tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59378367779557749622024-03-14T16:33:03.576+03:00Where to Next?<br><i>I'm just a mom <br><br>traveling the world with my husband and kids<br><br> in constant pursuit of the answer <br><br>to the question that governs our nomadic life.</i>Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03270192854227188723noreply@blogger.comBlogger477125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-59713589051163362272014-07-01T13:37:00.000+04:002014-07-01T13:37:00.379+04:00Georgian food - the best little-known cuisine in the worldHaving become acquainted with Georgian food nine years ago, and having, like many newcomers to the cuisine, fallen head-over-heels in love with khachapuri, I was certain that I would gain a ton of weight when we moved to Tbilisi. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adjaran khachapuri - cheesy bread with a lake of butter and lightly poached egg on top.</td></tr>
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As it turns out, I got sick of the national cheesy bread pretty quickly upon arrival to the country. But my love for the rest of the Georgian table has remained true. My favorite thing about it is the variety and deliciousness of available vegetarian and vegan cuisine. Orthodox Christians are called to fast from all or most animal products (with varying intensity) for roughly six months out of the year. In Georgia, that isn't so difficult.</div>
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It's hard to pick a favorite among the vegan stars of the Georgian kitchen, but if pressed I think I'd have to go with the salad with walnuts. At its core, it's just cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, fresh herbs, and crushed walnuts. The real standout salads also include white wine vinegar, some of fresh, spicy peppers, and maybe a sprinkle of one of the classic Georgian spice blends. It is delicious.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salad with walnuts and beet green pkhali.</td></tr>
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Right up there with the walnut salad is my old friend pkhali. Pkhali is a vegetable-walnut pate made with white wine vinegar, garlic, herbs, and Georgian spices. The photo above features my favorite pkhali, made with beet greens. In the photo below you can see some spinach pkhali that I made myself at a local cooking class last winter.<br />
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Lobiani, a bean-filled pastry, is another mainstay of the Georgian table. It is sold in roadside stands, too, and is a popular local snack food. You can either get your lobiani flavored with lard/bacon, or in a fasting, animal-fat-free variety, which is also very tasty. My housekeeper makes lobiani for us weekly, and it is my son's favorite food. Unfortunately I don't have any photos of it, but it is a pretty humble looking thing anyway - just flat bread filled with mashed beans.<br />
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Georgian cuisine has a lot to offer the carnivore, as well. Pork, chicken, beef and veal mtsvadi (barbecue/shashlik), meat kebabs, ...<br />
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Another mainstay is khinkali - a dumpling usually filled with meat and herbs, but sometimes containing cheese, potatoes or mushrooms instead. There is an art to eating khinkali. You are supposed to hold it by the knob, take a small bite out of the side, and drink the juice inside before eating the rest of the dumpling and its contents.<br />
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But you always have your rebels, and sometimes you'll find them eating their khinkali like so.<br />
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No matter how you eat them, they are darn tasty.<br />
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Which brings me to my last item - my beloved favorite, chkmeruli (or shqmeruli, if you prefer).<br />
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Ahh, chkmeruli. This bowl of deliciousness consists of a well-fried village chicken immersed in a butter/milk/garlic sauce that is out.of.this.world. I think it deserves another photo.<br />
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It does not get any better than this, folks.<br />
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Yes, I am going to miss Georgia.Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-8436246963250809732014-06-29T08:45:00.001+04:002014-06-29T21:45:49.293+04:00The NivaWhen I moved to Yerevan, I had dreams of owning a Niva, the tiny 4x4 hatchback that is a mainstay of the roads in the former Soviet Union (and probably rural Russia, though not so much Moscow). I was strongly discouraged from buying one by everyone who knew anything about them. One of the local consular staff half-joked to me that if I did buy one, I should make sure to get one that was manufactured in the morning, because by afternoon all the workers are drunk.<br />
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So I drove a Jeep Cherokee in Armenia. And I wasn't entirely against the idea when Jeremy decided to buy a Niva here last year. He used it primarily for commuting the five minutes to and from work, and ended up driving up to four other grown men at a time. <br />
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It looked a little crowded to me, but then, Nivas and other cars native to this part of the world are no strangers to being jam-packed.<br />
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I got into a car accident in March that took our Ford out of commission for two months (due to snail-like action from our insurer and the time it takes to ship parts to Georgia), and so I spent some time driving the girls to and from school in the Niva. Thankfully my dad taught me to drive stick when I was 16, so it was only the Niva's particular quirks that I had to learn.<br />
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First of all, it has a throttle. You have to pull out the throttle to start the car when it's been sitting for awhile. Second, it has an inadvertent kill switch. If you press one of the buttons marked with a lightbulb above the stick while the car is in gear, it will die. Pretty awesome, right?<br />
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The first day I drove it, Tbilisi was being inundated by monsoon-like rains. Every dip in the pavement became a lake, and I held my breath while driving through, hoping the water wouldn't consume my tiny little tires. <br />
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The windshield wiper was next to useless. I say "next to" because when the wiper flew off in the middle of heavy traffic, my visibility was worsened just slightly. The entire car was already irretrievably fogged up, to the point that there was zero visibility out of the tiny rear windshield. That day I learned that, if the Niva slightly ahead of you tries to merge into your lane, narrowly missing your front bumper in the process, it is likely not grossly negligent driving, but simply that he cannot see you.<br />
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I also learned that there is a reason men drive these cars hunched over the steering wheel. I had assumed it was because there isn't enough space in the car for them - but Georgians as a whole are pretty short and though the car is small, hunching is not necessary for space reasons. I, however, found myself hunched over the steering wheel for a different reason - I was trying to get the car to go faster. Any faster than 65 km/hr (40mph), and it felt like doors would rattle right off their hinges. To say nothing of projectile windshield wipers.<br />
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The good thing about Nivas (and similar cars) is that they can be fixed with some silly putty and a rubber band - which is often necessary, right there in the middle of the road.<br />
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While I really detested driving that car, I will say that it taught me some humility. As terrifying as it can be to navigate the roads of Georgia in a large, sturdy truck, it is immeasurably more frightening to be driving a rusty tin can amid the SUVs. I learned to give the Nivas a little more space and be less of a road bully. My driving habits, like those of most Americans I know here, have changed a lot in the last two years. It's going to be weird to get back to the States where people actually stay in their lanes and signal before turning.<br />
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I do have to mention, though, that while every last Georgian driver would fail the behind-the-wheel test at any American DMV, the women drivers here really are the worst. They don't exhibit the same brash insanity of the drivers of shiny SUVs, who skid along the highways on two wheels as they cut everyone off so that they can get to the shwarma stand first. Rather, if you are behind a car that slows to 3 mph when approaching an intersection, wavering hesitatingly between lane markings, I will bet the farm that the driver is a woman. The American stereotype finds truth in the Caucasus.<br />
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I will leave you with the rules of the Georgian road, as I have observed them.<br />
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1) Not sure which lane is going fastest? Drive between them. It's ok - the lane markings are just there so someone can have a job painting them.<br />
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2) If you need to stop your car to look under the hood or take a wizz, wait until you have just rounded the corner and are not visible to cars behind you. That way no one will see your pee pee while you do your business, and they'll probably be able to swerve to avoid hitting your car at the last minute.<br />
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3) If you would like to pass someone, drive right up onto their tail and honk loudly. That way they will be sure to notice you. Flashing your lights won't work; they're too busy texting or lighting a cigarette (or both) to notice.<br />
