Fire Safety

I thought about writing about the issue of fire safety at my school months ago, but decided it would be better to wait.  This way, I would not worry my mother.  You see, she has asked me several times if I know the schools plan in case there is a fire.  She asked me this only knowing that the school used wood burning stoves in every class for heating.  I didn’t feel the need to point out the other issues that made me doubt my safety and that of all the students if the school ever did catch on fire.

The day I seriously started to worry about what would happen if there was a fire was a cold day in November.  I was done with classes for the day and sitting in the teachers’ room talking with my co-teacher when she told me I could go home.  It was in the middle of the lesson so the halls were pretty empty, but I was not the only one trying to leave the building.  When I got to the main doors they were locked and we had no apparent way out. 

It took nearly ten minutes to find someone who had a key to let us out of the building.  The concept of doors you can open from the inside but not the outside hasn’t occurred in Akhaltsikhe yet.  I understand that they lock doors to keep people out during classes as to not disturb all the learning that is going on. But, because there is a window missing above the door, I have seen students who are locked out boost each other up over the door and come in through the window.  Locking the door only keeps the undetermined people away.

So, not only was there a wood burning fire and a lack of water in most rooms, the doors were all locked, leaving no easy way out.

Apparently, a few weeks ago, as the weather was starting to get warmer, someone else realized that the school was a major fire hazard.  The doors are no longer locked.  Also, the school was littered with papers showing the fire escape plan.  Consequently, I wasn’t that surprised when a short time later, in the middle of my 4^th grade lesson about Halloween, we experienced our first fire drill.  In fact, it almost went along with the theme of the lesson.  I was talking about haunted houses and then we pretended that the school was burning down. Why we are now reading a book about Halloween in April I can’t explain.

Anyway, the fire drill went very smoothly.  Everyone exited the building in a calm and rational way.  It was not the single file line-go to your assigned places so your teacher can take attendance-fire drill that I remember from school, but it wasn’t too bad. Once we got outside, no one knew what to do.  Still, I feel slightly safer knowing that the school has a fire plan. I still worry a little bit about other building issues, but I feel pretty safe at school.  

Ten Things Georgia Has Taught me

1.     You don’t need to speak to people to love them.

2.     It would be easy to be a vegetarian.

3.     Kids are kind of the same everywhere.

4.     You don’t need money to be rich.

5.     How to pee in holes in the ground, (All though I do a good job of avoiding them).

6.     How to avoid eye contact with all people walking down the street.

7.     As much as I like any food variety is what makes eating enjoyable.

8.     How to choose my clothes based on what smells the least.

9.     To eat raw garlic and enjoy it.

10. To shower only once a week and accept that I only shower once a week.

Who Wants to Play Doctor?

First I really hope I never have to go to the doctor in this country.  I don’t think the health care here is bad, and plenty of people live to a what by any countries standard would be an old age despite the constant smoking and drinking, it’s just the health care is a little different. The hospitals don’t seem like sterile environments, windows are missing and everything looks at least 50 years old.

But now I am not going to talk about the health care system in this country, which of course needs help, as most people would think about every country.

What I am going to talk about is when my host little sister came to me and asked me to play doctor of course I said yes. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to at the moment. I thought one of us would be the doctor and the other one would be the patient.  She brings out a doll and says one of us will be the mom and the other one the doctor.  She then goes and gets many medical supplies that are no longer needed. I have a lose understand that someone died and now they don’t need these things. 

She takes out a glass vile and files off the top. She starts mixing powders and such. Then spoons this mixture in the dolls mouth. My host mom sees us playing and says we are good doctors so I know what she is doing is okay. Then she moves on to another vile and files off the top. She uses and syringe with a needle to draw out the liquid and give the doll a shot. I honestly have no clue what we were shooting in to the baby but I am thinking contact with what ever it was must not be harmful. Shortly after the shot we put together an IV bag and filled it with water, we had the baby on a water drip. This was one sick baby doll, but we cured her and it was fun.

Snowballs, Mink Coats, and Surgical Mask

These three things may not seem to go together, but they could all be seen in the halls of School Number 2 on Monday.  

Sunday night was the first big snow of the year here in Akhaltsikhe.  Monday morning I wondered if school would be canceled if they did things like cancel school here because of snow, but I realize canceling school takes some form of mass communication, that I just don’t think they really have in place. Most students walk to school anyway, so it’s not like the bad roads would put them in harms way. Canceling school for snow here seems silly, but it is logical that they shortened the school day in December because the sun was not up early enough to have class at 9, in a building where most the classes don’t have lights.  

So you have probably already guessed, the snowballs are coming from the snow. The students would have snow ball fights in the middle of the halls, the halls are not heated and the snow would not melt, no one was stopping them, so why not?  To me it was interesting to see my first indoor snow ball fights.

I also find it weird that so many of the teachers were wearing mink coats. Mink coats on a country were no one has money? Sure, why not?  The teachers make less than the equivalent of 200 US dollars a month. You don’t need money to buy things, I have a feel bartering works for payment and people pass things on. It just blows my mind to see teachers wearing minks in a hall where snowball fights are taking place.

