No, No, Not The State, The Country!

I’m going to admit right now I am living a truly awesome life, in every sense. I’ve been given the huge honor and privilege to work with the program Teach and Learn with Georgia. I will be in the country of Georgia teaching english in a village for the next year. I arrived on December 5th and spent a week in orientation getting to know some of my fellow volunteers and then we were picked up by our host families and scattered through out the country. I was sent to a small village about a two hour bus ride from the capital. I had no idea what to expect, except I was told I would be living with a family with a mother, father, two children and a grandmother in a two story house with an outdoor bathroom an toilet, what ever that meant. The family was warm and welcoming, watching out for me, without being over bering. The house by American standards was not up to par, minor things really, like no microwave. (How am I suppose to cook my tv dinners? Oh wait I get cooked real food here.) However coming into this I knew what to expect and the only thing that really threw me was the fact that my toilet a dirt covered stone slab, with a hole cut into with two stone blocks a little bigger then bricks that were strategically placed around said hole. Ahhh yes a squat toilet ladies and gentlemen. I would also like to say that I have very proudly mastered using it, kind of, but that is a story for another day. Houses in Georgia tend to not look the best from the outside, maybe they need a paint job or some broken siding or what not, but the inside is always well taken care of. (I will come back a domestic goddess) My house had chickens in the yard that were free to roam around, and a big fluffy dog that was always chained up and would bark when ever anyone comes or goes. There was also a decent sized garden with a few remnants of the past growing season.

The village its self was a good sized place with no less then six shops carrying mostly basic foods and goods. The few main roads were paved, but in disrepair and always covered with cow, horse, and donkey manure. The other roads were dirt and often had big pools of muddy water or the ones that went down hills, little streams had been carved out of them.

The village has two schools and I worked in number two, which was in major need of restoration. There is no central heating and all of the classrooms have wood stoves. Most of the teachers and students keep there coats on all day, however the classrooms for the younger children always seemed to have a roaring fire going, which was so hot I was afraid a few times that my boots were going to melt when I sat close to it. I also have a sneaking suspicion that the students in the older grades are too cool to be cold, there for don’t make much effort to keep the fire going. The students are in charge of the classroom fires and some of these kids have mad skills. I bet some of these seven year old boys could beat any of you in a competition of fire building. The school had three floors and the third one was mostly abandoned, except for a computer lab and the head teachers office. That left about eight or so classrooms with there doors nailed shut. I of course tried opening everyone and an old science room at the end of the hallway opened, probably because the rest had nothing in them and I snuck in to look around and take pictures. I don’t really know what happened at my school so it was like that, but with my passion for sneaking into rundown and abandoned places I was more then ok with it.

My village is about 10 or 11km to the next town, so it takes me about an hour and a half to walk, not stopping to explore somewhere and take some pictures. Now living in Georgia with no internet access at my house and a relatively short work day of between three and four hours, leaves me with a lot of time with not a whole lot to do, so this walk in America that may seem pointless and tedious is a godsend. On the walk it leads through flat farm land and pastures, that are filled with animals and there good natured herders that always seemed more then happy to see me. Most of the time they asked if I was a journalist because of my camera, (yes I am here to cover the daily herding of your cows back to the barn for the night. How did you know?) or they knew that I was the new english teacher. Everyone in the village knew exactly who I was and what I was doing at all times. It sounds a little creepy, but I cant get kidnapped with the whole town watching now can I? Also anytime on my walk cars would pull over multiple times and try to convince me that I didn’t have to walk, I could ride in a nice automobile with them to town instead. Not the point of a walk, but these people don’t really understand exercise just because. It was ok because I would just gesture to my camera and explain that I was out taking photos and they were more then happy to let the crazy American go on her way.

Eventually on walk I come to a river that signals I am on the outskirts of the next town over. The river this time of year is mostly dried up and has a bed of mixed stones. I walked in it one day for a little bit and was just struck by the beauty of it all. A dirt road runs the length of the river and dead grassy plains stretch on and on, up into pine tree covered hills that give way to snow covered mountains.

