Jamie Gives Thanks

Today is Thanksgiving. I have never thought of Thanksgiving as a super exciting holiday. It mostly consists of preparing a large amount of food, eating a large amount of food, then slipping into a food coma for the rest of the day. However, this year takes the cake for the most boring Thanksgiving ever. 

I had 2 classes at school today. I didn't do any Thanksgiving-related activities with them, because in all honesty I forgot it was Thanksgiving week until yesterday. 

It was rainy and cold today, which has been the norm for the past few weeks. This creates a few difficulties. The first being that the streets are made of dirt and when it rains it takes all my effort to not slip and fall on my butt walking to school, not to mention trying to get to school with minimal mud on my shoes and pants. It has also gotten pretty cold. Yes, I'm from South Dakota, but in SD we have central heating. Here we have wood stoves. That's what they use to heat the classrooms at school and that's what we use in our house. Unfortunately, my bedroom does not have wood-stove capabilities, i.e. there is no hole in the wall to put the vent through. My host parents got me an electric heater, but this also has it's challenges. Namely, unless I have the fan on the lowest setting, and the heat setting halfway between minimum and maximum, it makes the electricity go out in the house. Even with the settings on high, it doesn't put out enough heat to actually be noticeable. But I have very warm blankets, and, since I turn my heater on when I go to bed, by the time morning comes around my room isn't exactly toasty, but it's definitely a comfortable temperature. So this just means that during the daytime, I can't get much alone time. I'm definitely getting my quality time in with the fam-damily, which can be difficult. The weather also poses some difficulties with laundry. I can leave my clothes on the line for days, and they will still be as wet as when I pulled them out of the dryer. So instead, I hang everything in my room, on my window sills, chair backs, open closet doors, and bedposts. The chairs surround the heaters, and my different pieces of clothing get rotated through.

So today was what I fear will be typical for my next 4 weeks (yes, only 4 weeks left, time is flying) in Georgia. I came home, ate lunch in the kitchen, where the stove was burning. Grabbed a book and my iPod and came back to the kitchen where I alternated between reading and playing Call of Atlantis or Tetris. After about an hour of that, my host mom came home and made us coffee, and fired up the oven in the living room. So then I switched to sitting in the living room and alternating between reading and playing Mah-Jong. Until the electricity went out and I was left in the dark with an almost dead iPod. At that point I turned to my cell phone, where I tried to beat my record at Snake. 

And now I am writing my blog. I probably won't be able to post it for a while, since my internet got taken to my cousin's house, and has not found it's way back for the past week or so. Which also makes it hard to work on my TESOL certification course, which would be a lot more productive than playing Snake. I have discovered wi-fi at my school though, so I can still check my email and facebook between classes on my iPod. 

[Update: Apparently my internet had returned from my cousin's house and had been sitting in the living room, I just hadn't noticed.]

Ok. Time to stop complaining. It is Thanksgiving after all. So here's what I'm thankful for this year:

-That I'm here. Georgia is a beautiful country and I've been able to travel all around it for next to nothing (my meager salary has surprisingly been covering most of my trips each month).

-That I'm spending 4 months living like a retiree. Let's face it, I'm not actually working hard. I have around 15 hours of classroom time per week. That's about the amount of time a retired woman would spend helping out at church each week. The rest of the time I spend reading. Not reading ethnographies, not reading Latin American short stories, not reading 16th century Spanish literature, but reading books that I want to read. And also getting pretty good at Snake. 

-I'm thankful that as I'm writing this, my host dad is sitting on the computer playing a game called Tumblebugs, and it is highly entertaining to watch a grown man do that. 