So now on to the surgical mask, which could also be seen at school. The flu has been quite rampant here so many students and teachers are wearing surgical mask. The mask seem to be worn by the people who are already sick as to prevent it from spreading, not by the healthy people to keep from getting sick.  I don’t understand why saying you have a party to go to is a good reason to miss school, but having the flu doesn’t seem to be a reason to have to stay home.

So if you ever wonder where you can see people in mink coats wearing surgical mask, having snowballs thrown at them look no farther then the hall of School Number 2 in Akhaltsikhe.

Appropriate School Behavior?

I understand that all schools have different rules; I thought some things were pretty standard. But, now it would take something big to shock me. I have been here for a little while now. I don’t really remember all of the things that surprised me when I first started teaching at the school.

 As I have said in the past, my school has two different sections: Russian and Georgian. From what I have seen, the way the students behave and the way the teachers act differs greatly between the two sections. Most of my experience is with the Georgian sector, which does seem to be a little more laid back and far less structured than the Russian section.

            I work with III form through XII form students (8 to 18 years old) and I really don’t have a favorite class. Each has its ups and downs. Some things are consistent throughout all the grades.  For instance, homework seems optional. The same two or three students always do it in each class. There is really no consequence for not doing your homework. We go over it in class and you can write down all the answers if you want them, or you can just sit there and listen. More than once I have heard the excuse, “I had to go to a party last night so that is why my homework is not done.”

            The attendance rate, by both students and teachers, is much lower than I would estimate it is in American schools. By IX form, coming to school seems even more optional. I lost count of the number of times I have gone to teach the IX form class to find the doors locked and the students gone. They normally do come in the morning, but between classes they leave and don’t come back. Sometimes they say they forgot they had anymore classes, even though the schedule is the same every week.

One time I did see the entire XI from class get in trouble for skipping school. I remember the day that they skipped I was told they were probably all hung over because the day before had been a holiday. The school director came in and started yelling in at them in Georgian. Of course, I didn’t understand. Several students stood up and then things (such a keys and metal padlocks) were thrown at them. They all did a good job of dodging the looming flying objects. After the school director left, my co-teacher told me that they were in trouble for skipping school and as a punishment they all had to clean the schoolyard.

            The skipping school incident was not the first time that I saw the school director yell at students. The first time I thought her yelling was even a slight under-reaction to the situation. I was standing in front of the IX form class when she walked into the room and called out a boy’s name. He came to the front of the room and she started yelling at him and pushed him one time, not very hard. He just put his head down. At the time this was happening I did not understand and thought this was pretty harsh. After she finished yelling at him, he simply went back to his seat. I actually don’t know if that was his only punishment but it seemed like it. When the director left, I was told that the student had beaten up one of his classmates and that the classmate was now at the hospital. Then class went on as normal.

I guess teachers do normally just look the other way when students are rough housing in the hall. And almost everyday I take away a book or a ruler because a student is hitting another student pretty hard with it. This just seems to be normal.

            Georgia in general is a culture where most people drink heavily and most men seem to chain smoke. Drinking and smoking starts at a very young age. When I told one class about the age laws in the U.S. regarding drinking and smoking, they said that was enough of a reason to not travel to the U.S. My students have asked me to get drunk with them, to which I replied I don’t drink more than a few drinks at a time (having a few drinks in this country is not really optional but I will talk about that in another entry).

I have never seen students drink in school, but that would not surprise me at all. I have seen students light cigarettes in class and try to hide them under there desk. I found these attempts humorous. They did not get in trouble. They were simply told to put them out. Smoking in the bathrooms seems to be okay, though. The bathrooms have no main doors and during breaks there are always groups of boys smoking by the windows.

            The VII form Georgian class is one of the smaller classes, and apparently has a reputation among the teachers as being a crazy class. I was told it is not just one student but the entire class that causes problems. I had not been to the class in a while and I was led to believe that was because their behavior was slightly embarrassing. It was my first time in the class in about two weeks and the students genuinely seemed excited when I walked in.

Later in class, I was standing in front of the students talking about when, in English, we call it a watch verses when we call it a clock and how an alarm clock is still a clock because in Georgian they are the same thing. Then, all of a sudden, from the center of the class, there was a large boom and spark. Someone had set off a firework.

The other teacher stood up and said, “Sorry Meghan. Give me one minute.” The class was going nuts, and I was left alone with them. One student told me to hammer on the teacher’s table to get their attention. When I did that they all just clapped and cheered for me. I eventually got them calmed down and in their seats. Then they asked me if I could teach them a new game. I said no and told them that only good classes get games. Then I attempted to go back to the discussion about clocks when the other teacher came back in with reinforcements, including the head teacher and the VII form’s homeroom teacher.

The students all stood up to be yelled at. One girl went over to all of the coats, picked up three, brought them to the front of the room, and emptied out all the pockets. Inside were tons of little firecrackers. During this process, another girl kept apologizing to me and telling me that I could sit down. She even moved her chair for me to sit in. I had to turn away from the class because I thought the whole thing was very funny. I don’t know if there was any further punishment other than the confiscation of the fireworks. After they were done standing and getting a lecture, the class was basically over and I was told again that they are a bad class.

