What I regret

For the past few weeks I've spent a lot of time reflecting on my time in Georgia… wondering if I made the most of it; if I took advantage of all the opportunities I was presented with; if I soaked it up enough… something I'm sure every Volunteer around the world questions. Could I have done more? Sure. But I don't want to look back at my life and have any regrets or wish for any do-overs, and this experience is no exception.

I'd like to believe I experienced every minute of this journey – moments of incredible happiness, extreme sadness, and sheer boredom – for a reason, just as the saying goes. Yes, I might do things differently if I were to join Peace Corps again (and yes, the thought has crossed my mind!), but regardless of what I did or did not accomplish here, this was my experience and I'm proud of committing myself to the full 2 years. So this blog isn't a list of my regrets; it's a list of things I would do differently next time.

Be in the moment. There were days when I wanted nothing more than to pack my bags and get the heck out of dodge. There were days when I made up excuses why I couldn't go to a supra or on another excursion. And, believe it or not, there were days when I craved the rat race and 12-hour workdays. I assume most Volunteers have had the same feelings at one point or another, and I'm not sure there's anything anyone could do to avoid it. Living in another culture and out of your comfort zone is just plain hard. But next time, I would say yes to the supras, yes to the excursions, and yes to all things Georgia. I was here to experience the culture after all!

Georgian supra

Tusheti excursion

Do without. Thanks to my wonderful friends and family back home (and fine, my own online shopping addiction), I really haven't had to do without since I got here. I've had brownies, peanut butter, mac & cheese, new clothes, luxurious lotions, and so much more. I also bought a modem that allowed me to access the Internet every day, even during power outages. Don't get me wrong, I was grateful for the care packages, and very much enjoyed and cherished every bit of it. But next time, I would like to *try* to do without some of those items – if for no other reason than to be a little less American and know what it's like to want things you can't have.

Awesome care package!

Learn something new. Volunteers have a lot of free time on their hands – and I mean A LOT of free time. Before coming to Georgia, I had a long list of things I wanted to accomplish: learn Spanish, read the classics and train for a marathon, just to name a few. Of course, I didn't do any of those things. I also didn't learn any Georgian dances, which is a huge part of their culture. Next time, I would “just say no!” to the countless TV episodes and movies that are passed around, and do something a little more productive with my free time.

Georgian dancing

Stay offline. With free Wi-Fi popping up in all the bigger cities, and portable modems that allow access wherever you go, it was easy to stay connected. As a business Volunteer, I needed Internet access to research and submit grant proposals, connect with other NGOs, and develop trainings. And of course it was nice to keep up on the news, Skype with friends and family and, most importantly, stream football games. But on the flip side, being online kept me from enjoying other parts of my service, and often left me feeling extremely irritated and frustrated by all the complaints and pointless updates. Next time, I would greatly limit my Internet usage and instead, take advantage of the countless opportunities around me.

Gearing up for some Gamecock football!

Love thy neighbors. Too many nights, I walked home from work too tired to care what the neighbors were up to and definitely too tired to try to talk to them. But relationships are what have sustained me here, and sometimes I kick myself for not getting to know more people. So next time, I would spend more time with my host families, friends and neighbors, and a little less time in my room.

Georgian friends

Run Forest, run! Back home I used to think how nice it would be to have my mornings free to work out or go for a long run. Here, I had plenty of time to do just that, but something always kept me from doing it… the incessant staring, the massive potholes in the roads and crazy drivers who tried to kill me, the water outages (who wants to run if you can't shower afterwards?!), rain and snow, and my only legitimate excuse, a bum knee. Next time, I would just run – not only for health reasons, but also to keep me from losing my mind.

My running path in Kvareli

Talk the talk. Most of my frustrations stemmed from the fact I couldn't really communicate. I know enough to get around and have basic conversations, but having a strategic business meeting or in-depth conversation was never an option. Georgian is an extremely difficult language, but it's not impossible to learn. And, truth be told, I rocked this language during training! It's my own fault I stopped going to my tutor and never touched my language books after PST. Next time, I would make learning the local language my #1 priority. I mean, how effective can you be if you can't really talk about anything significant?

A beautiful but difficult language!