-That the people in my village have been so warm and welcoming for me. When you're having a bad day, the smallest things can make you feel a lot better. Examples: One day I went for a run, and when I was walking up to my house the old neighbor man, who had only been introduced to me once briefly and doesn't speak English, waved me over, smiled, and handed me half of a pomegranate. For no reason. Just to be nice. And yesterday, I had forgotten to bring my umbrella to school, and 2 minutes after I started walking home, it began to pour. I put up my hood and started booking it, but one of our neighbors saw me and told me to come inside. She pulled up a chair by the stove, brought me a glass of grape juice and a plate of churchkhela and I sat and dried by the fire, having as much of a conversation as possible, until they saw my host mom walking home and I went back with her. 

-I'm thankful for my students. I love the amount of Helloooo's I get from tiny Georgian children as I walk through the school. I love that 3rd grade Ani shouts at me from the other side of the hallway every time she sees me to say How are you? I love that my 4th graders come up to me every day after class to say How is baby? because my host sister told them about my new niece. I love that my 10th graders invite me to their civic club meetings, and invited me out to lunch in the restaurant in town, bought beer and khinkali, and refused to let me help pay. 

-Which brings me to my next point. I'm thankful for the experience I had at school while growing up. I'm thankful that we had computers, projectors, TV's, playground equipment, nice bathrooms, walls that weren't crumbling, chalkboards that weren't curling up and detaching from the walls, heaters, air conditioners, clubs, sports teams. I'm thankful for all our teacher's who somehow managed to not lose their minds and run screaming from the classroom. 

-I'm thankful for all my families. My "real-life" family in America (and a healthy new baby niece), my Georgian family, my German family - Regina, Toni, Tobi, Lukas and Carolin - who I miss very much, my Costa Rican mom Rosi who was a giant sweetheart, my Peruvian family in Mama Rosa's house and of course my sister Raquel, who I very much wish still lived down the hall from me.

-Now that I don't have access to them, I realize how much I'm thankful for cell phones and high speed internet which allow me to call or skype my family or friends at any time. 

-I'm thankful for the other volunteers here, who keep me sane :)

-I'm thankful for my dog Macy, who I miss terribly. 

-And for everything I've learned and experienced, and all the people I've met in the last 3 months. 

-I'm thankful that my bestie Kelsey just called me up from America!

Jamie Goes to Armenia

If you asked me what my top 5 countries to visit are before I die, Armenia would not have made that list. I have nothing against the place. In fact, if it weren't for Armenia, I would have no one to keep up with except the Jones's. (If you didn't get that joke, you need to climb down from your high horse and start watching some trashy reality television. You only live once, so you might as well spend at least some of that time living vicariously through uber-rich dysfunctional families, botoxed housewives, and celebrity has-beens). 

My point is, a few months ago, I probably would not have considered buying a plane ticket to Yerevan. Partly because I didn't know where in the world Yerevan was, but mostly because Armenia just doesn't scream "Come visit me!" However, being in Georgia, Yerevan is only a $20 train or marshrutka ticket away. So why not? And I must say, I was impressed. 

I got school off on Friday and Monday, and my friends and I grabbed the overnight train from Tbilisi on Thursday. We were seated in a compartment with a nice Armenian woman, who only spoke Armenian and Russian. To us, she only spoke Russian, assuming, despite our blank stares and shrugging of shoulders, that we understood everything she said. She immediately offered us fried potato cakes and iced coffee (sans ice). The compartment had beds for us, so after crossing the border and getting our visas around midnight, we turned in. 

We got to Yerevan quite early in the morning and grabbed a taxi to the Envoy Hostel (best hostel in the world - if you go to Yerevan and do not stay at Envoy, you are stupid, or you are rich and are staying at the Marriott or something, in which case that was probably the better move.) This began the tedious task of trying to figure out how much money we were spending on taxis, food, accommodation, etc. The currency in Armenia is the Dram, and 1000 dram is about $2.45, or about 4.50 lari. 

After a quick nap we went out to explore Yerevan. It's a beautiful city. It has a population of about 1 million. It seems fairly clean, there are some nice parks, good shopping, and as far as the restaurants go, there is some variety that is severely lacking in Tbilisi. Unfortunately, Taco Maco, which promised tacos and burritos, was not yet open for business. It's a damn shame, too. I could have used a taco. 