It was so peaceful walking until I couldn’t hear any man made sounds and finding a rock to sit and just enjoy everything. Sitting there I realized how relived I was by my situation. For a year I don’t have to be consumed with all the things I loath, like mass consumerism and keeping up the Jones’s. No Entertainment Tonight telling me the latest Kardashian news. I don’t have to worry about my appearance as much as I would in America. I can wear the same cloths three days in a row and no one will care. The time spent putting on make up in the morning is gone, except for lip balm and maybe some mascara. My students and fellow villagers won’t think twice if I show up to school like this. Also I don’t need it as much for reasons of things like circles under my eyes, because I get 10 glorious hours of sleep a night. Showering once every four days great. It’s cold so you never really smell and my hair looks so much better a few days after my shower. It gets a little darker so its this nice deep reddish orange and so shiny. I think my hair truly feels healthier or I’m just telling myself this. Not having the internet at my finger tips 24/7 is actually quite relieving. My family in Maine has my Georgian phone number so if they really need to get a hold of me they can call. I feel a lot calmer already and I am really looking forward to the next year. I’m in a beautiful country with beautiful people with my camera and chaining the world and I couldn’t be happier about my decision to come. Random village photos I wanted to share:

Abandoned Factory and Lviv Holocaust Memorial

This morning I set off from my hostel on a mission to get some great shots today for my photo project. Today it was in the high 20s so I put on all my cold weather gear. Basically I felt like a super big Maine hick with everything on. One big issue I am facing right now is that my thermals for my bottom half are ridiculously big. I do not know how this has happened, but I am dealing with it the best I can. I also had my lovely plaid flannel shirt on along with my Sorrel boots, and my L.L.Bean coat.
I trudged to the bus stop and and decided that today I would take whatever one seemed like a good bet to me. I ended up on number 45. The plan was to ride it until I saw something that looked like a good subject to shoot. The bus ended up going to same way I go on my way to the grocery store and we went passed some old and abandoned factories. I quickly reasoned with myself that I had wanted to shoot these for a while and that I should just do it now. This bus could end up going passed no where else of interest and I had no idea how long the sun would hold out.
I got out at the next stop and walked back towards the complex and encountered a wall. I started to walk along it, coming across places that I could maybe get in through, but kept walking thinking that there had to be an easier way. I came across drive leading in and walked passed some businesses that were still open in the complex. Some people looked at me, but no one said anything to me. I formed a plan in my head that if someone tried to question why I was there I would say that I thought it was a short cut to McDonald’s. There is in fact one really close by so it would be believable. I can play the stupid fat American card really well. Some people wouldn’t be proud of it, but I feel like it has some advantages here so I have embraced this, and I am also not really a stupid fat American so I enjoy playing one.
The ground had a thin covering of snow, that I wasn’t really sure how I felt about this. It added to my photos in some cases I feel, however people could also fallow my tracks. Clearly the old Soviet notion of the KGB fallowing people had gotten a hold of me today. I could also look for new human tracks too, so it made me feel a little better when I just saw bird and dog prints. One good thing about the people near by is that they clearly kept the kids and bums out of drinking in the buildings, keeping them mostly intact and not full of broken vodka bottles.
I took out my camera and starting shooting and playing my game of trying to figure out what this use to be. The first two or three buildings I only photographed from the outside and one I leaned through a window that had been broken in, and photographed the inside from there.
For those of you who don’t know me that well I am a complete scardy cat. I can barely go in my basement or attic alone at home. I’ve had my moments of panic attacks due to being scared, so shooting in old abandoned buildings is an interesting challenge for me. I have to focus on the task at hand, taking photos, and making sure that they come out right, not forgetting everything I have ever learned about photography, and not get too freaked out at the same time. I like to think with all my senses on high alert that I shoot better, just do what feels natural.
The first doorway that I went into lead into a decent sized room with frosted glass all over the floor and these four concrete rectangular mounds with pipes next to them coming out of the floor.

The room lead no where so I went back outside to the next door that was in the same building that had a long hall way with rooms off from it. The floor still had the black and cream colored checkered tiles on it and a sky light with most, if not all of the glass still intact. I entered the first room in swat team style like you see on TV, which clearly my camera was filling in for my gun. I do odd things when I am a little scared ok? The first thing that struck me about this room was a lone boot that was against the wall and up right. It looked almost new. There were multiple binders and papers and it looked like the room might possibly have been an office at some point.
I went back out into the hall and into the next room and the only thing that stood out really was a poster still on the wall. This room looked like it might have been used as an office too. I entered the hall again and this time I saw a broken sign on the floor that was relatively still intact and this excited me, but I needed to continue on with my swat mission.
Room number three looked like it was used as a work room of some sort. I found jugs, jars, and cans scattered on the floor. There was also a sign on the wall that said something about ventilation and there was remnants of one on the wall. There was also some red stuff on the wall that had dripped down. First thought in my mind was that it was blood. I then convinced myself that it could not be blood, using my skills I’ve learned from CSI, that the splatter patter was wrong and also there was other colors of paint on the wall so there for it was paint. If a forensic expert would like to prove me wrong on this conclusion feel free to do so.