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4) This is important. Merge first, look second. Better yet, don't look at all - it will just confuse you. The other driver will move. He doesn't want you to hit his car.<br />
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5) If you are unsure about where you are going, just stop your car in the intersection while you figure it out. You wouldn't want to miss your turn.<br />
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6) No parking spots outside the quickie mart? Just park in the righthand traffic lane. The other cars will go around you.<br />
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Happy Driving!<br />
<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03270192854227188723noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-54437654206368402062014-06-24T12:42:00.000+04:002014-06-24T12:42:00.262+04:00Trip to Svaneti, part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A double rainbow greeted us when we arrived in Mestia just in time for dinner (a huge one, that I neglected to photograph, provided by our guesthouse). You may have noticed the rainbow we photographed on the road from Zugdidi, in my last post - that was a different rainbow. </div>
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I think I have seen more rainbows during my last two years in Georgia than in the entire rest of my life - both at home in Tbilisi and around the rest of the country. The Georgians believe that this land is under the protection of the Mother of God. Maybe the rainbows are related to that.<br />
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The next morning we had breakfast at the guesthouse. On the menu was khachapuri (Georgian cheese bread), cucumbers and tomatoes, cheese, bread, boiled eggs and cake. The cake, by the way, was a swirled chocolate-and-vanilla affair that tasted identical to a cake my mother used to bake in a Bundt pan. I do not know what recipe she used but when I get home I will go through all her cookbooks to see if I can find it. <i>It's the little things like this that I imagine will continue to be tough as time marches on after her death.</i><br />
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After breakfast we set off exploring.</div>
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Staring at the rusty playground mean old Mama wouldn't let them play on.<br />
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In downtown Mestia - that peculiar building in the background is the police station.<br />
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The guidebook counseled us that the best thing to do in Mestia was to turn off into the dirt alleyways and explore. So that's what we did.<br />
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The girls were dying to go into a tower (since, clearly, Rapunzel must have lived in one of them). As they are all privately owned, we weren't sure how to make that happen. We ended up walking until we saw a woman standing in the courtyard of this house and tower, and we asked if we could come in and check it out. <br />
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She graciously agreed. She didn't speak any English or Russian so I was unable to ask her about the history of her house and tower. Jeremy and the girls climbed the ladder to the first floor of the tower, but I stayed below with Gabriel.<br />
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This was the inside of her house. The ladder to the right leads to the entry to the tower. The part in front of the stone wall, to the left, is traditionally where the livestock would live. The living space is on the other side of the stone wall.<br />
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We headed back into town for lunch, and were delighted to find the square set up for a folk dance performance. Georgian folk dancing is wonderful and we have caught several professional performances by the two main troupes that come through Tbilisi each year. The performance in Mestia was put on my school children from throughout the Svaneti region and it.was.awesome. I think I enjoyed it more than the professional performances. The girls were enthralled.</div>
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The kid leaping in the below picture was awesome. He could totally dance professionally. We saw him later on at the museum and I don't think he was much older than 12.<br />
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Check out the faces of the kids below performing the highlanders' dance. You can see video of a similar dance by professionals <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JuxNM5M8_o">here</a>.<br />
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We tried to delay nap time in order to stay for the whole performance, but were unsuccessful. After naps, we headed to the Ethnographic Museum, which was happily open even though the guidebook said it was usually closed Sundays. Svaneti was historically a hiding place for cultural artifacts due to its isolation and the fact that invaders rarely made it all the way into the mountains, so the museum's collection is wonderful. There are a number of ancient icons - the following photos show icons of St. George and the Archangel Gabriel. Georgian iconography has a distinct style that I like very much.<br />
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This pulpit dates from 1100, and just hangs out in the middle of the room with only a single rope to guard it from prying hands. It seems to be holding up pretty well, despite that. Seeing stuff like this abroad always makes me think that Americans make things needlessly complicated.<br />
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Thousand-year-old Bibles.<br />
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The Armory.<br />
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Before dinner we took another walk behind our guesthouse, where we found more of that fantastic honeysuckle.<br />
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The scent was not quite as nice there, though, mingled as it was with cow dung.<br />
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The next morning we got up, ate another hearty breakfast and headed back for Tbilisi. Though long, it was a great trip and I am glad we were able to fit it in. With just a week left in Georgia, we won't get to see anything else. I hope that we will make it back here sometime, but you never know.</div>
<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-83599169712264449022014-06-22T08:53:00.003+04:002014-06-22T08:53:40.676+04:00Trip to Svaneti - part 1We have less than two weeks left in Georgia, and the past month has flown by. I have resisted making a bucket list for the end of our tour because, well, stressful. Who needs that kind of pressure? With three little ones at home, I'm pretty satisfied with the traveling we have done around the country and beyond. Two jaunts to <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2012/11/road-trip-to-batumi.html">Batumi</a>, a day trip to <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2012/10/davit-gareja.html">David Gareja monastery</a>, <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2013/07/daytrip-to-gori.html">Gori and Uplistsikhe</a>, <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2014/01/holiday-happenings.html">Gudauri</a>, <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2014/01/skiing-in-bakuriani.html">Bakuriani</a>, <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2014/02/in-case-you-care-about-what-we-did-15.html">Yerevan</a>. My favorite experiences of our tour here, actually, have been the trips that weren't in the guide book: <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-week-at-sanatorium.html">Nunisi</a> (twice, we just yesterday returned got back from a week there, more on that soon) and <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-saints-procession.html">Samtavro convent</a>, which I have visited a number of times since February.<br />
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In any case, the towers of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Svaneti">Svaneti</a> are considered a must-see. It's the highest inhabited region in the Europe and is nestled among Georgia's highest peaks. In addition to Georgian, its people speak Svan, an ancient, unwritten language that has been designated by UNESCO as "endangered." <br />
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It's an 8-hour drive each way, and we only had a three-day weekend to work with, so we opted to spend our one sightseeing day in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mestia">Mestia</a>.<br />
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The last three hours of the drive, the stretch from Zugdidi to Mestia, was touted by our guide book as the most dangerous road in Georgia. As such, it is peppered with memorial shrines for those who have died in car accidents. <br />
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Some of the shrines are simple, with just enough room for a glass of cha cha (local grape vodka) so that visitors can toast to the departed. <br />
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Some are a little fancier - with headstones and benches </div>
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There were a couple of very elaborate ones, with roofs to shield visitors from the elements.<br />
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The drive was beautiful.<br />
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The mountain air was wonderful. There were tons of these bushes of what I believe, based on their intoxicating scent, to be giant yellow honeysuckles. <br />
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As we neared Mestia we began to see the square-topped defensive towers Svaneti is famous for.<br />
