So I’ve reached a new low point here in Georgia - well not really, but what else can you call cursing out a bunch of old Georgian women on the marshutka? Don’t worry, I kept it all internal, not that cursing out loud would’ve mattered since not a single soul on that bus spoke any English, but I still held back from voicing it out loud to many a witness. After all, I didn’t want to thenceforth be labeled a ‘tsudi gogo’ (bad girl), not a reputation you want in a small countryside village. My frustrations simply reached that point I think we’ve all experienced on occasion in life where no matter who you are or how anti-profane you typically are, nothing quite captures your mood other than dropping the f-bomb several times over. Cursing a group of old women isn’t something I typically find myself doing vocally or in my head for that matter so let me explain what brought me to this point of sheer frustration. (As a sidenote, I realize this circumstance isn’t really that big of a deal, and the people in my community are only looking out for what they think of as in my best interest. This frustration is more-so a compilation of circumstances in this country over a 6 month period). Since my arrival, there has been a general view in my community held by young and old alike of me as a doe-eyed, helpless American girl who apparently isn’t capable of functioning independently in Georgian society in any facet. My students are still astonished to find out I know the Georgian alphabet, which I had learned within 2 weeks of being in the village at most. Neighbors will talk about me to my family at which point they will inform said neighbor I can speak some Georgian and I can also understand a fair bit. There’s this overwhelming sentiment however that I’m completely helpless in this community, which I don’t know if it’s just because it’s me, and I’m an extremely self-dependent person, I rely on myself and myself only for a lot of things in my life (maybe to a fault), but this common belief drives me crazy! Is it not a given that someone who travels independently halfway around the world and lives in a country of a different culture and language is probably relatively independent and capable of handling themselves to a certain degree? But I digress, back to my marshutka ride -- I was heading home from a day at a cafe in Kutaisi, where I go about once a week for internet. I’ve done this ride numerous times since way back in September and I’m very comfortable doing it. Usually I get out at the bottom of the hill and walk up the street to my house. Typically the marshutka continues on down the main road to a designated stop then turns around and drives up my street directly passing my house. I usually get out earlier and walk because I like the exercise and also walking to my house gets me there a little faster. Well this particular instance I decided to bypass walking and stay on the marshutka. Well, it turns out this particular driver wasn’t going that usual route and instead made a right turn. One of my students on the bus informed me (I wasn’t paying attention, just listening to music) so I told the driver stop. Every woman on the bus said no, no, and rattled off something in Georgian. I said it was fine, that I would walk, but they insisted I stay on. I knew the route we were taking, I knew it would pass the church close by my house, and I assumed all the ladies meant for me to get off there. For driving this road is atrocious, honestly like most of the roads, you get jostled around a lot. As we’re driving I’m thinking the whole time how I should’ve just gotten out and walked because I think the time it would’ve taken me to walk from that point would’ve gotten me home in the same time it took to drive to the church. Meanwhile, I hear all the women talking about me being an American girl not knowing Georgian (which is ironic given that I understood what they were saying) and giggling about my predicament, which had this grinding my teeth in frustration effect. We reach the church at which point I get up to exit. All the ladies start saying again no no, while I’m saying yes yes, I’ll walk, it’s fine. They keep insisting and in hindsight I wish I’d have just said no, I’m getting out, I’m walking, stop the damn bus, but I let these Georgian women dictate my actions so I very reluctantly sat back down. As all the women continue talking about me and giggling about how I don’t know any better this is the point at which I find myself cursing them all out to the extreme (once again, it’s all in my head). I couldn’t help it. I reached a point where I was tired of all these people who didn’t know me at all trying to tell me they know what’s best for me. We continue on from there up the hill on this same atrocious road until we reach the turning around point. Now all passengers have exited but me. We reach the church, again, about 20 minutes later (driving at 3 mph on bad roads doesn’t really get you anywhere very fast after all) at which point he takes the turn leading to my house and a few minutes later I’m home and the most ready I’ve ever been to step off of a marshutka, wanting desperately to just scream out loud, but holding back. Overall, I believe that what would’ve originally been a 5 minute walk to my house, became a 30 minute jostling marshutka ride all because these Georgian women decided that I wasn’t capable of walking that extra distance home and in their minds it made more sense for me to sit on a marshutka for an additional half hour. I guess what this all comes down to is I’m so ready to no longer be treated as a child, and that’s what I would chalk all this frustration up to. I am viewed as a child in Georgian society and I have to say it sucks. When I leave on the weekends to meet up with friends, that escape feeling I have isn’t because I’m so sick of my family or my village, it has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that I’m escaping this view of me as being completely dependent and helpless. For a brief time I have those adult responsibilities that believe it or not I’ve really come to miss and realize how much I enjoy having them. So for those of you yearning for those childhood days of having no cares in the world and prefer complete dependency upon others, then I have just the experience for you.
On a happier note, this week at school went very well and now I get to look forward to the weekend. I hope however I don’t have a repeat of that marshutka ride upon my return tonight to the village. We’ve had great weather here this past week, I spent part of my afternoons sitting on our back porch in the sun and I also introduced Givi and Tiko to the frisbee. Right off the bat both of them were better at throwing it than me. Spring has started cropping up here as well and becomes more and more noticeable with each passing day. Trees that stood bare all winter are adorned in white flowers, the hillsides are blanketed in lush green hues and yellow and purple flowers seem to be blossoming in yards everywhere.
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