Goodbye Shadow

It is sometimes easy for me to forget that Georgia is a developing nation. My host house has all the comforts of my house in America, minus good water pressure and being cold in the winter, but it hasn’t been cold for months now. I spend my weekends in Tbilisi with the ability to get whatever I want, besides good Chinese food. It also comes down to the fact that I have adjusted and adapted to Georgia and nothing seems to be too out of my spectrum of normal. 

Yesterday I was going through my things, trying to cut down on everything I would have to lug to my apartment in Tbilisi. I decided to part with a box of markers that I had used maybe once to color with and other wise they were keeping my window propped open. I also had some construction paper, nail polish, half a bottle of lotion that I didn’t care for the scent anymore, and a Little Mermaid coloring book that I never got bored enough to color in. I put it in a blue plastic bag and set off to give it to one of my fourth grade students. My co-teacher had told me that her family was very poor, but in the semester that I had known her and her three siblings I had still yet to go inside her house. The children sometimes came to school a little dirty, but what kids aren’t? There clothing was a little warn and they are on the smaller side, but I just attributed it to genetics and nothing else.

I found the her house and no one was outside so I asked the next door neighbor, who yelled and got my students mother outside. I explained that I was looking for one of her daughters. She happily ushered me inside and told me that she would be home shortly. She gave me a small stool to sit on and offered me coffee. I declined and she took a seat on the floor next to an older women, who it was explained to me that she was my students grandmother. A toddler came over and immediately wanted me to hold her and play with her. I scooped her right up in my arms and held her while talking with my students mother about them, my summer and autumn plans, and our families. 

I had forgotten that I was a curiosity to people, but I was reminded of this. There was a very good chance that I was the first foreigner that they had ever had in their house. They touched my color tattoo and my newly permed hair. I let the toddler wear my nock off Ray Ban sunglasses and she screamed when they were taken away. They all wanted me to take their pictures with my camera.

I looked around the small house that was made up of four rooms. The wallpaper had come off in large chunks. There were cracks all over the walls and even a hole in the corner by the floor that I could see out of. The TV was partially melted on the side, with wires coming out, but it was still functional. In this hot weather the deterioration was not a massive issue, but I could only imagine the how cold the house got in the winter when the wind blew through the cracks. I did not count enough beds for every family member. There wasn’t that many possessions. A few old toys scattered around the house. 

My student came home with her two older sisters, the eldest questioned her mother why I didn’t not have coffee and I said I didn’t want any. I gave my student the bag of things I had brought and she way beyond excited looking at everything. I explained that I was going away for the summer and I didn’t want these things anymore.  She put everything back in the bag and kept a death grip on it, politely stating that it was hers. She told her mother though that she could have the lotion, which I had to explain what it was and how to use it. They loved the smell of it. I felt bad thinking of all the Bath and Body Works products that I have back in the States that if I had here I would give them, not just a half bottle of lotion. 

My student then decided that she wanted to paint my nails with a bottle of nail polish I had also given her. She did one pinky and got half on my finger, which her mother fixed and then asked me to do the rest. I sat painting my nails while the whole family watched and they all told me how pretty they looked when I had finished. The mother disappeared and came back with a bar of soap that she tried to give to me and I explained to her that my bag that I was taking to Australia this summer was really small. She came back with a pair of silver hoop earrings, telling me that these could fit into my bag. I didn’t want to take anything away from them because of how little they have, but I couldn’t keep saying no. I also was given a cup of coffee around the same time. I let my student put my new earrings on me, which was a little painful at one point, but I kept a smile plastered to my face. I didn’t want her to get in trouble for “hurting” the American teacher. 

My student’s sister who is in fifth grade and super smart sat translating between her mother and I. She is easily one of the best, if not the best student I have. She always finds time to do her homework and study, even though she has to help her mother around the house and I don’t mean choirs that a child is given. I’ve been told she takes care of the cows, which is amazing to me that this small 12 year old girl could handle not just one cow, but numerous ones. She also watches her younger siblings. 

Their mother excuses herself, because she had to go tend to the eggplant, which is their source of income. My student and I went for a walk around her part of the village. I live on one of the two main streets and she lives further out, by the border of Azerbaijan. She held my hand with one of her hands and in the other her blue bag. She took me around, showing me where her grandmother lived, which looked like a house even smaller then her own. She said hello to everyone that we passed, happy to show that she was with me. She slipped on mud at one point and almost went down, but we just started laughing. During our walk tears came out of my eyes a little bit, knowing that I was leaving this week and thinking back on the semester spent with her and all of our misadventures. I love being her friend, but being her teacher drives me nuts. She can’t sit still and doesn’t do any of the work, then again she also is lacking books and other supplies. Despite that she has still picked up some English, not nearly as much as her sister though. We started to walk one way, but there was a goose and when she saw it she decided to turn around and go back towards her house. I didn’t blame her, those things can be horribly mean. There is one I pass everyday on my way to school that chased me a few months back and I look at it and think if you try anything again, so help me God, I am going to kill you and cook you for dinner. I pretend to not notice her fear and she ignored my tears. We were even. 

We went back to her house and broke in the Little Mermaid coloring book. I got one page, she got the opposite. She asked me what color she should use on everything, never once questioning my choice. We did this for a bit and then I announced that I should go home. 

On my walk back to my house I thought about the difference I had made in some of my students lives this semester and even though I will be in Tbilisi teaching next autumn it doesn’t mean that I will forget about this school or stop trying to give back to my former students and their families. I am already planing a list of things to purchase over my summer holidays to bring back to them when I visit. I feel that just because my fellow volunteers and I move on to do new things, that we should not sever our ties with our old schools. We could assume that another volunteer will eventually come along to fill our place and pick up where we left off, or we can continue to make a difference, even from afar, not leaving things to chance.