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These towers, 25 meters high and each 900 to 1300 years old (!!), were built by families to protect themselves from marauders and from blood feuds between locals. As far as I know, all are still privately owned. You can see some diagrams of the inside of these towers <a href="http://georgiaabout.com/2012/07/26/about-sights-svanetian-towers/">here</a>.<br />
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The road wound through mountain passes, treacherously close to the cliff in spots, but nonetheless well-maintained. We were surprised, then, that our GPS did not seem to recognize the road as the most expedient way to get to Mestia. It kept trying to get us to make a u-turn and drive back the way we came. I snapped this picture of the GPS just a mile or so out from our destination - note how close we were, and the estimated time of arrival ... it was about 6:30 p.m. when I took the photo.<br />
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That's about enough photos for one post, I think. Stay tuned for pictures of Mestia and an account of the rest of the trip.<br />
<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-8526826407695632302014-05-21T08:36:00.001+04:002014-05-21T11:23:18.654+04:00MomAbout a week after my last blog post, my mother died. She had cancer. <br />
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I don't have any eloquent words about cancer and what it means or doesn't mean. I only have faith that my mother is with God, looking out for her children and grandchildren as she did while she was on earth.<br />
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We miss her.<br />
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-83933650952580597162014-04-23T14:12:00.001+04:002014-04-23T14:12:44.325+04:00ХРИСТОС ВОСКРЕСЕ!Pascha is here again. We celebrated as we always do - with lots of church during Holy Week, the baking of kulich, dyeing of eggs, taking the kids to church at midnight, Easter baskets and our annual Pascha party. I did not do a great job of getting photos of most of these events this year, but here is what I have.<br />
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Cooling kulich in "vintage" coffee cans and new Moscow-purchased specialty pans.<br />
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Bleary-eyed kiddos getting ready to head to church at midnight.<br />
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Breaking the fast with kulich, paskha, prosciutto and cheese after church.<br />
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Morning Easter baskets.<br />
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-6687136594038181302014-04-14T08:13:00.001+04:002014-04-14T10:36:22.568+04:00Staycation, continued Our staycation is long since over, but I still have some photos to post. <br />
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We spent a few mornings exploring parts of the town we hadn't seen yet. On my list was this church, that sits on a ridge to the south above the Old Town. <br />
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We didn't know what it was called, nor how to get there, but we were able to use our GPS to find it when we were in the vicinity. Turned out it is a small monastery, and there was a service going on. I did not take photos inside the church, which was lovely.<br />
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The view was fantastic.<br />
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We next went to the Metekhi Church, which stands on a cliff on the left bank of the Mtkvari River.<br />
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The statue of King Vakhtang Gorgasali in front of the church is very often photographed from the north, but the sun was in the wrong place at the time we were there, so here he is from the back.<br />
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Tbilisi really is a beautiful city.<br />
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It was a very windy day - check out the water fountain. <br />
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After all that touring, we were hungry. We went down to the Turkish restaurant row in the Marjanishvili district and checked out the Ankara cafeteria. The food was great, with lots of Lenten options (and some really yummy looking meat dishes that we will check out after Pascha). <br />
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-148067009455346652014-03-30T15:15:00.002+04:002014-03-30T15:15:46.008+04:00Kid birthday, Georgian-styleLast Thursday, when I picked the girls up from school, one of the teachers handed me an invitation to a classmate's birthday party. For the next evening. Starting at 8 p.m.<br />
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Yes, 8 p.m.<br />
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I had heard of these late-night kid birthday parties before, for they are the stuff of legend around the Embassy.<br />
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"Can you believe it? My kids are in bed at 8 p.m.!"<br />
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"My daughter's Georgian classmate doesn't go to bed until midnight."<br />
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Etc.<br />
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I did not want to go. J didn't want to go either. I think I've mentioned <i>justafewtimes </i>how sick this house has been over the last few months. We are tired, people. I'd been getting to bed before 9 myself most nights lately. <br />
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But the girls were dying to go and I figured it would be good for them to socialize with their classmates outside of school. So we went, and they had a blast.<br />
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There were princesses.<br />
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And Hello Kitty and clowns and dancing. <br />
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And bubbles.<br />
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And Roman candles - shooting out of the cake, and later out of the dance floor!<br />
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We closed the place down (at 10 p.m.). The kids obliged by sleeping in an extra hour until 8:30 the next morning.<br />
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I should note that this was not a typical Georgian birthday party - it was a typical <i>wealthy</i> Georgian birthday party. The mother of the birthday girl (who made her entrance in a fur shrug and ball-gown tutu, though sadly I missed that photo opportunity) was wearing Christian Louboutin platform heels.<br />
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This is one of the odd things that Foreign Service kids encounter overseas in developing countries. Many of the locals who can afford private school tend to be very wealthy. This means that, as the kids get older, it is likely that they will have classmates who have personal drivers, designer clothing, extravagant allowances, and often a minimum of parental supervision. I went to school with kids like that in junior high school in Tel Aviv, and my siblings encountered the same in junior and high school in Tashkent and Kyiv. <br />
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As I pare down for the move and try to get my kids into the mood to do the same, I'm finding that there are lessons both in their classmates who "have everything," and in the gypsy kids on the street who have nothing. Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-15481464969592138462014-03-25T21:48:00.002+04:002014-03-25T21:48:42.145+04:00StaycationI was lucky to grow up in a family that vacationed most years - sometimes twice. Whenever we were living in the U.S., we took a summer vacation - either to the beach or the mountains - and sometimes a winter cross-country ski vacation. When overseas, we always used our R&R tickets to travel home and spend quality time with the grandparents. In the days before Skype and Youtube, and when McDonalds was only found in the United States, my father felt that yearly trips home were important for his children to stay in touch with their American roots.<br />
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In the global age, the latter point isn't such a concern for families anymore, and since we are moving back to the States this summer, we had actually planned to take an R&R to Israel in late March or early April of this year. But due to some unforeseen circumstances at work for J, he ended up taking last week off. Our family has been thoroughly beaten with the sick stick this winter, and we couldn't even contemplate packing up the kids and dragging them somewhere (even by car) for more than a day trip. Seriously, I feel like my entire house is covered in snot. And other stuff.<br />
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So a staycation it was.<br />
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We kicked off our staycation with a planned day trip to Stepantsminda. <br />
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That line at the top of the map is the Georgian/Russian border. Stepantsminda is the nearest town to Mount Kazbeg, which is the highest mountain in Georgia. There is a famous and oft-photographed church there which we were hoping to see.<br />
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It is worth noting that we took this trip the day after we worked in the garden without our jackets on. I remember hearing stories of life in Beirut's glory days, when you could swim in the morning and ski in the afternoon. Georgia sometimes feels like that. There is a lot of varied weather within a short radius of Tbilisi.<br />
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Gudauri, a ski resort on the way to Stepantsminda, had gotten a fair dumping of snow that morning, with total accumulation of 12-18" forecast for the day.<br />