All of that aside, when I leave in nine days, I will leave knowing I tried my best and definitely enjoyed my time in Georgia. And maybe in five or ten years, I'll even be able to see what impact this experience had on me and more importantly, on Georgia and its citizens. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer will be with me forever, and that is something I will never regret!

What I learned

I have 25 days left in Georgia. I've written my description of service, updated my resume, finalized my projects, completed my medical exams (I'm happy to report I have a clean bill of health… no parasites, no worms, no TB!), and started packing. It's really coming to an end. I'm excited to go home, but I'm also very sad to be leaving. So I've decided to put off my goodbyes until June and simply enjoy the time I have left. The weather has been amazing, I've started running again, and I'm very much enjoying the fruit that has started to appear in the bazaar… strawberries, cherries, and these little mysterious black berries that are so sweet and delicious. Life is good in Georgia. 

Sadly though, this part of my life must end. It's been an incredible journey full of surprises. I've had some of the best days of my life here. I've worked on exciting projects, and have seen a million new places. I've made new friends and new memories. And I've learned a lot. Not only about myself, but also about my friends and family members, Georgians and Americans, and life in general. 

Over the past two years, I learned that… 

… I actually can learn a foreign language! After 4 long and discouraging years of French, I was pretty sure English was going to be it for me. But alas, I have successfully learned a language that is rumored to be more difficult than Mandarin, and I'm fully capable of carrying on decent conversations every day! Who would have ever guessed?! Not Mrs. Allen, that's for sure.

Georgian language class

… It really doesn't matter that I think pedestrians should have the right of way. Georgians don't. And if I don't get out the way, they will (and have) run me over.

… Americans truly are germaphobes. We wash our hands multiple times a day, shower at least once a day, only wear our clothes one time before washing, obsessively use hand sanitizers and wipes, sterilize anything that has fallen on the ground, and wash everything before we eat it. Not me. I've spread honey on my bread that was full of caramelized ants (and ate it). I've had countless drinks with dead fruit flies floating on top. I rarely use hand sanitizer except after riding public transportation. I shower 2-3 times a week. I wear my clothes until they are visibly dirty. I eat fruit that hasn't been washed. I fully believe in the 5-second rule (except it's kind of turned into a 5-minute rule). And I'm fine. 

… The Soviet Union wasn't the horrible, scary place we learned about in school. I'm not condoning communism, but, turns out people in the Soviet Union were happy. They had jobs, homes, money and a good quality of life. Some people actually yearn for those days.

… I love being an American. Before I left the U.S., I wasn't completely sold on America's greatness. Oh, was I wrong! I'm fairly certain now that it's the greatest country in the world. Yes, we have our problems and we seem to have a lot of them lately – but still, I love that we show up on time, form lines, give people their privacy at the ATM, and plan ahead. I love how we treat each other (mostly)… "thank you," "you're welcome," and "please" really do go a long way. Not to mention we open doors for each other, let others go in front of us when we're not in a hurry, and smile at strangers. I love that we have options. I love our freedoms. 

... I actually like being called a "good girl" by Georgians. It was a little irritating at first, but now I find it endearing.

… Less really is more. I don't have a closet full of clothes, the latest iPhone, or a fancy car – and I'm quite content. Living a simple life is easier in a lot of regards: there's no "keeping up with the Joneses," no rat race, no living outside your means.  

… Fitted sheets are ridiculously important to a good night's sleep.

No fitted sheets here!

… Americans complain. A LOT. Some of my favorite complaints on Facebook have been about traffic jams, lines at Starbucks, spin classes that were full, delayed flights, dropped calls, snowplows blocking the roads, hour-long power outages, and of course, your basic road rage. Those are what people call "first world problems." You should consider yourself lucky; not cursed. (And maybe curtail the "FML" statements, too. I'm pretty sure your life doesn't suck that bad.)

… It's really hard being the odd man out. I now have so much respect and empathy for immigrants trying to set up a new life in the U.S. It's not easy living and working in another country with a different culture and language. Maybe we could all cut them a little slack, just as Georgians did for me?

… I am resilient, flexible, unassuming and grateful for the days when most things work in my favor. 

… Most Americans think of luxuries as Bentleys, Pradas, and vacations in Tahiti. In every other country around the world, these things are true luxuries: air conditioning, central heating, insulation, indoor plumbing, running water, electricity, microwaves, ovens, dishwashers, refrigerators, cars, options and variety, school buses, the Internet.

