Why I Skipped this Election

Once, I wrote a paper on political apathy in college. Using lengthy words and complex sentences I analyzed why Americans are reluctant to vote.

Many years later, here I sit, paralyzed with work and responsibilities, unable to move my butt to the voting center. Political apathy washed over me.

It’s learned helplessness, you know. How many times have I gone, standing in line, crossing out everybody and for what? Some asshole gets elected anyway.

I am tired of having no position and no preference. I am tired of voting against everybody. I don’t know who is worse, Margvelashvili or Bakradze. As a matter of fact, if I didn't know who Misha is, if he were to appear for the first time, I would vote for him. We need a talking, energetic and travelling person. The position is supposed to be symbolic. He would do nice. Though I wouldn't vote for current Misha, after all the prison scandals, raped and nose-broken lovers, money-spending, partying, city “reconstruction” and media-controlling. Bye-bye, this is the end of our uneven, bumpy relationship. I have never voted for you, but others have, so you were my president regardless.

The only thing I know for sure is that Burjanadze is pure evil and Targamadze is a two-faced so-and-so. The only thing I care for is their loss. Please loose! Loose, I said!

I hate this situation so much that I am trying to avoid it. I skipped the debates. I watched the ads only this Friday – they were horrendous. I’ve seen better campaign in my high school in Utah. Low-quality footage, stupid slogans, hell, even the posters in the street are ugly!

The same speeches about unity, gay marriage (like that is even an issue), who did what and where, blaming each other, Burjanadze claiming men should resemble men and women should resemble women, this endless shit of meaningless words, god help us all!

And really, none of it matters, they won’t be able to fulfill half of their promises, since they do not hold such constitutional power! But nobody cares, since constitution is for sissies, and god knows, it all may change tomorrow and we will be stuck with Margvelshvili as an actual decision-maker and our military leader. Then what are we going to do?!

Honestly, I don't have time for their games. Where's my sand, I need to stick my head in it!

Giant facepalm.

Chasing Ghosts of the Ancient: Part 2

 I am in love with Turkey. I like the views, the people, the ruins, the food, I like relative comfort. The second day of our trip included all of that, as we rushed out of Erzurum (nothing too interesting) and continued our quest for ancient stuff.

Passing gorgeous mountains, we reached the Hahuli monastery, erected in the 10^th century, now serving as a mosque. The monastery is in the middle of Turkish village and  local teenagers rudely pestered us to buy candles. We refused, joined a group of French tourists, walked in, looked at the wall ornaments. We found a stream of water and I was so thirsty I drank it, despite the threat of becoming a lamb (familiar with Russian fairy tales? Anyone?). I am still alive.

We climbed down to more civilized roads, to a water dam, for a picnic of olives and Turkish bread. Life was good. Adventures all around. Afterwards, we toured Oshki, a spectacular basilica, the first one of four great Georgian churches: Oshki, Svetistskhoveli, Bagrati and Alaverdi. The three ones that stand on Georgian ground have been changed and remodeled several times, but Oshki pretty much looks like it did – except, it is on a verge of a collapse. The 11-century-old icons are exposed to wind and rain, the roof has caved in and one of the hollowed-out pillars is supported by a wood log. It is big, it is beautiful and it is devastated. Once more, our extreme nationalism and intolerance is harming us; Turkey and Georgia negotiated about reconstruction of three historical monuments – including Oshki – in exchange for reconstruction of an old mosque in Batumi. This was followed by national outrage…a mosque in Batumi, what for (maybe for all the Muslims that do not have enough space in existing one)?!…and as a result, Oshki stands orphaned and sad. Villagers build houses using its walls. Tragic.

Our next destination involved massive canyon, were rocks seemed to inhale us, crush us and eat us alive. Cliffs hanging over our car, brown, scary, looking like a crumpled cardboard, like old man’s skin…we took a long, unpaved, one-car wide serpentine road in the sunset, hoping to make it alive. As we reached the top of a very remote village, we discovered that the final point of our destination – the Ishkhani monastery- was closed for reconstruction. On one hand, we were glad that Turkish government decided to take care of the monument. Even in the dusk, workers kept busy. On the other hand, Ishkani has interesting 11-th century icons that we wanted to see. Thus, we risked our lives for no reason. We turned around and raced the remains of daylight to get off that scary, but thrilling road.

By the end of the day, tired and sweaty, we opted out of planned camping and crashed in a hotel in a small town of Usufeli. The room was cheap but clean. It was placed on a cliff and our windows directly overlooked the river that lulled us to sleep. Our journey was almost over. 

Pic: the lake where we had our picnic

Chasing Ghosts of the Ancient: Part 1

Officer at the Georgian border asked us if our tank was full. “It costs twice as much on the other side, you know”. We knew. We were equipped with personal and Google knowledge and maps and guides and GPS. The day 1 of our Turkish adventure, we left Akhaltsikhe behind us and ventured into Anatolia.

We soon learned that visiting every church, castle and ruins makes no sense. Too many of them. So we chose ones of historical significance. The first day we drove all the way up to Kars, looking at the fields of hay, mountains, horses and enjoying the wonderfully paved road.