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Not long after we passed through Gudauri, we were stopped. The pass between Gudauri and Stepantsminda was closed for plowing. The first officer we spoke to said it would not reopen until 7 p.m. (we arrived at 11 a.m.). The next officer told us it would reopen sooner, but he wasn't sure. We waited for about 40 minutes.<br />
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After the Tinkerbell movie had ended (in-car DVD players are the best!), we decided to cut our losses and head for home. <br />
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Day trip fail.<br />
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We arrived home pretty tired; I think I went to bed at 8 that night. The rest of the week we sent the kids to school and were much more low-key. <br />
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Stay tuned for more exciting staycation adventures.<br />
Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-19310720530579497142014-03-20T07:06:00.001+04:002014-03-20T07:19:31.431+04:00Garden surpriseIt must be noted that I am a very lazy gardener. Last fall, I planted the garden, and when it became clear that it wasn't going to produce much, I just left it for dead. Didn't water it, didn't weed it, etc. Bad gardener!<br />
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So, when I returned to the garden last weekend, I wasn't surprised to find that a good part of it was choked with weeds. I was, however, very surprised to find a number of teeny tiny plants that had survived the winter (and more strikingly, my neglect).<br />
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Teeny tiny lettuces (post-weeding). <br />
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Teeny tiny snap peas.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotFjNTg-xz6__Jic3Hbax4VSwwIeGio9Zv1taDlecSdcWfRMn-QerjY_49EDD1ngX0XJ-dyFXt9KU0OFkda3H1AGNXIR5QXic3gMDgjECySHxUq7AnkHouV0Rv6JzdCQXxxSuCORlwaU/s1600/IMG_7664.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotFjNTg-xz6__Jic3Hbax4VSwwIeGio9Zv1taDlecSdcWfRMn-QerjY_49EDD1ngX0XJ-dyFXt9KU0OFkda3H1AGNXIR5QXic3gMDgjECySHxUq7AnkHouV0Rv6JzdCQXxxSuCORlwaU/s1600/IMG_7664.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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Teeny tiny kale.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTx2tMYrApY3DoTSwf3x8X_xqa21259wk4KGSLI754szL-OqVR51Fs8KmHtkuP0Jh-aQ_6YV9eMFMa1ZDeAj-IznaKmG3HCmoQPjgjAcIC6Mq10Dj8MWCKqX6n8SsQUcV6DghLqDVz694/s1600/IMG_7666.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTx2tMYrApY3DoTSwf3x8X_xqa21259wk4KGSLI754szL-OqVR51Fs8KmHtkuP0Jh-aQ_6YV9eMFMa1ZDeAj-IznaKmG3HCmoQPjgjAcIC6Mq10Dj8MWCKqX6n8SsQUcV6DghLqDVz694/s1600/IMG_7666.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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One teeny tiny beet, roughly in the center of the photo.<br />
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J also built me a raised bed (background) which I will plant with lettuce, spinach and a few herbs. <br />
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We went to the garden center to pick up soil, and while there, the girls each picked out two flowering plants (to the right in this photo, they each have their own window box), and we bought six strawberry plants. The raspberries and blackberries I bought last summer did horribly after I planted them into the ground (which is basically just building materials left over from the houses piled up with some clay), so I figured I'd try putting the strawberries into containers. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3agCht6j4KJDoZYuasd26tE3rFh15KkwR2cyT-jtWkMC73H5HiPp82u3RLhLmfNLO5wefS1Vboi9PYoDLffDHvTaYmNj2XZmjVbuHdtHdHlUjPj8NFFNb0BM-1K0HVrnUIdWkgpLq8wk/s1600/IMG_7667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> We'll see what happens!Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-75438007088200529802014-03-10T08:06:00.000+04:002014-03-10T08:06:00.100+04:00End of tour: The state of the pantryWith less than four months to go until we head home, I've been taking stock of what remains of our consumables and trying to use up what's left. As always, there are things that we didn't bring enough of, and things of which we brought way too much. So I find myself having conversations like this with our kids:<br />
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<i>Sorry, no more hot fudge sauce. Why don't you top your ice cream with some yummy homemade sweet chili sauce instead?</i></div>
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<i>We're out of ketchup, but this Trader Joe's Yellow Curry Sauce will be delicious on your fries!</i></div>
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As our whole wheat rotini stash dwindles, I find myself thinking of creative ways to use up rice vermicelli (a little of that stuff goes a long way and I have LOTS). I also have, like, a case of rice vinegar and about three cases of light coconut milk. We could eat curried rice noodles every day for the next two months. We've been making smoothies just about every day using frozen fruit and coconut milk so I think we will be able to use that up. But five bags of shredded coconut? I guess I should start making macaroons (not to be confused with macarons, which I should also get cracking on, to use up all the almond meal in my freezer).<br />
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62 cans of coconut milk<br />
18 cans of refried black beans<br />
13 bottles of rice vinegar<br />
12 boxes of quinoa<br />
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11 packages of rice noodles</div>
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10 jars of almond butter</div>
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7 bottles each of TJ red and yellow curry sauces</div>
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6 jars of coconut oil<br />
6 pounds of sushi rice<br />
5 packages of shredded coconut</div>
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5 pounds of brown rice rotini</div>
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5 bottles of vanilla extract</div>
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4 bottles of Trader Joe's goddess dressing<br />
4 bottles of maple syrup</div>
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4 pounds of almond meal</div>
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3 bottles of tamari</div>
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3 pounds of whole wheat rotini</div>
2 pounds of red lentils<br />
2 liters of fish sauce (why I thought I needed to buy that stuff in <i>liters</i> escapes me at the moment).<br />
2 5-lb sacks of whole wheat flour<br />
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And a partridge in a pear tree.<br />
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<a href="http://www.halfbakedharvest.com/epic-crispy-quinoa-burgers-topped-sweet-potato-fries-beer-caramelized-onions-gruyere/">Quinoa burgers</a>, anyone?<br />
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What's left on your pantry shelves at the end of a consumables tour?<br />
<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-15537781505434719322014-03-07T21:29:00.002+04:002014-03-08T20:08:26.111+04:00A walk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last weekend dawned sunny and warm(er). So we decided to take a walk up the hill behind our house. </div>
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The girls made sure to bring walking sticks (aka poles from my drying rack).<br />
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We stopped and had a little snack picnic of crackers and Georgian fruit leather.<br />
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The girls explored this valley, which sadly was filled with old shoes and rusty barbed wire.<br />
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We ran into a local shepherd and his flock.<br />
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And then we went home for lunch.<br />
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<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-4863032232876941332014-03-02T09:10:00.000+04:002014-03-02T10:09:25.845+04:00DancingLast weekend we went out to eat with some friends. There is a restaurant very close to our house that we drive by every day but have never gone into. It is along a major highway with a parking lot under a crumbling bridge - I guess I figured that it wouldn't be a very good restaurant because it is in such a strange location. As it turns out, the food is Georgian, with the standard preparations that don't vary that much from establishment to establishment.<br />
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Like many of those other places, this place had a rustic decor and live music. What set it apart, though, is that the live music started earlier than 9 p.m. We went at 5:30 and the music began shortly thereafter. The patrons at the table next to ours were already knee-deep into a bottle of vodka when we arrived, and were happy to dance with the girls.<br />
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Yes, we let the girls dance with strangers. We were all
right there, and this is Georgia. Everyone loves kids (in the good way, not the gross way) and the perv
ratio is smaller here than in the U.S.<br />
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I actually have a
theory on this. I don't think the human impulse is different here.
But I do think that things like horrible crimes against children are the "luxury" of a comfortable society. Here, your average Georgian has to
spend a lot more time worrying about finding work, or affording the next
meal, or heating their home (if they are lucky enough for that). That
kind of life just doesn't leave a lot of time or energy for pervy indulgence.<br />
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The band played local instruments and sang the wonderful harmonies Georgian music is known for. The band members were in their early 20s at the oldest but had I just heard their voices on a recording I would have assumed they were middle-aged. The singing was excellent. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drumming on the floor to provide accompaniment to Z's moves.</td></tr>