My basic, but functional, kitchen

… Our public schools are pretty nice. Don't get me wrong, I think the educational system is extremely flawed, and don't even get me started on pay for performance, but overall, we have clean schools with trained teachers and specialists, countless resources (meaning chalk, markers, paper, glue), functional gymnasiums and playgrounds with equipment, libraries, indoor bathrooms, and running water. That's more than most countries can say.

Typical Georgian school

… Our government – while also flawed – provides a lot of great services for its citizens: public libraries, parks, paved roads, snow plows and salt trucks (and employees to do the work), garbage collection, street lights, and utilities. Yes, I know we pay for these services, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be grateful.

… My mom is the strongest, most loving, thoughtful, funny and amazing person I know. I'm so grateful that she was able to visit me in Georgia and experience a little of my life here. And I'm grateful that she has taken care of my cats for 2+ years. Thank you, Mom!

Mom!!

… The mysterious black berries that I mentioned before are mulberries! I don't think I've ever had a mulberry before. I highly recommend them. 

… I'm proud to be part Georgian. Despite my struggles here, it has truly been an honor to immerse myself in their culture, to live among them and to be accepted by them.

My beloved Georgian family

But most of all, I've learned that I'm lucky. I live in the United States of America. I speak the world's preferred language. I received a free quality education (save your SC jokes, please). I have amazing friends and a supportive family. I've always had a warm (or cold, depending on the season) house to go home to and food on the table. I'm healthy. And I've had incredible opportunities in my life that most people only dream about. Thanks to this experience, I now know just how lucky I really am. 

The start of it all... orientation in Tbilisi, April 2011

P.S. No part of this blog was intended to offend my fellow Americans. As I stated above, I am very proud to be an American. I've just learned to laugh at all of our ridiculousness. :-)

Georgia spells opportunity

So much of my blog (if not all of it) has focused on my experiences here… the people I've met, the places I've visited, the challenges I've faced, and the life I've built. While all of that has been important and fun, I wish now that I had taken the time to write more about my projects and work. That is why I joined the Peace Corps, after all. So now I'm going to brag about one project in particular that I've been working on for the past year: The National English Spelling Competition.

Shortly after arriving in Georgia more than two years ago, one of my friends and fellow Volunteers, Adam, came up with the idea for a country-wide English spelling competition — one that would reward students and teachers for their hard work and celebrate their achievements in a public forum. He started working on the event in the fall of 2011, along with four other PCVs. For several months, they met with Georgia's Ministry of Education, the U.S. Embassy, Peace Corps Georgia, and several other organizations whose support was needed to make the project feasible. I joined the project the following summer, when they realized they were going to need help with the marketing. 

This project turned out to be bigger than anyone expected and required a lot of work. Everyone had their roles to play: we needed a database, website, registration forms, rules, word lists, volunteers, venues, dates, funding, etc. I served as the marketing & PR specialist. I created promotional and sponsorship flyers, designed certificates for the participants, wrote website copy and press releases, managed the production of the program guide, and provided sponsorship support... you know, exactly what I was doing before I joined the Peace Corps. And no, I didn't miss the irony there.

Gus was able to secure sponsorships from the top university in Georgia, a credit union, and World Vision, along with support from countless organizations and businesses. Our Georgian friend and counterpart, Ilia, was able to secure a venue, transportation, food & lodging, entertainment, and design & printing services for the national event. Even my dear friends at Fixation Marketing chipped in to help by generously donating their time to create the event's logo.

Finally, after a year of planning, the competition was announced in September 2012. Within a few days, more than 50 schools had registered! By the end of the local level competitions that took place in late October, more than 170 schools and 2,460 students had participated, which far exceeded our expectations. Several weeks later, more than 1,000 students from nine regions across Georgia participated in the regional level competitions. It was obvious how excited the students were at these events. There were shouts of excitement and tears of disappointment as they were tested on their knowledge of the English language. At the end of the regional competitions, 34 students had fought hard and earned the right to compete at the National Competition. 