We made the short walk to the Cascade, which is a huge flight of stone steps leading up the side of a hill. The different levels of the steps have monuments and gardens, and built into a hill under the steps is an art gallery. When you get to the top, you see the monument commemorating the 50th Anniversary of Soviet Armenia. Once we got to the top, we went to a park down the street which led to the Mother Armenia monument, and a small and strange military museum. 

After that we went to the Armenian Genocide Memorial and Museum. This was definitely worth the visit. It was a very well laid-out museum, and was very informative and moving. The memorial was a stone structure built around an eternal flame in a depression in the stone. When we went there was music playing and white daisies and carnations surrounding the flame. 

Afterwards we walked around the city a bit, and at night we headed to a little cafe that promised live guitar music. The guitarist was a young Armenian woman playing Spanish guitar and singing in Spanish and French. On the way home we stopped in the Troll Bar. Because why wouldn't you? It was a little dungeon-like place decorated with medieval maps and Lord of the Rings posters. So pretty much awesome except for the awful music they were blasting. 

The next day was Education Day. We started out at the Matenadaran, which is the ancient manuscript museum. It had some really interesting manuscripts and we spent quite a while looking around. Then off to lunch. We found a shockingly cheap outdoor restaurant with good food (I had hummus, wiener schnitzel and Mexican coffee, whatever that was, for about $5). Then we were off to the State Museum of Armenian History, where we saw someone who was probably the president walk by us. He was being photographed by someone with a supernice camera and had 2 secret service looking dudes with him, so I'll just assume that's who it was. In the evening we went to an Armenian restaurant...because we were in Armenia and figured we should do that, and then went to a little cafe for a few drinks. After which I was completely exhausted and went to sleep because I am turning into a lame old person.

On Sunday we took the short trip outside the city to Echmiadzin, which is like the Vatican of the Armenian Church, and the former capital of Armenia. We saw a mass at the Mayr Tachar, which is the main cathedral, looked around the other churches and then met an American studying in Yerevan who had actually gone to the same college (and was in one of the same classes) as my friend Mary Ellen that was there with me. Small world! (Side note: Speaking of it being a small world, we talked to a woman from Canada who was doing a 3 month tour all around Europe with about 20 other people. She was staying at our hostel in Yerevan, and then a few days later, when I was in Tbilisi for my S. Korea interview, I ran into her again at a cafe and we had lunch together). We went on a trek with her to try to find the Surp Hripsime church which was built on the site where Hripsime was killed after she refused to marry a king, and it holds the stones in a little chamber in the back that apparently were used to stone her to death. Then we visited the museum at Echmiadzin where we saw a piece of the wood of Noah's Ark, the Holy Lance used to pierce Jesus' side while he was nailed to the cross, relics of various apostles, and pieces of the cross. 

We decided we should probably do something fun for our last night in the city, so we searched for the expat hangout bar Calumet. This was difficult as the entrance is sort of camouflaged into the street. We finally got there though, and hung out on floor cushions drinking Armenian beer. 

The next day we reluctantly headed to the bus station and caught a 5 hour marshrutka back to Tbilisi. It was a great trip, a nice break from Georgia, and I'm really glad I went. 

Jamie Makes Pancakes

During the first few weeks at school, I had planned on starting an English club. Each week would have a different theme. Film, games, cooking, dancing, cultural presentations... I've since learned that in Georgia, simple things require weeks of planning. Not necessarily planning, actually, that doesn't take long. They just take weeks before anyone actually carries them out. And I am completely dependent upon Georgians to help me carry out any of my plans. 