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-50071928389000128672014-02-24T12:33:00.002+04:002014-02-24T22:14:15.620+04:00A saint's processionThe relics of the Georgian Saint Gabriel Urgebadze were transferred from the Samtavro Monastery in Mtskheta, where he lived, to Tbilisi's gold-domed Sameba (Transfiguration) cathedral this week. <a href="http://monkgabriel.ge/eng">Saint Gabriel</a>, who was canonized in 2012, died in 1995 and many miracles, healings in particular, have been attributed to him.<br />
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A procession like this is a once-in-a-lifetime, if that, event for an Orthodox Christian, so I decided to go.<br />
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I drove to Mtskheta on Friday night to see whether I could enter the monastery, and to find out the particulars about the procession on Saturday. I stood outside the monastery gates with several hundred other pilgrims for two hours, many of whom sang hymns and read the akathist to the saint, until the soldiers posted there finally told us to go home. No one was allowed inside the monastery except for a few groups of nuns and some men with shovels.<br />
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Finally we were told that the monk's body would be exhumed the following day at 8 a.m., and that the pedestrian procession from Samtavro to Svetiskhoveli (the main church in Mtskheta) would occur at 12.<br />
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I arrived in Mtskheta at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday. The police were not letting cars into the city; pilgrims were arriving by bus and marshrutka that were operating for free for the purposes of the pilgrimage. When the police officer stopped me at the turnoff for Mtskheta, he asked for my "propusk" (permit). I showed him my diplomatic ID card. He looked at me skeptically. I explained that my husband works at the U.S. Embassy but that I was a pilgrim going to Saint Gabriel's monastery. He waved me through. I made it the rest of the way without incident. Everyone else was let off their public transport at the bridge into town and had to walk a couple miles to the monastery.<br />
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When I arrived at the monastery at 7:30 a.m., the pre-service reading was being broadcast over the monastery walls by a large speaker. There were already easily a thousand people there. This is significant because Georgians don't generally do much of anything until 10 a.m. at the earliest. It was cold and rainy, so some had started small fires on the hillside to keep warm.<br />
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Thousands of soldiers had been bussed in for crowd control. I will admit that at first I was very put off by the barricades and rows of uniformed men facing the crowd. But later it became evident that these measures were necessary.<br />
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Most people were not allowed into the monastery. Periodically a few people would walk up the street between the barricades. Usually they were monastics or handicapped. The soldiers helped out by pushing the wheelchair-bound up to the church, and carrying sick children, or someone's crutches. It was touching.<br />
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The service lasted until after 1 p.m. As it got later, the crowd got thicker, until we were pressed so tightly together that I wasn't actually bearing all my weight on my feet anymore. Had the soldiers and barricades not been there, the crush of people would have been huge and I'm sure someone would have been trampled.<br />
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At 1:30, the procession finally came out. A wall of soldiers, arms linked, filed out first, followed by monastics carrying a large icon of the saint, a pedestal for his coffin, and finally the coffin itself (which is not what Saint Gabriel was originally buried in; according to his wishes and monastic custom he was buried wrapped in fabric and strapped to a board). The soldiers manning the barricades removed their hats in respect at the saint's relics went by. I have to say that this would not have happened in Moscow. Georgians as a whole are a religious people - something that I have really appreciated about my time here.<br />
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The tenacity of these pilgrims really amazed me. The air was raw and bone-chilling. It was raining. I nearly left myself several times. My back burned, I couldn't feel my feet, and it took me over an hour to thaw out in front of a roaring fire once I got home. Yet there were children there, who stood the whole time.<br />
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After the crowd had thinned out, I wanted to get into the monastery. Many miracles, mostly healings, are attributed to the oil from the lampada at the saint's grave, and I wanted to get some for sick family members. The first soldier I asked would not let me through the barricade. I walked 20 feet further and asked again; this time I was let in.<br />
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Within the monastery walls, a small crowd of people surrounded St. Gabriel's former grave, passing down plastic bags which men at the bottom filled with dirt and passed back up. People also sent down their crosses and prayer beads to be placed onto the grave for blessing.<br />
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I also went into the church, which was really beautiful. I didn't take any photos in there though.<br />
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I went back to Mtskheta on Sunday to venerate St. Gabriel at Svetiskhoveli, Mtskheta's main church.<br />
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Again, it was a gray, raw day. When I first saw the <strike>mob</strike> line, I thought, "Well, that's not too bad."<br />
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Then I stood in it for an hour, barely moving. <br />
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We were pressed nose-to-back and I had to fight the urge to panic. It got me thinking about what a soft American I am. The crush didn't faze the Georgians - even the small children in line didn't cry. I also started thinking about what sorts of events people in the United States would be willing to wait hours for, and in such an uncomfortable mob. All I could come up with was <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/29/business/29walmart.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0">Black Friday sales</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Who_concert_disaster">rock concerts</a> and I admit, it made me sad for the state of my people.<br />
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Finally some soldiers came and formed a two-layer barricade at the front, to control the number of people who got into the actual church at a time.<br />
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After that it was only another 40 minutes until I got into the church, and the 20 minutes until I made it to the front. At the front, a priest stood by the open casket. His job was to move the line along. He gave each person approximately three-quarters of a second to kiss the side of the coffin before pushing their heads away and in the direction of the exit. Because of this I only got a fleeting glimpse of the saint. He was covered in a black shroud; it was clear his body had not been corrupted. A strong smell of roses emanated from him.</div>
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It was an incredible experience. St. Gabriel was processed to Sameba, Tbilisi's main gold-domed cathedral, today. He will remain there for a week to give more faithful the opportunity to venerate him, before returning to Svetiskhoveli, which will be his final resting place.Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-20699104396278087942014-02-21T08:30:00.000+04:002014-02-22T21:32:22.657+04:00NutcrackerNatasha and I went to see the Nutcracker last weekend. Mid-February does seem a little late for this particular ballet, but that is when it was playing in Tbilisi, and I really wanted to take the girls. We ended up giving away two of our tickets because poor Z came down with the pox, so it was a mommy-and-me night for me and my oldest.<br />
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She sat on my lap during the ballet because, although tall for a 4-year-old, she is still too short to see while seated in those comfy blue chairs.<br />
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She was enraptured for the entire first act and a good chunk of the second. The show was more or less what I expected, having seen this ballet a few times. The production did put a national twist on it by clothing the Coffee dancers in traditional clothing and having them do Georgian-style dancing.<br />
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Around the Sugar Plum Fairy's third entrance, N decided enough was enough, and we went home. I didn't really blame her - I always felt like the Sugar Plum Fairy's repeat appearances were actually the most boring part of the whole ballet. I much prefer all the dancers before her, especially the Tea dancers and the Trepak dancers.<br />
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This was Natasha's favorite part:<br />
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And N doing some reenactment on the way to the car.<br />
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-70845345460391125012014-02-19T22:31:00.000+04:002014-02-19T22:31:10.931+04:00My baby is 1Gabriel turned 1 today. I know everyone says this, but man, this year went <i>sofreakingfast.</i> <br />
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I cannot believe we've had him for a year. (I also can't believe he still does not sleep through the night, but that is a topic for another time, or never).<br />