On March 30, the finalists gathered in Tbilisi to compete for the title of National English Spelling Competition Champion. They competed in two groups: 8th & 9th grade, and 10th, 11th & 12th grade. I really wasn't sure what to expect since this was the first year of the competition, and the first time these students have ever participated in an event like this, but they absolutely blew me away! I have to admit… they were spelling words a lot of us — native English speakers and college graduates — didn't know how to spell. Words like verisimilitude, asphyxiate, kaleidoscope, and xenophobia were not challenging to them whatsoever. It was truly impressive to watch and several times, I was literally on the edge of my seat! Following the competition, the U.S. Ambassador hosted a special reception at his residence to recognize and celebrate everyone's accomplishments. It was a memorable evening and the perfect ending to an incredible day!

This project required a commitment from thousands of students, teachers, volunteers and organizations and I'm proud to say, it was a huge success. That's not to say we didn't hit a few speed bumps here and there, but in the end, it was a great event. The students had an amazing time hanging out in Tbilisi; the teachers were beaming with pride; the judges were honored to be a part of it; and the sponsors were thrilled. A new group of volunteers has already started working on next year's competition with the goal of making this an annual, sustainable, Georgian-led event. 

As for me, I'm very proud of what we accomplished. I was able to use my marketing skills and even managed to get published in the Peace Corps' magazine World View! I had a lot of fun working on this project and watching the kids celebrate their successes at the final competition. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the organizations I've worked with over the past two years, I have not been able to see very many of my projects come to fruition. I'm happy to say though, the NESC changed that and now, with less than 6 weeks left in Georgia, I know I can leave with a smile on my face knowing I did make a difference.

Studying at regionals

Regional competition, Imereti

Regional winners, heading to Tbilisi!

Shannon, Gus, Ilia and Adam

Finalists at McDonald's

Registration

U.S. Embassy's Public Affairs Officer

PC Country Director, Rick Record

The judges

8th-9th grade competition

Top three 8th-9th graders 

10th-12th grade competition

First prize: iPads, courtesy of the U.S. Embassy!

Finalists and Volunteers!

It's just one of those days...

That's how my morning started the other day. I woke up to find another typical April day – cloudy, chilly, and rainy. I hadn't seen the sun in almost 10 days – it was depressing. Plus, the power, gas and water at my house were all out, which meant no shower, no coffee, no cooking, no computer. I didn't feel like getting out of bed or going for a run. I didn't feel like working on any projects. And I certainly didn't feel like going to the bazaar to buy vegetables. I just wanted to stay in bed all day. But, I forced myself to get up, if only to get out of my house for a few hours.

So, I walked in the rain to the bazaar, dodging cars and avoiding stares, getting crankier by the minute as I went along, and thinking I should have just stayed home. But then I got to the bazaar – a chaotic, packed marketplace where you can buy anything from live chickens, cow tongues, and tomatoes to brooms, batteries, and shoes – and I smiled. 

I don't know what it is, but the Telavi bazaar always puts me in the best mood. I have my apple guy, my cheese lady, my veggie lady and my potato guy – and they are always so happy to see me. We usually chat for a few minutes and they always smile and say, "kai gogo xar!" which means: "you're a good girl" – an odd, but nice, compliment.

My first stop was the tomato guy. I asked for half a kilo and he started picking out the best ones for me. He couldn't get the right amount though; the tomatoes all kept tipping the scale well over half a kilo. After several attempts to find a smaller one, he finally shrugged his shoulders and added two big tomatoes with a smile and a friendly "from me!" I thanked him for the free tomatoes and promised to come back soon. Hmm… maybe this day wasn't so bad after all!

Next I stopped to see my favorite vendor, the apple man. I love my apple man. He has the friendliest blue eyes and he always smiles and asks how I'm doing. I'm going to miss him. Anyway, I asked for 3 lari's worth of red apples, which he quickly bagged up for me. He started to hand me the bag, but then took it back and added in two more apples "from me!" Wow, free tomatoes AND apples?! I thanked him, wished him well, and started to walk away. But then he called me back and handed me a free banana too. I love this day!

With a big smile on my face, I finished up my shopping and headed to the USAID office. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised to see one of my site-mates who I hadn't seen in a few weeks. We started to catch up on each other's lives when another Volunteer showed up. Then another, and another, and another! It's always nice to run into Volunteers, have lovely English conversations, and laugh about our crazy Georgian experiences. We all spent a few hours at the office and then decided to top off the day with a few beers – a perfect ending to what had become a perfect day.