The film week, as I think I've mentioned, was a complete failure. So I moved on to cooking week. I suggested it to my coteacher, and she said she'd talk to the principal about it. About a week later, we discussed recipes, and decided on pancakes. About a week later she had me start teaching the vocab (flour, butter, melt, pour, frying pan, etc) in class. About a week later it was actually time to start making the pancakes. This delay had an actual reason. The oven, which I could have sworn existed and was in the teacher's kitchen had mysteriously disappeared. An entire oven. This makes me question my sanity a bit and wonder whether it was ever there to begin with, but the principal brought in one of those gas camping burners for us to use. Perfect! An open flame from a tank placed precariously on a chair at a perfect height for 3rd and 4th graders. That will definitely end well.

Finally the day came. I was informed I didn't need to bring anything (apparently my guest status has not worn off yet) and the kids were each assigned to bring a certain ingredient. During the 3rd grade's class time on Friday, they all marched in to the tiny kitchen and gathered around the table with their ingredients. The kids took turns dumping in the ingredients that I had measured out (although the concept of taking turns did not get through to a lot of them, so I had to fight off lots of little hands trying to grab teaspoons of baking powder out of mine). When we got to the sugar, I added the 2 tablespoons that the recipe called for, and was then told by my coteacher to add more, lots more. We ended up with probably 10 times the amount in the recipe. She also added vanilla powder for a little extra flavor. 

When it was time to add the eggs, I handed one to a little boy named Beka. He has a really hard time paying attention and sitting still in class, but he always gets super excited when he knows an answer and practically jumps out of his seat. Basically, he's extremely adorable. When I handed him the egg, the usually hyper Beka was all seriousness and concentration. He started to tap it carefully against the edge of the bowl, but the bowl was plastic with a rounded edge, and the egg didn't crack. He tapped again a little harder and a little harder, but still no luck. Just as I was about to offer to help, he smacked the egg down on the edge of the bowl and sent raw egg flying all around the table. He stared up at me with a guilty look on his face, holding out a slimy hand full of shattered egg shells, and I busted out laughing. It was definitely the highlight of my week, if not my entire semester here. For the rest of the eggs I decided to crack them myself, and let the kids pour them in. You live and you learn.

After the batter was made, we fired up the burner and the kids took turns pouring the batter. This was a bit chaotic, since they were all fighting over who would go next and crowding around the burner. While one pancake was cooking I would try to cut up the previous one and give each of the kids a bite. It was a little hectic, especially when the teacher would step out and I would try to keep 15 3rd graders under control while also trying to not burn the pancakes to a crisp. But we made it through, and the kids seemed to enjoy it. The original point was so they would have a fun way to learn the previously mentioned vocab words. I don't know how successful we were in that area, but there are a few phrases that I'm sure they picked up after 45 minutes in that kitchen. They are the following:

"Be careful!"

"It's hot! Hot, hot, hot!" - I'm not sure why, but I would always repeat it 3 times. They would then turn into little monkeys and shout "hot hot hot hot hot!" back at me

"You guys! Seriously! Calm down!"

"Wait your turn!"

"Stop grabbing!"

"No more pancakes if you don't sit down!"

"You guys are acting like a pack of wolves!"

"Don't your mothers ever feed you?!" 

Jamie Wonders...

How many pounds of grapes have I eaten since arriving at my host family's house in September? It would be interesting to know. Not only have I eaten them in their natural form, but I've also consumed a large amount of wine in my time here, in addition to churchkhela and tatara (a jelly-like think made from boiling grape juice and flour until it's thick). I'm guessing I've killed quite a few grapes. Good thing grapes are pretty much my favorite snack ever, so I haven't gotten sick of them and doubt I will. And I don't mind them in fermented form, either. 

How do they get mail here? The streets don't have names and the houses don't have numbers. I've never seen any mail, or any mailmen. Don't they get letters or bills from something? Phone bills? Electricity bills? How does that work?