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I made him a "smash cake" and he distinguished himself among our children by being the only one who did not cry upon being presented with a 1st birthday cake. <br />
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He ate most of the frosting and a few bites of actual cake. Yesterday I gave him some of the cake scraps while I was assembling it - he loved them. But I guess when you have cake AND frosting, frosting wins. He takes after his mama. I made<a href="http://www.foodiewithfamily.com/2011/08/26/snickerdoodle-cake-with-brown-sugar-cinnamon-buttercream/"> snickerdoodle cake with brown sugar buttercream</a> - it is amazing and you should make some.<br />
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My little boy is growing up.</div>
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<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-57837020152407374502014-02-17T08:00:00.000+04:002014-02-17T08:00:00.724+04:00Heart-shaped foodThe girls and I made heart-shaped sugar cookies for Valentine's Day.<br />
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We decorated them with royal icing (I used this meringue powder and<a href="http://www.wilton.com/recipe/Royal-Icing"> this recipe</a>) and sprinkles. I colored the icing with juice from frozen berries - I just nuked them until they burst and then strained out the juice and used it in the recipe instead of water. I also added some lemon juice to mask the flavor of the meringue powder, which I think is pretty gross. The meringue powder, it turns out, contains some artificial crap, so I think I will go back to egg whites for royal icing.<br />
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Z didn't seem to mind the taste.<br />
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My original plan was to surprise Jeremy with the cookies at work. <br />
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However, Zoia apparently has the chicken pox, and as our housekeeper cannot remember whether she ever had it (?!), she is staying away for the next week. So we are homebound and can't in good conscience give anyone our pox cookies anyway.<br />
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More for us, I guess.<br />
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I also made some heart-shaped garlic knots to go with our dinner last night (recipe to follow). They were pretty quick to make - I decided I wanted to make them 90 minutes before dinner and even with the yeast rising time, they were ready in time.<br />
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Brushed with garlic oil and drizzled with parsley and kosher salt. If I had had parmesan cheese on hand I would have used that too.<br />
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<b>Heart-shaped herb-garlic rolls (makes 15 small rolls).</b><br />
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Ingredients:<br />
1 T active dry yeast<br />
3/4 c warm water<br />
1 T sugar<br />
1.75 c flour<br />
1 T salt<br />
2 T olive oil<br />
2 tsp dried basil<br />
1 Tbs garlic powder<br />
2 tsp dried oregano<br />
2 tsp dried thyme<br />
<br />
3 Tbs olive oil<br />
1 large garlic clove<br />
1 tsp salt (if you are using kosher, double the amount)<br />
2 Tbs minced parsley<br />
grated parmesan cheese (optional)<br />
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Stir yeast and sugar into the water, allow to sit five minutes, or until bubbly. If it doesn't get bubbly within about 10 minutes, your yeast is bad; start over with new yeast. Stir in salt, flour, olive oil and spices, and knead, adding additional flour if necessary, until the dough is smooth and elastic (I use my KitchenAid with dough hook for this). Allow to rise for 30 minutes. While the dough is rising, preheat your oven to 400 and grease a cookie sheet or prepare it with parchment paper.<br />
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After dough has risen a bit (it does not have to double), take golf-ball sized globs of dough and roll them into snakes between your hands. Connect the snake at the top and push into a heart shape. I found that pinching the dough at the bottom point of the heart, and the inner point, helped it keep its shape. When they are all rolled, allow to rest for 10 minutes or so, then put in the oven for 18-20 minutes. While they are baking, make the garlic oil: mash the garlic with the salt until it is paste-like, then mix into the olive oil and allow to sit. Chop your parsley and grate your cheese. <br />
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When the rolls are done, brush them immediately with the garlic oil and sprinkle with parsley and cheese. If you are not eating immediately, put the rolls in a bowl or basket lined with paper towels and cover with a kitchen towel. Mine stayed piping hot for 30 minutes this way, and were still warm an hour later.<br />
<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-69419727206064607232014-02-13T09:55:00.002+04:002014-02-13T09:55:48.468+04:00My whimsical husbandGrowing up in the Foreign Service with very practical parents, we were not the sort of family who tried to customize our government-issue housing. I don't even think I understood that walls didn't have to be white until I was well into adulthood. I did spend my high school and college years collecting tapestries and textiles that I thought I would one day use to entirely cover the walls and ceiling of a room in my house - it was going to be the nargileh room, and have pillows on the floor. (Now my kids use those same tapestries to create play houses, and I haven't smoked a nargileh in ages ... how things change!)<br />
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I have held on to the practicality that raised me, and so, when moving around, it has never occurred to me to bring my own furniture (with the exception of our comfy king-sized bed) or to try to paint the walls.<br />
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But I married into some crazy creativity, y'all. My husband comes from a family where white walls are viewed as an unfinished canvas, where the same house might have two different paint colors each year, where, if you are bored with the white ceramic tiles that adorn your fireplace, the natural solution is to run out and buy a dozen different kinds of paint and turn it into a mosaic. The end result was stunning - but never in a million years would this have occurred to me!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgF1_ZVU24c6YwrHFkjpfJXhsWlO05sV9Ch79fnfXKj5zFYNL3npjKnXC_DbS7vd19lEfh_v-0qO-MU2pLmpOpn8_pDyIYBbNmjqUlqjmHxdNB3dCyWcSiO6pXrKNiP8PpObyTpO6h2Tk/s1600/IMG_1976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgF1_ZVU24c6YwrHFkjpfJXhsWlO05sV9Ch79fnfXKj5zFYNL3npjKnXC_DbS7vd19lEfh_v-0qO-MU2pLmpOpn8_pDyIYBbNmjqUlqjmHxdNB3dCyWcSiO6pXrKNiP8PpObyTpO6h2Tk/s1600/IMG_1976.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A three-month-old Natasha with her <br />great-grandpa John in front of said fireplace.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Even now that I have acquired something of a home aesthetic, it doesn't seem worth it to me to try to customize a house that I will only live in for two years. If you take away the time spent settling in, and the time spent packing up, that only leaves 18 months, tops, to enjoy the fruits of your labors. And I'd rather spend that time sewing.<br />
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Anyway, my husband doesn't feel that way. So while I was back in the States on maternity medevac last year, he took matters into his own hands and created a jungle nursery for Gabriel and a princess room for the girls.<br />
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The elephants are my favorite. They represent our family, and the white doves above represent the two babies we lost to miscarriage. I wish I could separate this part of the wall and take it with us everywhere we go. Maybe I can get a good high-resolution photo of it and put it on a canvas.<br />
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I also really love this monkey.<br />
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The princesses' chamber. <br />
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The woodland friends wall decals by N's bed were out in the hall, but she decided she wanted then in the room, so ...<br />
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See the little frog prince to the right of the door?<br />
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Sun and moon on the ceiling:<br />
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And my favorite - the little dragon soaring up in the clouds:<br />
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The girls are going to miss this room when we leave. I think J may want to recreate it when we move home. It just seems like a huge pain to me. My practical streak is ingrained.<br />
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Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-25916789606714395592014-02-10T11:33:00.000+04:002014-02-10T11:33:49.099+04:00Eczema updateI have been meaning to post an update about her eczema following<a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-week-at-sanatorium.html"> our trip to Nunisi</a>. Around Thanksgiving, just shy of three months after our trip, Natasha ran a low-grade fever for about five straight days. After the fever abated, her skin cleared up. Completely. Not a trace of eczema remained. She didn't scratch at all. It was incredible. And it coincided almost exactly with what the other patients/clients had told me - that we would see significant improvement within about three months of the treatment. I am sure that my daily prayers during that three-month period didn't hurt either. And I don't know whether the fever had anything to do with it, but Jeremy and I had the same thought, that it was related.<br />