As I walked home that evening, I was feeling very grateful for all of the unexpected surprises that day. I had a bag full of fresh fruits and vegetables from the most thoughtful Georgians. I had friends who made me laugh. And the sky was opening up and I actually saw the sun peek through the clouds. Could this day get any better?!

Turns out, it could. When I walked into my room, my landlord/host grandmother had left a vase full of tulips (my favorite flower!) on the table. They were absolutely beautiful. I went downstairs to thank her and she invited me to stay for coffee. We talked about my time in Georgia, as well as my return to America. She told me they are all going to miss me when I leave, and asked (as most Georgians often do) why I don't just stay in Georgia forever. 

On days like that, it's easy to think about staying. I have fallen in love with this country and the people here. Yes, certain things about Georgia drive me insane (like the cigarette smoke and lack of planning) and yes, certain people make me want to bang my head against the wall (like those drivers who aim their cars at me when I'm walking down the street). But for the most part, I appreciate the experiences I've had and the people I've met. It's been an amazing two years and it's hard to believe it's coming to an end. You know, according to Georgians, I'm a "good girl" – but I like to think I'm a lucky girl.

From here to there

When you need to get somewhere in Georgia, you don't really have that many options for transportation. If you have a little extra lari in your pocket, you can arrange for a shared taxi, or, depending on where you're heading, you can take an air-conditioned bus. But most of the time, you're going to be traveling on a marsh, which is short for marshrutka.

Marshrutka is a Russian word that means "minibus". It is a form of shared public transportation with a set fee, but no set stops – you can literally get on and off wherever you want. Most marshes hold between 16-20 passengers; although in the cities where seats are not required for every passenger, there's more likely to be 30-35.

Georgia has all kinds of marshrutkas. If you're lucky, you'll find yourself on a newer, cleaner one that has comfortable seats, lots of legroom, and windows that open. But most of the time, you're going to end up on a rickety, old, rusted one where the seats are barely bolted down, springs are jabbing you in the back, funky smells are coming from the curtains, and the windows don't open. Never mind the awful Russian pop music blaring from the speakers.

Old Tbilisi marsh

New Tbilisi marsh

Marshrutka station

Inside a typical marsh

When you get on a marshrutka, you might not know when it's leaving or when it will arrive at your destination, but you will know you're in for a real treat. At least half of your trip will be spent driving on the wrong side of the road with oncoming traffic headed straight towards you. You'll swerve on the shoulder several times to avoid hitting the slow moving car (or cow) in front of you and you'll get a headache from the number of times your heads bangs against the window. At some point, you'll either get pulled over by the police or your marsh will simply break down.

Obviously, marshes can be a little rough at times, but on the plus side, they're inexpensive and convenient. To give you an idea of how much fun a marsh can be (!), here are a few things that have happened in my two years in Georgia (and yes, all of these are true and have happened, albeit mostly to my friends):

• It's obvious you're not Georgian, so everyone will stare at you, lean over you to see what you're reading, and try to talk to you; on the flip side, they'll also give you fruit and candy!
• A mother will give you her baby to hold for the duration of the trip since her lap is full of packages.
• An unhappy rooster will be crammed in a cage in the aisle and will crow for several straight hours.
• The driver will pull over to deliver a package (or wads of cash) to a random stranger waiting on the side of the road; it's like free FedEx in Georgia! He might even pull over just to chat with someone for a few minutes.
• Cows, sheep and goats will wander down the middle of the road with absolutely no regard to traffic, causing your driver to slam on the brakes and subsequently, causing you to slam into the seat in front of you.
• The marshutka will break down, requiring everyone to get off and find another way to get to his or her destination. This one is especially fun to deal with when you don't speak the language very well…
• An incredibly drunk or hung-over man will pass out on your shoulder – or a very tired and usually very large grandma will pass out on your shoulder.
• You will be traveling with roughly 20 people who are all afraid of fresh air (didn't you know it will make you sick?!), which means all of the windows will be closed, leaving you gasping for air.
• Your legs will suddenly be wet and you realize the old lady standing next to you just couldn’t hold it anymore.
• The little girl behind you, who just finished eating a snack, will throw up all over the back of your head – and!! you won’t be home for another 5 hours, which means you're not washing it out anytime soon.
• The no smoking signs are obeyed by all passengers, except the driver, who will not only smoke the entire trip but will also manage to ash all over you.
• The driver will tell you the marsh will be leaving "soon… in 5 minutes" for 3 straight hours (and sadly, you believe him every time he says "soon!").
• The driver will take a turn a little too fast and you will find yourself, with your seat, flying across the marshrutka because it wasn't properly bolted down.