Same for the trash. Where does it go? I've never seen dumpsters or garbage trucks in my village. Granted, people don't make a lot of trash since bottles are reused (beer bottle gets used to hold the homemade hot sauce, big Fanta bottles get reused for water or wine, etc.) and all the organic material is given to the pigs. But there's still some trash. I do see little fires on the side of the road quite often. Sometimes it just looks like they're burning leaves, but maybe trash too?

Why are marshmallows scarce or nonexistent in almost every foreign country I've been to? When they are available, they're a weird texture. Globalization would be much cooler if you could find Jet-puffs and graham crackers in every corner of the world instead of McDonald's and Coca-cola. In case you haven't put 2 and 2 together, I've been having a hankering for s'mores lately. 

How do you distinguish between skanky and conservative here? I was told dress was conservative, and in some ways it is. No off-the-shoulder tops. Skirts can't be too short. Necklines can't be too deep. I can't show my tattoos. At the same time, high heels are expected - no one wears flats, except me. Clothes can be much too tight. Women can wear way too much makeup (80's style, metallic blue eyeshadow, 3 times too much blush, and shiny pink lipstick). I've been asked by my host mom why I only wear a little bit of makeup, and by a 12th grader why I didn't wear any makeup (while I was wearing makeup). Shirts can be completely see through with just a bra underneath. What?? 

What does my host dad do for a living? He was always gone for the first few weeks here, and now I never see him leave? I have no idea if he has a job or not. 

And most of all I wonder....what are people saying to me all the time??

Jamie Watches TV

In the beginning, I would watch quite a bit of TV in the evenings with my host family. It was usually a Georgian news program, or a telenovela dubbed into Georgian. The telenovelas were frustrating to watch because I would be trying to pick out the few Spanish words that could be heard despite the dubbing in order to have an idea of what was going on. The news was extremely boring to watch, but did have the advantage of giving me practice with the Georgian alphabet, since I would be able to read and recognize the names of countries like Libya or Turkey in the corner of the screen. When the weather came on was when I would really test my skills at reading the names of cities before they would disappear in a few seconds, in preparation for future instances in which a marshrutka is barreling towards me and I have to quickly read the Georgian destination sign in the window to decide whether I should flag them down or not. 

A few weeks ago, my host family had some one come over and install some English language television stations, a very kind gesture on their part. Now I'd like to tell you about English language television in Georgia.

There are a few different stations that come in. The main ones that I watch are Russia Today (RT) and Deutsche Welle (DW). Besides that there's France24, which I watched once and was really bored by, a church channel, and a channel called Smile of a Child, which I've never watched, because it sounds weird. 

So let's talk about RT. It's based in Moscow, but has some programming coming out of London and New York, and most of the commentators are American, a few are British, and one lady has a really strange accent that I can't place. RT is mostly news programs. At first, it seems like a legit news station. It's got the really snazzy graphics and sets, but there's something that's a little off. The people. From what I gather, if you're trying to find work as a news anchor, but you keep getting turned down because of your lack of social skills, your obnoxious personality or your drug habit, try sending your resume to Russia. They'll probably take you. 

Meet Max Keiser. A former stockbroker, now hosting the Keiser Report, "a no holds barred look at global finance." During the first few minutes of seeing his show, he reminded me a lot of Norm MacDonald. He looks a bit like him, and has the same dry delivery and sarcasm. Then I realized there was a difference. Norm makes you laugh. Max makes you confused and uncomfortable. He never smiles, and he often goes on long rants that don't really make any sense. In one episode, he had a stuffed animal that looked like a sewer rat. I think it was a metaphor for Jamie Diamond or something. He used the sewer rat to talk about Jamie or whoever it was, at which point most sensible TV hosts (if sensible TV hosts would have the rat in the first place) would put it away. However, Max kept bringing it back. When the camera was on his co-host, Stacy Herbert (I'll get to her in a second), the rat slowly crept into the bottom corner of the frame. Hilarious, but also a little awkward. In another episode, he started talking in a robot voice. That, too, continued for much much too long. Stacy, is worse. Unlike Max, she is always smiling, in a weird, spacey way that makes you think she's probably taken a lot of pills before going on air. How does she deal with Max's crazy antics? By not even being aware of them in the first place, is what it looks like. Max will go on a 10-minute rant where's he's arguing with himself as two different characters in a very Gollum-esque style, and as soon as he stops, it will cut to Stacy, who with the same silly smile on her face, says "That's right, Max. And the New York Times reported today that...." YouTube it, it's worth it. 

