

By then we had reached the Resource Center and he was taking out his key. As I followed him and Maguala up to the theater room, I wondered what Giorgi is doing in Oni and why his conversation felt so refreshing. When we got upstairs, he pulled out booklets and set them on a chair. As he continued unpacking, I picked up one of the booklets. It was a script, and a decently long one. By then, he had finished unpacking. The Giorgis started choreographing a fight with some machetes, and then they asked if I wanted to learn. So I joined for a little while. We fought until other people started showing up. These people were all actors. Giorgi is a theater director (and an actor). He was at Keti’s show yesterday, and he wants to dedicate his upcoming show to her father. As people filed in, I asked what this play is about. He explained as best he could, then he asked someone else to explain in German. Then I watched the rehearsal, and the story feels familiar. Probably because I've been reading so many Georgian folktales...Maybe I'll be able to translate it in full at some point. Hope so!