Based on Pamuk’s “Snow”, we expected to find a town where depressed hotel owners don’t dare to walk the poverty-struck streets and scarf-covered women commit inexplicable suicides; instead, we discovered a cute little town, with its share of comfort.

The city was under Russian siege in late 19^th century and thus contains beautiful Russian/Baltic style buildings. As my hubby took out a tripod to take a pic of the governor’s house, secret police materialized and started inquiring about the nature of our pics.  I guess tripod meant spying, since no one minded our picture-taking before. Anyway, we promised to leave governmental buildings alone and resumed circling the old town.

The next morning we toured Kars Kale, a pretty impressive castle, looked over the city and old Armenian church of 10^th century, now turned into a mosque. We consumed a breakfast of baklavas and other carb-loaded Turkish yummies, replenished our supply of Turkish tea and drove towards Ani.

Ani was much more impressive than its descriptions. We just stood in amazement in front of the city walls for a while. We had hard time reconciling the ancient city with cows grazing at its gates, local children playing with dogs and our car in the parking lot.

Ani was established in 5^th century and by 9^th century it was a capital of Armenia.  It was big and prosperous, and according to Wikitravel, was known as City of Forty Gates and the City of a Thousand Churches.

No wander it was attacked by everyone with a functioning army, including our own Queen Tamar, who rebuilt it and made it nice and ready for the never-ending Mongolian attacks. Finally, the area was conquered by Ottomans and now their descendants charge 5 Lira for the entrance.

We walked around almost all day, looking at all the magnificent ruins, breathing in the 10,15,20 century-old sand. As we finally rested on the floor of an ancient church, one of the workers (the complex is being reconstructed) gave us some of his tea. This kind of hospitality followed us everywhere in Anatolia.

We drank tea, found a prehistoric Zoroastrian temple ruins, photographed tourist scribblings made in 1903, marveled and awed and picked up a hitchhiker. Cool and nice-looking (ahem), a teacher from Istambul, he talked about Turkey and we compared our countries. Turns out he just came back from Batumi and showed us a Borjomi bottle in his backpack as a proof. We parted ways - he was going to see some sultan’s castle by the sea. We were headed towards Erzurum. We still had a shitload of ancient churches to behold.

To be continued…

P.S. the pic: Me stomping the ancient ruins

Summer's Almost Gone

We came back to work and we got immersed into pending issues and I so don’t want to do it. The feeling of vacation and freedom lingers on.

This is like a fresh start and a billion of issues surround my head. Stuff at work. Trainings I am taking in Gestalt therapy. Trainings I am supposed to do for the Ministry. In Vitro fertilization on the horizon. Some translations I took on. Selling our apartment. Buying a new apartment. Taking care of my country house documentation. So many things rained on my head. Decisions to be made. Energy to be spent.

Doctor’s visits, apartment excursions, the billion challenges at the Ministry job. This poor blog just hanging in the air, nobody touching it.

I am anticipating several months of chaos and non-stop work, including every weekend for the 2 next months. This is what happens when you open an Inbox account and get a fever of depositing money. Can’t decline additional jobs now.

This August, I have to write about my August, I need to tell you about the unusually nice weather in Batumi, about bike trips, about all-night clubbing, I need to tell you about the prettiest McDonald’s, I need to tell you about a lemon tart in Fan Fan…

I need to tell you about our 5-day road trip, how I lay in the car with my pillow and my blanket, looking out the window, reaching out to the mountains, eating Turkish desserts, drinking Turkish tea. I need to tell you about magnificent Georgian and Armenian monuments of 10^th-12^th centuries. I need to tell you about billion little castles peppering Anatolia.

I need to confess my love for Turkey once more.

 Visions of Kars, Erzurum, Usufeli… Ani, Artanudji, Oshki…my hubby at wheel…our loyal green Honda…the miracle of straight, paved roads…

I need to tell you about last weekend that we went with a telescope, moon and herbal treatment by the campfire. We made smores! Smores!

The hormones I am taking. The drowsiness and stupidity overtaking my body and my mind.

Hi, friends and lovers, hi everybody who is still with me! Thanks for coming back! Thanks for reading again! I will be back, hanging out my posts for your observation, every weekend or every Monday morning, complaining about my life that I secretly like…

Hey, hang in there, New Year’s vacation will come sooner than you think.

Back to life. Back to reality.

Where will we be, when the summer’s gone?  

The pic: oh, sunny days on the green cape.

Summer Vacay

I'm out doing nothing till September.
Please come back in 1 month.
Have a nice August guys!

Kittens and Love

The second performance of our Vagina Monologues took place yesterday and it was awesome. Some boys did leave, but everyone has a right to free expression unless they hurt others, right?

I am alone in the office, co-workers gone. And I am feeling peace and calm and quiet and I am truly happy, happy like I haven't been for maybe  last quarter of this year.

And when you're happy, you attract happy things, even from the evil, gossip-spreading Facebook. This is what I've found and decided to share with you.