Then there's Lauren Lyster. She has her own show, too, although I can't remember what it's called. Lauren is a smart lady. Which means she probably wouldn't need to wear ridiculously short skirts (I get embarrassed for her when she's sitting on a stool interviewing someone without a desk in front of her) and super low cut tops with a push up bra. She also talks like a drunk cheerleader at a frat party when she's debating with someone. "These policies are sooo NOT going to boost the economy! Like, whatever!" - OK, that's an exaggeration, but it's otherwise difficult to express the kind of obnoxious tone she uses in writing. It's also my theory that she has a rocky romantic past with one of her commentators, Demitri, who seems like kind of a jerk anyways. Because they always end up in screaming arguments with each other where you can't understand what either is saying, and you wonder whether you're watching a news show or the Jersey Shore. 

Other than that, there's a British news anchor with fascinating eyebrows. He's like a real life version of Johnny Bravo, and a foreign woman, the one with the mysterious accent, who looks exactly like one of the women on SNL. One of the new ones, whose name no one knows yet. 

In between shows on RT, there are little interesting bits about Russia. I'm learning a lot about the place. Indigenous cultures, sled dogs, reindeer, mostly things that have to do with extreme cold....

And then there's Deutsche Welle, a network based in Berlin. DW isn't as news centered as RT, so once I've caught the 20 minutes of RT news that will just keep repeating itself for the next  2 hours, I switch it over. The programs on DW are really varied and random, but usually interesting. There was one about a Scottish guy who fell in love with a German and moved to Hamburg, where he started a very successful hand-sewn kilt business. Another was about endangered frogs in Africa, and the German scientist trying to convince villagers in the reason to stop hunting them for food and to eat pork instead. Another was about a woman who gave up her baby for adoption when she was a young girl in the U.S. She never wanted to but the father pressured her to do it and she felt she didn't have another option. Years later, the son, who had meanwhile been adopted into a Jewish home, finally was able to contact his parents when he was like in his 40's, and he came to meet them in Germany. This was very touching, and I'm sure I looked like I was about to cry because my host mom looked at me strangely and asked me what the show was about. I never told her, because of course I don't know how to explain that in Georgian. During certain hours of the day, DW has German program, and the rest is English. Usually it's the same shows, just dubbed one way or the other. I like watching the German programming, because it helps me brush up on my German, and it also makes me feel good to know that I've barely lost it, as far as listening goes, anyway - speaking is another story. DW makes me very homesick for Germany, seeing all the little things that distinguish the country. The green and yellow bus stops, the perfectly landscaped gardens, hearing the sound of the language. This was why, the other night, I spent about an hour researching job prospects for English teachers in Germany. Which brings me to my next topic: The EU is stupid. It would be smart if I could get an EU passport that would allow me to easily work in Germany, Italy, Spain...As it is, I can't. And it's stupid. 

Jamie Speaks British English

Like most countries in this part of the world, the focus is on British English. Being not British, this presents a bit of a challenge for me. First of all, my English teachers can't understand me because all they hear is "arr rerr grrr irr reerrrr." Then I have to remember to talk like a Brit in order to not confuse the kids. After they've learned the phrase 'Have you got...?' I can't mess with their heads by asking 'Do you have...?' When they're learning time prepositions, I have to remember to say 'at the weekend' instead of 'on the weekend.' When I sing the ABC song, I have to remember to end it with 'Zed' instead of 'Zee.' Which is just silly, because it messes up the whole rhyme. There's trousers and knickers and trainers. Sweets not candy. Maths not math. And let's not forget. An eraser is not an eraser. It's a rubber. 

