From TWIG T-Shirts to Pantsuits

Summer did not start exactly as I had planned it to go. As a graduate student at the University of Washington, I now follow the quarter system and thus get out of school in June instead of May. The plan was: go home for two weeks and then head back to Georgia where I would start my internship at the U.S. Embassy promptly on June 22^nd. But that did not happen. I was waiting to receive my security clearance and while waiting, June 22^nd came and went. 

I waited and waited and waited, all the while growing more impatient and more frustrated. I went into near panic when the State Department said if I did not hear back by July 18^th, well then, my internship would essentially be forfeited. By June 28, I was near desperate and discouraged, despite assurances by my cousin that in the world of government bureaucracy, I still had plenty of time. Luckily, I was able to work at the camp I have worked at for the past eleven years – what was supposed to only be a one-day visit turned into a three week gig, thus making it year number twelve. If I did not have TWIG Day Camp, I do not know what I would have done, I think I would have gone crazy at home waiting. Over the years, this camp has been a lifesaver in more ways than one. I will always cherish the summers I have spent as a counselor at TWIG. 

TWIG (Together We Influence Growth) Day Camp's founding principle.

I received an email from the Embassy in Tbilisi on June 29^th stating that I could defer my internship until the fall if I did not hear back before the deadline and while it gave me some hope that maybe I could do my internship after all, I was not too thrilled about pushing it back. It would have really thrown a wrench into my plans to graduate next June, not to mention my apartment in Seattle, my loans, and where I would have been able to live come next summer. It was not a very feasible idea.

Tuesday, June 30^th started like all the others had since coming back to Chicago, with no news. As I was getting ready to leave for camp, I decided to check my email for the third time that morning.

And there was the email. Cleared.

I decided to head to my vacation house in northwest Illinois for Independence Day with my parents and pets before I left, since I would not get much chance to see them for the rest of the year. Three days after that and I was on a plane headed east over the Atlantic.

Not two hours passed after arriving in Georgia before I was greeted with my first “adventure” abroad. My suitcase safely arrived in one piece, an Embassy driver picked me up no problem, we found the apartment where I would be staying with no difficulty, and that is where my trip without a hiccup ended. I stuck the key in the door, turned it, heard it unlock, turned the knob, and nothing. There was another key and another lock, I tried it and had about the same success. My driver tried; no luck. The guard came up and tried. No. We all could hear the door unlocking, but it would not open. I knocked, rang the doorbell, and called my roommate all to no avail. Finally, I gave up and went to a hostel downtown where I had stayed before and knew the owner well.

Keep in mind that pretty much all flights get into Tbilisi in the middle of the night. By the time I arrived at the hostel, it was close to six and the sun was already coming up. The prospect of sleep sounded good, but that was not to be because just as I arrived and had gotten somewhat settled, Tatiana, the owner of the hostel, came to me and said someone called asking for me. My roommate. Tatiana sprang me a cab and I trekked back to my apartment and was able to get in with ease. Turns out the door had been deadbolted. 

Tbilisi sunrise (my first morning back)

Welcome to Georgia.

My apartment is tripped out with more locks than I even imagined possible. In fact, the entire apartment has amenities that I hadn't believed existed in Georgia: smoke detecter, a fire extinguisher, and a dryer. All of these things are fairly common in America, but not here in Georgia. In addition, the apartment itself is huge. It is several times larger than my apartment in Seattle. At only 420 square feet, my little studio apartment in Seattle can't even fit a couch and my hallway doubles as a kitchen. But this apartment? I will let the pictures do the talking: 

The foyer

Breakfast table

Kitchen

Two refrigerators

Dining room

Living room

Working at camp, attire had been a strictly casual affair – t-shirts and shorts (or leggings as a cool Chicago summer would have it – but the internship is strictly formal. I had prepared for this contingency back in December when I first found out about the internship and bought my first suit. If in the future I am in the career that I want, business wear will be everyday wear.

I really cannot go into the details of what I do at work, but I can say that so far I am enjoying it immensely. The days are long, but the hours flash by...most of the time. The first few days at the Embassy were slow, but now I have a lot to do and no time to lose.

In place of the details of what I do at the Embassy, I will give you anecdotes of my life in Georgia these past two weeks:

• There are fireworks almost every single night. I reason that it must be the same person because it is always in the same location and the fireworks seem to be pretty high grade. I would hazard that the person who is setting them off is not trained in pyrotechnics – as has become commonplace in America when handling that level of firework – but since this is Georgia, nearly everyone is “trained” in setting off fireworks. I remember New Year's Eve last year in Keda when nearly every household set off fireworks.
• Driving in Georgia is insane. This I knew, but it is still always amazing to see. Just yesterday as I was coming home from work, we were driving merrily along when another car honked at us. We were in the right lane, the driver in the left, and he was disgruntled at the fact that we were in the way of his right-turn from the left lane. Go figure.
• I live on a pretty busy street and live above a traffic light. Traffic lights in Georgia seem to give license to drivers to forcefully step on the accelerator when the light turns green, leaving me to wonder if I somehow am not really in Georgia, but am at the Indy 500 instead.
• The cost of living in Georgia is pretty cheap for an American. Granted, it is probably best not to spend money willy nilly, but even a po' graduate student can get by okay.
• Just as before, I have random Georgians calling me all the time. “Is Eka there? Eka!” “No, sorry, I don't speak Georgian.” “Eka!” “I'm an American-” “Eka!” This is when I usually hang up. This is pretty much what happens without fail, just substitute the name Eka with some other Georgian name and this is what 99 percent of my phone conversations with Georgians are like. 
  
  

  

  Balconies abound in Tbilisi.

  
  
  
  
  

  

  Tbilisi theater

  
  

  

  Tbilisi's Old Town

  
  

  

  A balcony in Old Town

  
  

  

  Old Town

  
  

  

  Churchkhela, a tasty treat of walnuts dipped in fruit sauce!

I hope this post has not been too boring for you, dear reader. Thank you for bearing with me. I will tell you that one year and one month after I left Georgia, I am back. It was never a question of if I would come back, but when. I don't think I expected to come back so soon, but here I am and I am thrilled. Georgia is one of my many homes. I have family here. If there is anything my Fulbright experience taught me is that you don't need to be related by blood to be family and you don't necessarily have to speak the native language well to have a place speak to your soul. All you need is an open heart.