All of those "interesting" events aside, I've found that marshutkas can be pleasurable. Sometimes, believe it or not, I even look forward to a few quiet hours on a marsh. I can put in my headphones and zone out for several hours. I can catch up on my reading. Or I can simply stare out of the window at the incredible views I'm guaranteed to see, no matter where in Georgia I'm traveling. That being said, I'm more than ready to have my own car again. To be able to go where I want, when I want, with the people, temperature and music I want… that's my idea of pure luxury.

The beginning of the end

Last week I attended our close-of-service conference, otherwise known as COS. For the last 2 years, I've been thinking about this conference… how exciting it would be to hear about all the final paperwork, medical exams and language tests; booking our flights home and returning our water filters; reflecting on our service and all that we've accomplished; and dreaming of our long-awaited return to America.

G11s - COS Conference

COS Conference

Country Director, Rick Record

G11 Business Volunteers

Little did I know, this conference would end up giving me the worst case of anxiety I've felt since my days in corporate world. Don't get me wrong, it was an incredible conference that far exceeded my expectations. We had fun dinners, lot of laughs, and a few unexpected tears of both pride and sadness. We had guest speakers from various government agencies talking about job options and previous volunteers talking about their lives post-Peace Corps; even the U.S. Ambassador joined us for a reception. We shared stories of what we'll miss and laughed about all the things we won't miss. And to top it all off, we got to stay at the Marriott for 3 glorious nights. Hot showers, soft beds, central heating. Not too shabby for ol' Susan!

So why the anxiety? Well, I guess I hadn't really thought this whole "leaving Georgia and returning to America" thing through. All I've thought about is how wonderful it will be to see my family and friends, hold my sweet nephew for the first time, eat sushi and cheddar cheese, and pull a hot, fluffy towel out of the dryer. All I've focused on is this magical place called America.

What I haven't really thought about is that this magical place might not actually be so magical. From what I hear, life continued in America, even after I left! My family and friends have gotten married, had babies, moved to new cities – and (gasp!) turns out, they might not be that interested in hearing about my time in Georgia. Taxes have increased. Jobs are scarce. Food is more expensive. Stores are huge and have too many selections. And apparently, people in the U.S. speak really fast. Is it possible my images of this perfect country are just that… images?

I also haven't thought about what it really means to say goodbye to my life here. Obviously, goodbyes are part of the package, but it's really starting to sink in that I will most likely never see most of these people again. Not only do I have to say goodbye to my host families and counterparts, but also my marshutka drivers, bazaar friends, store and restaurant owners, Peace Corps staff, and my fellow volunteers. All of these people have made my experience what it is and have forever changed me. How do you even begin to let them know how much they affected your life or how grateful you are to have met them? How do you say goodbye, especially when it's forever?

I haven't thought about what it means to find a job in today's economy. Then again, I haven't even really thought about what I want to do when I get home, or where I want to live. I joined the Peace Corps, hoping it would be a stepping-stone to a career in third world development, but turns out, that's not exactly where my interests lie. I don't really want to go back to what I was doing, but where does that leave me? Jobless. Clueless. Terrified.

I haven't thought about how I might have changed since coming to Georgia. Maybe my friends won't like the new me. Maybe my cats won't want anything to do with me. Maybe I won't be as employable as I think I am. Maybe I won't adjust as quickly as I'm imagining. Maybe I won't be in love with America. Maybe I won't even recognize myself once I get home.  

Jobs, friends, resumes, housing, cars, cell phones, work clothes, interviews… there's so much to consider when you're preparing to return home after two+ years abroad. But, higher taxes and looming unemployment aside, I think I'm ready. Scared, but ready.

Certificate of Completion!

We did it!

Being cold

When you apply for the Peace Corps, you can choose which region you prefer (although they want you to keep an open mind and be ready to go anywhere). I thought about this for a while before I submitted my application and finally decided to select Eastern Europe. Not only did I think it would be amazing to live somewhere with such an old and colorful history, but as a sufferer of frequent migraines, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to survive the heat of Africa. Oh, hindsight...