Jamie Goes to Supras

What's a supra? It's a feast where the host is expected to serve at least 3 times the amount of food and wine that the guests would possibly able to eat, and the guests are expected to eat at least twice as much as one would on Thanksgiving. 

At a supra, there is a tamada, who is the toastmaster. Why do you need one? Because in Georgia, you're not supposed to take a drink until you've toasted something. And that goes for every drink, not just the first one. That means, over the course of quite a few glasses of wine, you've toasted quite a few things. You've toasted parents, siblings, children, God, the church, Georgia, the deceased, specific people at the table, peace, and then you can go ahead and get creative. Your wine glass never gets empty, because someone is constantly going around and topping off all the glasses. Which means you also have no idea how much you drank. 

Some typical foods that are usually at a supra include slices of eggplant folded over and stuffed with a walnut paste, onions and pomegranate seeds, khachapuri, some kind of potato salad, bread and cheese of course, tomatoes, different meats, etc. Most of the time you get all these dishes at one supra, and probably more. The hostess is busy refilling all the plates of food as soon as they start to run low (hostess, notice, for anything regarding kitchen duty is not a man's job in Georgia). Everyone else is busy eating, toasting, drinking and smoking. 

Supras happen on birthdays, weddings, funerals, during harvest time, etc. Basically any occasion that calls for merry-making. Last night, we had my cousin's birthday supra. For me, this was one of the most interesting ones I've partaken in, because it was a stark contrast to an 18th birthday party in the U.S. Here's why. His mother, (my mom helped too) was expected to prepare food for roughly 30 people. This was a 2 day process. And remember the thing I said about being expected to prepare way more food than your guests could possibly eat? When you have 30 guests, that's a lot. The guest list was my cousin's entire 12th grade class, plus me and my family, plus family from the other side, plus 2 of the teachers, plus the school principal. Yep, the school principal, at your birthday party. Imagine that. Now imagine drinking with said principal at your birthday party. That's exactly what happened. The 12th graders had their own table in one room with the birthday boy, and the rest of us were in the other room at our own table. The 12th graders polished off quite a few pitchers of wine. As did we. Then the principal went over to their table to make a few toasts to them and have a few toasts made to her. The best part of the night was the dancing. They put on some traditional Georgian music and a few of them did some traditional dancing. I got a video of it, which I will upload to some social media site at some point in time when I have internet that is actually fast. It was pretty cool. After endless amounts of food (you thought an hour into it, it was over, but then they bring out the dolma for the first time), it was time for cake and coffee. They brought out plates of cake and chocolate, and I had a piece, noting that it was not the birthday cake, but different types of cake. I figure that this was because the birthday cake was not big enough to feed 30 people, and it would be saved for him and his classmates. Wrong. This was just the pre-cursor-to-the-cake cake. Then they put candles in the birthday cake, blew them out, and cut the cake to serve everyone who had already eaten cake more cake. At around midnight the teachers and principal started heading home. That's when I headed home too. Of course I couldn't walk the 200 yards by myself. I had to be escorted because otherwise I run the risk of being attacked by a rabid dog, according to my host mother, who for some reason thinks I'm 7. This is the same woman who wouldn't let me shower after the previous supra, because I'd drank wine, and according to her "wine trink, shkapi NO! [makes X with arms]" Translation: You can't take a shower after you've been drinking. Why? I question I've asked myself a lot since then. Here's what I've come up with. Because you might slip and crack your head open and bleed to death. Because you might fall asleep under the faucet and drown. Because you might think the shampoo is a bottle of wine, drink it all and poison yourself. Because showering while drunk is another of the many mysterious ways in which you can catch a cold that don't involve actual germs.