Thank you http://cavnews.wordpress.com/2013/07/16/21-pictures-that-will-restore-your-faith-in-humanity/  you are the one who put up this pics and I hope my readers will come visit your blog.

21 Pictures That Will Restore Your Faith In Humanity

Posted on July 16, 2013 by cavnews

1. This picture of Chicago Christians who showed up at a gay pride parade to apologize for homophobia in the Church.

(Michelle Gantner / Maladjusted Media) 

… and the reaction from the parade.

(Michelle Gantner / Maladjusted Media)

2. This story about Japanese senior citizens who volunteered to tackle the nuclear crisis at Fukushima power station so that young people wouldn’t have to subject themselves to radiation.

Source: bbc.co.uk

3. This picture of two Norwegian guys rescuing a sheep from the ocean.

4. This sign at an awesome bookshop.

Source: helsinki-syndrome.tumblr.com

5. This poll about what Snooki should name her child.

6. The moment in which this Ohio athlete stopped to help an injured competitor across the finish line during a track meet.

7. This exchange between a 3-year-old girl and a shopping center.

8. This note that was handed to a waiter along with a $20 bill by an elderly lady in his restaurant.

9. This sign at an awesome Subway restaurant.

10. This picture of a villager carrying stranded kittens to dry land during floods in Cuttack City, India.

Image by Biswaranjan Rout / AP

Image by Biswaranjan Rout / AP

11. This sign at an awesome drycleaner’s.

12. This photograph of a man giving his shoes to a homeless girl in Rio de Janeiro.

13. This picture of a firefighter administering oxygen to a cat rescued from a house fire.

(TOM BAUER/Missoulian)

14. And this one.

Image by Chris Butler / AP

15. This interaction between a Guatemalan girl and a tourist she just met.

16. This gesture from a neighbor.

17. These photos of two children collaborating to rescue a dog who had fallen into a ravine.

18. This note on a young family’s check.

19. This exchange between a protester and a soldier during a protest in Brazil.

(Imagens/ TVBA)

20. These pictures of a man jumping into rough waters to rescue a stranger’s Shih Tzu in Melbourne.

Via: news.com.au

21. And this photograph of two best friends on a swing.

I Love Georgian Service: Part 2. The Conditioner

How many Georgians does it take to change a light bulb? Legion is thy name.

Here is the chronicle of how we were getting an air cooler…

First, we had to decide that we truly need it. Then, the management had to decide that we truly need it. Then, logically, the logistics co-worker had to figure out where to buy it, how to buy it, invoices, prices. And then, at last, at that blessed day of the last Monday, the air conditioner arrived.

We rejoiced and danced tribal dances around it. Our happiness was short-lived. Alas, nothing last forever, even fondest moments of life. Some part of the goddamned air cooler was in conflict with another part, peace between them—unattainable and that’s how the conditioner guys left us.

They promised to bring us the missing soul mate part on Tuesday. They promised to bring us the part on Wednesday. They promised to fucking bring us the part on Thursday. By Friday, we evaporated; our aimless, overheated bodies floated over the desks and computers and the sweat dripped so much that it later condensed to a huge cloud and rained on the whole city.

They promised to come on Saturday. They promised to come on Sunday.

My co-worker called them on Monday. And they…promised to come on Monday.

I called the service center on Tuesday. They said the part was in the warehouse. I called the warehouse. They promised to bring the part that day. Having heard that, I started having convulsions and foam dripped from my mouth. Stuttering, I asked them to be honest and  name the day of the week they may actually show up. I told them that this was an office and that we leave at 6.

Afterwards, I stayed late in the office. That almost never happens. At 8:00 P.M., I heard a knock on the door. The conditioner guy brought the part. Our logistics person rushed in soon and looked surprised at me. I was in the office, alone, with a conditioner guy. Cue porn music.

Apparently, all 12 people that he has been calling about the conditioner called him to inform him that THE MISSING PART was in the office. So he rushed to it. Anyway, they brought up THE PART and they left. And they promised to send guys that would put the cooler up, well, you guessed it, next day. According to some secret air conditioning code, the guy that brings THE PART cannot be the guy that hooks it up.

The morning in the office started as usual today. After watering the plants and making coffee, I habitually called THE SERVICE CENTER. Be warned that no one answers till noon. At noon I told the girl that if we don’t feel the cool breeze on our cracked, dried-up skins by 4, I will call again. At 3:30, nothing indicated that they would, you know, come. So, I called again. No one at THE SERVICE CENTER could understand why was I so mad. They said they would come. What else could they do? Except maybe repeat it one more time.

The conditioner silently lay on the floor, all of its parts intact. I gave up fruitless attempts to work in a drenched T-shirt and started typing this post. And then…oh my god, I can’t type it straight…my emotions are taking over…and then…they came….they came…they actually came!!!

Now, a week and two days after its purchase, just a week before we leave for a month-long vacation, these guys are trying to put it up on the wall and I am afraid, god, I am afraid that some part won’t work again and that they will leave, leave me forever.

The company’s name Vestel, by the way.

P.S. the pic: the miracle conditioner