Right now, I'm in my bedroom and it's registering a cool 38 degrees. I'm fairly certain it's warmer outside. I'm wearing 2 pairs of wool socks, long underwear, fleece pants, a long sleeve t-shirt, fleece pullover and a scarf. My heater is 2 feet from my face but since I'm trying to save money on my electric bill this month I've opted to turn it off. Sometimes I lie in bed under my sleeping bag and 2 blankets trying to remember what it feels like to be warm. This is my life as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Don't get me wrong… I don't regret selecting Eastern Europe and I don't wish to be in another country. I'm just really cold. And after awhile, it starts to get to you. I don't think most Americans understand what it means to be cold. I'm not talking about the cold you feel when you first get in your car in the morning – before your heated seats warm up. I'm not talking about the cold you feel when you leave your heated office at night and the cold hits your face – before you get back in your car with heated seats. I'm talking about being REALLY COLD. I certainly never understood it until I came here, and now I think I understand it a little too well! 

To get a sense of what it's like to be really cold, imagine the following (all of which have really happened):

• You keep your electric heater close to you at all times, even carrying it with you from room to room. You get dressed, eat, work, and brush your teeth in front of your heater. It is your best friend.
• Before you get tucked in for the night, you make sure your laptop is tucked in under the covers next to you – otherwise it might freeze and crack.
• You lie in bed an extra 2 hours every morning because it's just too cold to get up. You can literally see your breath.
• You try to hold it as long as you can because your bathroom is outside and you just don't feel like getting bundled up again and taking another 30 minutes to warm up after you get back.
• Speaking of the bathroom, most mornings you have to use the toilet brush to crack the water in the toilet bowl before you can go.
• You dread brushing your teeth because the water is so cold; it literally hurts your teeth. Oh, and your toothpaste… it's so cold, it's hard to squeeze it out of the tube.
• Showering… Your choices are to 1.) not shower at all, or 2.) shower with lukewarm water with freezing cold air hitting you from every direction. Then you have to turn the water off, leaving you standing in the freezing cold air, dripping wet and rushing to dry off as quickly as possible. 
• After showering, you have to blow dry your hair immediately because it starts getting stiff and crunchy the minute you walk back into your cold bedroom. This isn't so bad though; you can use the blow dryer to warm yourself up (assuming the power is still on, of course)!
• Later that day, you walk into the bathroom, forgetting that you had showered that morning. The steam from your shower has now frozen on the tile floor, serving as a lovely ice-skating rink.
• You turn your electric water heater on to make tea, and use the body of it to warm your hands. Then you pour the hot water in your mug, but it instantly shatters because the mug was so cold.
• You spend the majority of your day in bed because it's the only place that is somewhat warm.
• The power goes out and you watch the red coils on your heater slowly disappear. Tears well up in your eyes.
• It takes 2-3 days for your clothes to dry on the line outside, so you have to construct an indoor line and walk through the maze of clothes in your room.
• You absentmindedly forget about your heater and set your coffee mug down in front of it. Two minutes later, you scald your lips and tongue on the rim of your now 140-degree mug.

Indoor clothesline!

My best friend.

• You would never leave the house wearing just one layer of clothes! Two layers is the minimum; three is preferred.
• You spend half your day sitting next to your electric heater and now have dry red eyes, a stuffy nose, and one side of your face is hot and dry.
• You don't remember the last time your fingers or toes were truly warm.
• You're invited to dinner at your friend's house and as their guest, they put you closest to the wood-burning stove. At first, you're grateful for their generosity but then you realize you are sweating because you have on 3 layers of fleece and wool. You can literally feel the sweat dripping down your back. After dinner, you walk home, but since you've been sweating for the last three hours, the cold air makes you THAT much colder.
• You no longer have a need for a refrigerator; you can store all of your items on your windowsill!
• Your fruits and vegetables have suddenly gone bad, not because they have rotted… they have frozen.
• And the worst one yet… your water pipes burst, but the ground is frozen so you can’t replace them. You spend the next 4 weeks without any running water. 

That, my friends, is what it's like to be cold. And that's why I'm escaping to warmer climates for the next month. Southern India... here I come.