Georgian “Maybe” Time

Hello all!

As of yesterday I crossed a milestone: I have been in Georgia for 2 months now. For the most part, I am still in the honeymoon phase. My students are still cute, my host family is still in awe of me, the weather is still shockingly warm, and the language is still intriguing. However, there is one aspect of Georgian culture that I have found extremely frustrating, especially these last few weeks: Georgian’s don’t make plans, and when they do, they are never communicated to me.

As you may recall from my last post, I was told I would be going to Batumi this weekend with my host family. However, when they weekend arrived it was dubbed “too cold” for that, and despite the fact that I had dropped all of my other plans that weekend in order to go with them, that was the end of the conversation.

Yet here I am, on December 1st, in short sleeves

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a certain amount of spontaneity, especially when traveling, and I ended up having an above average weekend in the village. I even managed to find a pair of jeans, one of my biggest draws to Batumi, at the Sunday Bazaar in town. I even got to try them on! Though my “changing room” was really just my host sister holding up a sweater to hide the lower half of my body as I stripped in the middle of the bazaar. I got to see my host sister and her classmates perform music, dance, and comedy at the local theater on Friday. I visited the river with Salome on Saturday and crossed a super sketchy bridge. Seriously, it had entire chunks missing where you had to just straddle the re-bar on either side to get by.

I mean, that doesn't look safe or inviting a all!

I mean, that doesn’t look safe or inviting at all!

Saturday night, a bunch of the extended host family came over for dinner, including my three Georgian cousins whose ages and demeanors coincide with my brothers back at home. We had a nice meal and they sang Georgian folk songs which I bobbed my head along to. Then, so as not to leave me out, they started singing “Jingle Bells” even though the only words they knew were “jingle” and “bells.”  Sunday was the bazaar, which was, well bizarre. I was so happy to find jeans that fit me, and so shocked that there are more people than I thought in my district. They definitely make it a priority to show up to the Bazaar and stock up on Turkish coffee, bread, and mandarin oranges for the week.

and this is just the produce section!

And this is just the produce section!

So, yes, the Georgian tradition of “maybe” worked out for me in this case, but every other time has been pure frustration. For example, my school has NEVER bothered to tell me when we have a holiday or, like today, when we’re rolling back our entire schedule by half an hour. So, I wake up grumpy, get myself presentable, and show up to an empty school looking like an idiot.

Hello... anybody there?

Hello… anybody there?

Or, there’s the entire 6 weeks that I lived in fear, wondering if my contract would be extended. I allowed for a bit of uncertainty there, because TLG was adjusting to the wishes of a new minister of education, but I was still annoyed and nervous, unable to make plans for my future. Eventually, my request was approved (THANK GOODNESS) and in the email I was told I had less than 24 hours to accept or reject the new contract. Okay, where was that urgency before, when I was stressing myself into thinking I was going home 6 months sooner than I had planned?

Today, though, I got pretty snippy with my co-teacher when my Birthday plans, which I was really excited about, had to be canceled in place of something that she dropped on me. Apparently, we have to give a presentation to the minister of education on Monday showing how we work together and such. While I agree that this is not something I should miss, I was told it would be on Tuesday a few weeks ago, before I made plans to go to Mestia for my Birthday, which would require me to take a holiday on Monday due to the distance and transportation schedule. Most of my friends did not extend their contracts and are leaving the following weekend, and did I mention it’s my Birthday? Needless to say, I was PISSED that I would have to cancel for the ONE PLAN in Georgia that cannot be changed on a whim because I was previously told the incorrect date.

At least I still get a cake... at home in the village...

At least I still get a cake… at home in the village… (this is my friend Daniel’s cake from his Birthday two weeks ago).

Cultural differences can be fun, and I have been blown away by Georgian hospitality, among other areas where I find their way of life enviable. But the complete lack of planning or communicating plans has been very hard to adjust to. I suppose I shouldn’t have been too surprised, since I arrived in Georgia only a few weeks after starting the application process. I remember hearing a joke about “GMT” or “Georgian Maybe Time” at orientation, but now I know it was not a joke at all. I will try to remain calm as decisions around me are made and cancelled quickly and without notice.

Now, if only I can manage not to hyperventilate as I wait for my Christmas vacation itinerary. I am supposed to be flying to Europe in less than two weeks, but still, I have no ticket. The TLG last minute saga continues…

-Kacie Riann

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  1. Middle of Nowhere | A Washingtonian in Georgia

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