A Song of Ice and Fire

Hello all,

My sister got after me a bit on Skype for my lack of new material on the blog lately. The hard truth is, my day to day life is largely the same, and there isn’t much to write about, or maybe there is but I am too entrenched in it to recognize that it might be of interest. I have a few things on the horizon that I anticipate will be blog worthy: a trip to Svaneti, the mountainous region; a visit from an American friend who is living in Paris; Easter in Armenia. Until then, here’s a quick post!

The title of this post is a reference to the book series by George R.R. Martin that inspired the show Game of Thrones. I am obsessed with both the books and the show, and in one week, the show returns for season 3. I have been so excited for it, devouring every preview and behind the scenes video, that I feel kind of pathetic. The thing about living abroad is that sometimes you just need something that reminds you of home, something normal, to get you through the tough parts. TV shows can be that for me: they’re on a consistent schedule, they’re in English, and I can feel like I’m a part of something that my American friends are.

BUT, that’s not the reason I wrote this post. I wrote it because we’ve had ice and fire in the village.

tovs

A mid-March snow was my first in the village. Go figure.

According to sister Salome, “March is always crazy weather. One day sun, next snow.” That has been more than true. Thursday after school I sat on the steps outside my house and read over 100 pages of Dostoevsky’s “The Idiot,” letting my tea go cold and soaking up vitamin D. Friday, my co-teacher texted me not to come because there were no students, it was too cold.

The snow was actually a welcome sight for me, since my pre-Georgia plans included harsh Caucasus winters, blizzards, etc. I have been fortunate to have a fairly mild winter, but I would have been disappointed had I never seen the mountaintops covered in white snow!

But then, there was fire.

Don't I look creepy?

Don’t I look creepy?

Salome is really fun, because she knows enough English that I’m not constantly confused, but she still says things in a funny way, which is always entertaining. Let’s set up the above picture by recounting a conversation we had.

Salome: Kace*, come outside, it’s holiday.

Kacie: Which Holiday?

S: It’s called (long Georgian word), it is Christian.

K: Oh, okay, what are we doing?

S: We have big fire. We burn bad souls.

K: That sounds like voodoo.

S: (blank stare.)

K: Never mind, why are we burning tires?

S: Tires? Oh the wheel, my father is wheel fixer for work, we have a lot old tires.

K: But burning rubber is bad for breathing.

S: But it makes bigger fire, better for bad souls go away.

*In Georgian language, all nouns end it vowels, even names. Because of this many foreigners will Georgianize their names by adding an “i” too the end of it. For example, my friend Josh is called “Joshi.” Despite the constant reminders that my name is in fact Kacie, most Georgian’s think they are being more culturally sensitive by de-Georgianizing my name and calling me Kace.

This weird ritualistic thing almost definitely gave me cancer, but it was really fun in a village way.

Anywho, I promise more exciting posts are coming. In the mean time, I am also writing more professional sounding posts for the Official TLG Blog, if you’re dying to read more!

-Kacie Riann

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