            None of these things might seem that abnormal for seasoned American teachers. I even told a teacher here that kids in America are the same and the only thing different is that teachers’ reaction and American school buildings tend to be a little nicer. 

(group of students in a class posing for a picture)

(looking out a window at school)

International Club

Some days it is a little frustrating. I don’t understand the people around me and I wonder what I am doing here. Then, I show up at school and I am greeted by shrieks of “Hello Megi!” and “Good morning Mega!” My mood is immediately uplifted. 

One Wednesday afternoon I was handed an invitation to a club meeting. Two English teachers had been talking to me about coming to their clubs, so I was not surprised when I was asked to come. But, the formality of the invitation kind of surprised me. A note was hand written on a Cinderella card asking me to come, the following day, at one-thirty in the afternoon.

(My Invitation) 

            Thursdays are my shortest day at school in terms of class time. The last class I teach ends before noon. But I didn’t mind waiting around for a while in the teacher’s room for the meeting. The organizing teacher came in at one-thirty and asked me to wait ten more minutes. I said of course. An hour later, I was on my way to international club.

I was the special guest, along with the school director,is like the principal, and who, from what I can tell, is second in charge--kind of like the principal and vice principal. I was informed that the subject of this meeting was going to be the state of Virginia, in particular the town of Fairfax, because I was the special guest. I was such a special guest that students tried to sneak in a pretend they were part of the club, but they got kicked out before the meeting officially started. The teacher also said sometime along the lines of, “We know our special guest will stay the whole time.” I am sure that, sometimes, by their standards, I do things that are probably considered rude. But, I don’t think I would get up and walk out of a meeting where the subject is in my honor. Through the entire meeting I had a smile on my face. I just couldn’t help it.

            Each student had memorized something to say, but they tried to act like it was all just things the student could recall. The teacher would ask a question, and one student would raise their hand and come to the front and say something in English that was obviously memorized. The topic of the meeting included the economy, history, geography, and climate of the state of Virginia. I did learn some things, such as the fact that Virginia has an average of five tornados a year, and that it rains somewhere in Virginia, on average, one-third of the year. 

I was surprised that they found enough information for five different students to talk about Fairfax. They talked about things such as the Chocolate Festival (I was glad I could say that I have been).  I also learned that Northern Virginia Community College is the second biggest community college system in the U.S. and that George Mason used to by part of that system. A boy actually made me a handout about the Colleges in Fairfax. I really didn’t know these things-- who would have thought I would learn them in classroom in Akhaltsikhe, Georgia?

After all the students had presented I was asked to say a few words about the climate, but they had covered is pretty well so, I just pointed out on the map where the different regions were located.  

(This is a picture of a picture of me speaking to the Club)

Making Khinkali

One Sunday, my host grandmother was in the kitchen cooking up a storm, which is typical when she comes to visit.  I was feeling guilty about being lazy so I looked through my phrase book and attempted to ask how I could help.  My younger host sister went to the phone to call someone who speaks English to give me an answer. The answer was “You can do anything you wish.” The grandmother then took off her apron and put it on me, I tried to say that wasn’t necessary, but how could I refuse.  We were going to make Khinkali.

Khinkali are meat filled dumplings that Georgians would say every good Georgian woman knows how to make. How many Khinkali you can eat is basically a measure of one’s manliness (as is how much alcohol one can drink).

(the dough)

              By the time I was in the kitchen ready to help, the grandmother had already ground and seasoned the meat and started to make the dough.  She wanted me to taste the meat. So far on this adventure this may be the first time I have been rude enough to turn down food. She had a wad of uncooked meat on her finger and she tried to shove it into my mouth. I had to turn this down; I am just not sure I can handle that much raw, unknown to me, meat.  I have adjusted well to unpasteurized milk, and the apparent optional refrigeration for many foods I think should be refrigerated, but I have to draw a line somewhere.  My line is unidentified, raw, ground meat.

(the meat)

(the rolled out dough)

So now I was in the kitchen, dressed to cook, and told I could do whatever I wished. My lack of Georgian was not a huge problem in helping in the kitchen. In fact, my nine-year-old host sister got kicked out because she couldn’t do it right, and I got to stay.  We kneaded the dough, that’s pretty standard and the same for many things. It always reminds me of my college pottery class, even though I was cooking before I ever took that class. 

Next we rolled out the dough, and turned a glass upside down to cut out the circles that would be used to hold the meat.  On every circle we spooned some meat mixture. I am not sure I can use words to describe how they are folded together. I was never told with words, but just shown.  You pick up an outer edge of the circle and press it together little by little with the dough right next to it, until you have completed the circle, and have a little knob on top. Then you hold it by this knob with your thumb and pointer finger, and make circular motions with your wrist. Then the khinkali is formed.

(stirring)

(finished products)

            After all the khinkali were made we gently placed them knob side down in highly salted boiling water.  Stirring occasionally with the handle of a wooden spoon--spoon end is too big and could break them open. My understanding was that they are done when they float.  After they were done we feasted. They are great with a little black pepper. They are finger food. They are very juicy. And you don’t eat the little knob.