Back out in the hall I continued on ward and ended up passing dark bathrooms that I practically sprinted passed trying not to look in, I failed at being a swat team member right there. I came to a thresh hold of the last and final room that was bigger then all the others. To get into it I had to step on insulation that had fallen from some where. I didn’t care what I had to step over as long as I didn’t have to go passed those bathrooms again. The room was filled with a lot of rubble and on the wall there was one old tile still up. Once inside I realized that there was no door out. It was a dead end. Awesome I thought. I looked and the three big windows that had long lost there glass and decided that I would climb out that way. It was basically like a door, except I have short little legs so I couldn’t just step over, I had to sit on the sill and swing my legs over. I ended up in a strip of overgrown land that was between the building and a brick wall. I carefully walked around, continuing to shoot, looking for my next way in that wasn’t a window. I rounded a corner and heard a sound. I thought that I had been caught and it was just a door blowing in the light wind.

I went into this huge room that had rubble littering the floor. There was part of a gas mask, some rubber tubing, tires, and other little odds and ends. This seems like a good time for me to talk about my ethics as I shoot. I do not believe that anything should ever be taken from a site. Also when I am there I try to not touch anything, like the binders on the floor in the first room I would have loved to have seen what was written inside, but one I can’t read Ukrainian, two I feel like that is disturbing history. Its not my place to go around messing up the past, I’m just there to document it. So I walked carefully around the big room and kept peering through the holes in the wall to the room next to it. I had to leave the inside and go outside again.

I felt like the best room was saved for last. The first thing that caught my eye was the pictures of scantily clad women that still clung to the posts in the room. I went up to investigate further I saw that the pictures looked relatively new. There was no date any where that I could see, but I did find out that some of the pictures came from a Playboy. Can we just take a moment and here and talk about who brings this in? Is it one guy who gets to decide, or do they organize a bring in your favorite porn day? Are there rules on how graphic it can be? I mean this is a place of work, not your man cave.
Anyways moving on, I love all the texture and colors on the wall. There were doors that lead to no where as the floors above the ground level had long gone. Pipes were coming out of the wall. There was an old warped wooden ladder in the corner on its side.


I then decided that it was time to wrap up this shoot and head home and when I came out of the building the there were some containers that looked like they honestly should have been in a toxic waste dump.
I put my camera away so when I went passed the people it wouldn’t give them a reason to hassle me. Again I got some strange looks as I walked out. I headed back to the main road and breathed a sigh of relief that I had, had another successful shoot. I stood there for a little bit and thought about if I wanted to take the bus back or walk. I decided to walk as I hadn’t in reality spent that long shooting and wanted time to digest what I had just seen and experienced.
On my way home I passed the Holocaust Memorial for Lviv. I had seen it many times on my bus rides, but had yet to stop and look at it close up. I had always admired the beauty of the cubist sculpture that has his agonized face towards the sky as if to ask God how this possibly could happened to his people. I went inside the gated place to get a closer look and there was a plaque in English that read “Through this “Road of Death” in 1941-1943 were passing 138,800 Jewish victims martyred by German Nazi-Fascist occupiers in Lvov Ghetto”. Part of the sculpture is a road leading up what appears to be two Jewish grave stones and the road abruptly stopped and there is a pit type trench that has boulders and huge hunks of glass and then out of the pit the giant man stands on a mound of boulders at though he has risen out. My interpretation of the monument is that people walked down this road and ultimately most of them ended up it pits like this. On the side of the road there were also plaques of remembrance to people who died during the Nazi occupation. Over all I found the monument extremely moving, even if there was a bus stop, factory, a busy road, and train tracks all right next to it. Perhaps it is because I have really become attached to Lviv and a lot of the same buildings are still here from the time period. It is really kind of eery to walk by places like the Opera House or City Hall and know that people suffered so much right there and it looked the same as it does now. Also between the last time I was in Lviv and know I read a book called “The Girl in the Green Sweater” and it was about a Jewish family and how they lived in the swears under Lviv for over a year to escape from the Nazis. It is a really amazing story and if you are looking for a good read and faith in human kind you should read this.






I left the monument and continued on to my hostel and thought about what I should do when I got back. I was pretty drained emotionally and physically so I went and got that McDonalds that I was supposedly looking for. When I got back to my hostel I got my laptop out and watch last nights episode of Glee and ate my food. When traveling I have found that it is very important to take care of yourself emotionally. It is important to educate yourself on things, but I find that some travelers don’t always allow themselves the small joys in life and I feel that by doing some American things I don’t miss home as much and over all I am happier. I am now going to eat some chocolate, re-watch Glee, and drink my water so I stay healthy.