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The eczema stayed away for six whole weeks before coming back just slightly. She still has it, but it is nowhere near as bad as it was before we went to Nunisi. We were already planning to return this summer before we head home, but now we may stay longer. Honestly, it was hard on me to be so isolated and alone with all three kids last time, but now that I have seen change, I am more motivated to go for a week. But since Nunisi only opens in June, and we are leaving in early July, going there means we won't get to do some of the other Georgia travel we had hoped to fit in before the end of our tour. Some regions of the country are only accessible in summer and we had planned a road trip in June. But this is more important.<br />
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Sadly, Gabriel seems to have developed some eczema too, in an odd spot - all over his back. Last time they told me he was too young to take the waters, but I'm hoping that this time they'll allow it.<br />
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I really hope this does the trick for us. One other reason I am really scared to go home is that Natasha's eczema flares up every time we go back to DC. It doesn't happen if we fly into Nebraska first, or to the Outer Banks. But without fail, within 24 hours of a return to Washington, she always breaks out. It has happened enough times now that we see a causative effect.<br />
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Now that we know about Nunisi, though, I suppose we could return to Georgia in future summers just to go there. It shouldn't surprise me that we ended up here, as many tears as I have shed praying for relief for Natasha. But it is remarkable all the same.Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-2242707068318077402014-02-07T08:00:00.000+04:002014-02-07T14:04:46.809+04:00Where to Next?That's the question, right? <br />
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Here's the answer.<br />
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Yep, we're going home this summer. Jeremy got a very good job at the State Department and we anticipate we will be in Washington for two or three years.<br />
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And I am scared. We've only been out of the U.S. for four years - but all of a sudden it feels like a lot longer. When we moved to Moscow, my first child was just eight months old. I have spent almost my entire parenting life overseas and suddenly, that seems significant.<br />
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I should be clear. I am very happy that we are going to be able to spend time with family, that our girls and boy will get to know their relatives, get to play with their cousins. But my priorities have shifted during the last four years, and moving home brings with it challenges I wouldn't have thought about five years ago.<br />
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I think the things I am most apprehensive about are:<br />
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1) The relentless availability of stuff, and<br />
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2) GMOs and the general quality of our food.<br />
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On the first point, we have too much stuff. OK, so pretty much every American I know has too much stuff. But just how much, too much, stuff we have, is made clear to us in stark relief every day. Every day when I drive past the scrap-metal shacks near our house, I remember how much un-needed stuff is in my garage. Every time I slip a coin to the gypsy children begging on our route to school and look at their ragged scarves and dirty fingers, I think about all the toys that lie, un-played with, in our playroom. I send bags of stuff out of the house every few weeks, to shelters, to my housekeeper and to her neighbors. But it feels like we are still suffocated with stuff.<br />
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I know that, theoretically, this should be under my control. That I will just have to keep our trips to stores brief and infrequent. Here, we never go shopping for recreational purposes, and I have even cut down significantly on online ordering lately. It feels great, honestly. While in the States, though, I have definitely found myself going to Target just because I was bored. Maybe I won't have time to be bored. One can hope.<br />
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On the second point, I am not naive enough to think that we are not eating genetically modified stuff in Georgia. After all, they do import produce (even sweet potatoes from the U.S., for which I am very thankful). But I do think hormones, antibiotics and GMOs are fewer in our food supply here. I already told Jeremy we'd be spending a lot more on food when we go back to the States, as I will try to buy hormone-free and organic as much as possible. Our checking account is already quaking in fear.<br />
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So anyway, yeah. Back to DC in summer 2014. Ready or not.Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-78618426329246366142014-02-05T08:00:00.000+04:002014-02-05T08:00:03.288+04:00Kid sewingToday I have a post about teaching my girls to sew. Check it out at <a href="http://itinerantseamstress.blogspot.com/2014/02/little-seamstresses-in-making.html">The Itinerant Seamstress.</a>Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-15779022554680019712014-02-03T10:28:00.001+04:002014-02-03T21:08:29.830+04:00In case you care about what we did 15 months ago ...<br />
I never did blog about our trip to Yerevan in November 2012, and I really want to. <br />
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If you have been reading this blog for awhile, you may know that Jeremy and I met in Yerevan in 2005. I was at the Embassy for my first tour, and Jeremy was finishing up three years in country - two in the Peace Corps and one teaching 5th grade at the international school - when we met at a poker game. Shortly after I departed post, we got married. So for me, Yerevan is filled with memories of early dating, falling in love and wedding planning.<br />
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We wanted to take our kids back to the place where we had met, so we drove down from Tbilisi over Veteran's Day weekend.<br />
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View on the road:<br />
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We spent two nights at the Aviatrans hotel in downtown Yerevan (good location, reasonable accommodations for a reasonable price) and spent most of our time reacquainting ourselves with the city and making the rounds to see old friends.<br />
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The girls in front of my old voice teacher's apartment building.</div>
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My teacher, Susannah, and her daughter Astghik had us over for lunch.<br />
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Natasha was into sticking her tongue out in pictures. Thank goodness that phase is over!<br />
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Just strollin' around town ...</div>
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Taking in the sights ...</div>
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Posing for old time's sake in front of Mount Ararat. Seeing this photo made me feel so old.</div>
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We took the girls to Square One, the "American" burger joint that really isn't, but which was the closest thing available eight years ago.</div>
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And to Tumanian Shwarma, which was one of our favorite spots for a quick lunch back in the day. Natasha liked the shwarma.</div>
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Zoia, not so much. (I was about six months pregnant with Gabriel at the time of this trip).</div>
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We took in a great music and lights show at the Republic Square fountain one night.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoisRuLV4jTSdfgjZ5SFTkyV7rn8xXMykwAQIQAKljmNbkZff80z1iGTwGA6gk-yJ3IUfF_AsZcKQYOagoA_qjexhsoTfOELVtjhLkNXLwLdwxLxrah8indQnXE7qDo2ABxOacI6AjxUE/s1600/IMG_7571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoisRuLV4jTSdfgjZ5SFTkyV7rn8xXMykwAQIQAKljmNbkZff80z1iGTwGA6gk-yJ3IUfF_AsZcKQYOagoA_qjexhsoTfOELVtjhLkNXLwLdwxLxrah8indQnXE7qDo2ABxOacI6AjxUE/s1600/IMG_7571.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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And had dinner at another old friend's house.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XzHhHDpUilxtV67yqdZGzlSW5pDrxyvRE6nmXmc1rItpURuRQXnpmbR5afBBAC8-akJSuJRDk3JypPSVO1OybJNFjZ_pRMjiSG7ZbjhxuSwoqtdqZ7GoTqfbO8SrCksPDuUJeYbPlQ4/s1600/IMG_7615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XzHhHDpUilxtV67yqdZGzlSW5pDrxyvRE6nmXmc1rItpURuRQXnpmbR5afBBAC8-akJSuJRDk3JypPSVO1OybJNFjZ_pRMjiSG7ZbjhxuSwoqtdqZ7GoTqfbO8SrCksPDuUJeYbPlQ4/s1600/IMG_7615.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Then it was time to go home. Past Lake Sevan ...</div>
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... and stopping over in Dilijan, to have lunch with Jeremy's host family from Peace Corps language training days. </div>
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It was good to visit, but hard, too. Georgia has made such strides since the last time I had been here. I had forgotten all of the challenges Armenia faces - its geographic isolation, closed borders, extreme poverty and the ongoing tug-of-war between Russian and Western influence. Sadly, not much has changed there.</div>
Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-16157123669306076322014-02-01T22:28:00.002+04:002014-02-01T22:28:55.274+04:00SnowWe have had two days of beautiful, fluffy snow. Gabriel woke up projectile-vomiting on Friday, so I kept the girls home from school to spare him the long car rides for drop-off and pick-up. He napped most of the day, so the girls and I spent a lot of time outside. Today it kept coming down - there has probably been a good 6 inches, if not more, of accumulation.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDH9wsKmji-XFJaUHD2Ow7xrdFtOLVyD92S2QVrp0GkUiybf7SW7BkMb7igYDryxv2i6W1H9LQELRw4l5GaBnnduHMpqUSDnFUoYNGNPgG7E5PpcmXaiJkQbx5-P1P39LbxG2nAhOF9c/s1600/IMG_4392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDH9wsKmji-XFJaUHD2Ow7xrdFtOLVyD92S2QVrp0GkUiybf7SW7BkMb7igYDryxv2i6W1H9LQELRw4l5GaBnnduHMpqUSDnFUoYNGNPgG7E5PpcmXaiJkQbx5-P1P39LbxG2nAhOF9c/s1600/IMG_4392.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Cleaning the cars was their favorite activity ...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIMQARRHIoPLXRj0JhlOiEGvkiBDC4Sul6sAok9zB4nhrGUzatb18PEWvU2otzBpJYRwAGXEKWpxFAIy2-Dhdd2vKP_pILRnC_4VYImGuNlzNUTkJjTXx8iEerDo3PEYnsNIbSOdLLCY/s1600/IMG_4397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIMQARRHIoPLXRj0JhlOiEGvkiBDC4Sul6sAok9zB4nhrGUzatb18PEWvU2otzBpJYRwAGXEKWpxFAIy2-Dhdd2vKP_pILRnC_4VYImGuNlzNUTkJjTXx8iEerDo3PEYnsNIbSOdLLCY/s1600/IMG_4397.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87q97XFSyVMPLzedShr4ePqgprM5894RnWThYwmpey3ppq9ZyAuh6GfQ0FD5GRCLCKPHYNRZyEQJslKm_jQozBMnLLbQ4Ow040G7FdHwULzT9VEImhmovYwzSskQh_NDule9wkm9H7LA/s1600/IMG_4460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj87q97XFSyVMPLzedShr4ePqgprM5894RnWThYwmpey3ppq9ZyAuh6GfQ0FD5GRCLCKPHYNRZyEQJslKm_jQozBMnLLbQ4Ow040G7FdHwULzT9VEImhmovYwzSskQh_NDule9wkm9H7LA/s1600/IMG_4460.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lht1jXiT-6DT4-Jb11la3u2TqpP3gT77M1t7Zdh_ov0fwKCJ0eUTaIXUuKAg5eLi1HXIGAIBgyVpdsWomi82WdztB_Kn3g6vxHriSY2RaqwOn0Noa1uKpTz0HDjdiuJZbBJWdDJCbpo/s1600/IMG_4463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lht1jXiT-6DT4-Jb11la3u2TqpP3gT77M1t7Zdh_ov0fwKCJ0eUTaIXUuKAg5eLi1HXIGAIBgyVpdsWomi82WdztB_Kn3g6vxHriSY2RaqwOn0Noa1uKpTz0HDjdiuJZbBJWdDJCbpo/s1600/IMG_4463.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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... closely followed by making snow angels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6U4JLOCW6DkEpDnZaa675CMnApAh_W-7gG162EnbmHa-R1gMoAkGa8JKamcC7FrZHHy662uxxyE-ajsRwNvodfB_3lqTwo6HZIGMg8n3bzQ8lyNpE6HcAnIq7VLeQ47lGaT6IcOSwx8/s1600/IMG_4394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6U4JLOCW6DkEpDnZaa675CMnApAh_W-7gG162EnbmHa-R1gMoAkGa8JKamcC7FrZHHy662uxxyE-ajsRwNvodfB_3lqTwo6HZIGMg8n3bzQ8lyNpE6HcAnIq7VLeQ47lGaT6IcOSwx8/s1600/IMG_4394.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRadmSlt7WRsK5JLr5rlmuD7JsA-wD7Iu2xB4eeXeL1aGyJSvFZReNEOsOV7FRaC3ojCwicNnHxUKREU7nWWWVXXyCqxd5jxQ-ex6qDGmWGQJG7OyvjreZzPAEk-7cMCsOvhLtJQvBPRo/s1600/IMG_4416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRadmSlt7WRsK5JLr5rlmuD7JsA-wD7Iu2xB4eeXeL1aGyJSvFZReNEOsOV7FRaC3ojCwicNnHxUKREU7nWWWVXXyCqxd5jxQ-ex6qDGmWGQJG7OyvjreZzPAEk-7cMCsOvhLtJQvBPRo/s1600/IMG_4416.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Throwing snow is also great fun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYg6SFHaIYYa6fHO4riDg0P8syhWkjI4Bu0gNdpXWS9rTlDl4y_7TCiV44E4kATKNs3L0s8EPMZ7KzirGwjyFbJ5CINjUF6Mp9B64WmnbB5s3BoWY2PgELn4aW7e0D4_Jy5h13P1K6l38/s1600/IMG_4399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYg6SFHaIYYa6fHO4riDg0P8syhWkjI4Bu0gNdpXWS9rTlDl4y_7TCiV44E4kATKNs3L0s8EPMZ7KzirGwjyFbJ5CINjUF6Mp9B64WmnbB5s3BoWY2PgELn4aW7e0D4_Jy5h13P1K6l38/s1600/IMG_4399.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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There was also the playground to explore.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvI461Yz8s8mk0jLeO3QphfW4SAr3KSmKBbuh2OYIGQKMTyzxWr6yOs2o2InOBevtpPQAUWpfUbhce68oJfrC2B-enoY_-py8kgQC1QLVQCxhpWSIXLsMMNTA97dZcoywQ-Q7wObqxTAE/s1600/IMG_4417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvI461Yz8s8mk0jLeO3QphfW4SAr3KSmKBbuh2OYIGQKMTyzxWr6yOs2o2InOBevtpPQAUWpfUbhce68oJfrC2B-enoY_-py8kgQC1QLVQCxhpWSIXLsMMNTA97dZcoywQ-Q7wObqxTAE/s1600/IMG_4417.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRz-bx7tvyQprdRJrDWOKUEsiQZrEq42r4ek_8yNUqUP2_-mTnrf8GdWqZFX-BFcEEcty1gmrc_65HrIEQ4SP7let3tB9JwHGaMLd9x3b7JE-RjYqole0eFW8T2yKlE6glL-DloQ-1E_I/s1600/IMG_4424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRz-bx7tvyQprdRJrDWOKUEsiQZrEq42r4ek_8yNUqUP2_-mTnrf8GdWqZFX-BFcEEcty1gmrc_65HrIEQ4SP7let3tB9JwHGaMLd9x3b7JE-RjYqole0eFW8T2yKlE6glL-DloQ-1E_I/s1600/IMG_4424.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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I didn't manage to get photos of the snow cookie factory they set up in the yard, but here are some bonus pics.<br />
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And an unrelated one of Gabriel since he hasn't been featured much lately.<br />
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Rubbing some soup into his hair before bed.Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-77846165298171607372014-01-30T08:07:00.000+04:002014-01-30T08:07:15.753+04:00Skiing in BakurianiThe Saturday before MLK day, we left Gabriel with the nanny and drove to Bakuriani, a ski resort 2.5 hours west of Tbilisi. Bakuriani is known as the more child-friendly ski area in Georgia, and unlike Gudauri (which is a bit closer), Bakuriani actually had snow.<br />
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There are two separate ski areas in Bakuriani - the bunny hill, which features a one-passenger ski lift and a rope tow - and the larger adult area with a gondola and lifts. We stuck to the bunny hills. Jeremy and the girls had skis borrowed from friends, and I rented a set from a guy at the bottom of the hill for about $3/hour. <br />
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Turns out, we could have brought Gabriel. They had strollers on skis for rent.<br />
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Or perhaps he would have preferred a rocking horse on skis? <br />
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So Jeremy and I decided we'd each go up with a girl. The problem was the lack of two-person lifts. To go up, we had to use the rope tow - that thing with the disk attached to it, where you sit on the disk. Only we had to sit on the disk, use one hand to hold on to the rope, and the other to hold up a kid. <br />
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Yeah, it wasn't pretty. Natasha and I fell on our first try. I will say she was a trooper when we finally got going; I had a vise grip on her, around her armpits, and it could not have been comfortable.<br />
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When we got to the top of the hill, I realized that perhaps it was unwise not to do at least one test run by myself first. After all, <a href="http://mashaandjeremy.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmasnativity-20082009.html">the last time I went skiing</a>, I was pregnant with Natasha but did not know it yet. That was awhile ago.</div>
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So I positioned myself in snow plow, with Natasha between my legs, but I just could not get going. Later I figured out that those $3/hour skis were not waxed, or rough-bottomed, or something. Anyway, Jeremy ended up having to go down with Zoia, then take off his skis and walk back up to get Natasha. </div>
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I skied down to Zoia and got her up, then we actually got going. The only proof I have is this crummy picture from Jeremy's Blackberry. Note the armpit stranglehold. Yeah, I'm not a good enough skier to teach someone else how to ski. <br />
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When we got to the bottom of the hill, I asked Z if she wanted to do that again. She didn't. Phew. Neither did I. We hung out at the (very overpriced) cafe and had tea and juice while J and N did a few more runs.<br />
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We bought Natasha an apres-ski cream horn.<br />
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Then we found a restaurant and had lunch, including spicy and delicious "Mexican potatoes" and chkmeruli, which is one of my favorite Georgian dishes.<br />
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Chkmeruli seems to come slightly differently every place I order it, but it is always made of chicken and always has lots of garlic. The best varieties, like this one, come swimming in a bowl of delicious and surely fattening sauce. This one tasted like it had yogurt in it. I really need to do a post about Georgian food.<br />
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On the way home we stopped for some Georgian fruit roll-ups (hanging on a rope at the top of the photo).<br />
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The woman tried to sell me some pine cone jam - really, there were tiny pine cones in it. I should have bought some just to taste it.<br />
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And then we drove home. The crazy wealth juxtapositions in Georgia never cease to amaze me. We drive through villages like this:<br />
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And then stop at rest stops like this (which contains a grocery store and clean bathrooms!):<br />
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<br />Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5937836777955774962.post-19484291952595028462014-01-28T08:00:00.000+04:002014-01-28T08:12:01.593+04:00Move over, Emeril!Way back in 2005, on a first date that neither of us thought would actually lead anywhere, Jeremy cooked me dinner. He lived in a typical apartment in downtown Yerevan; his kitchen was equipped with a two-burner travel stove and a toaster oven. Somehow he managed an impressive dinner of chicken in Roquefort sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes, a cucumber and tomato salad and bread pudding for dessert. Though I generally only like potatoes with a suitably high fat-to-starch ratio, those fingerlings were good and I ate them all.<br />
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Although I wouldn't say we are foodies in the annoying sense of the word, we do enjoy a good meal. Our favorite date is a tasting menu at a new restaurant, and we are big fans of Top Chef (we even own all the cook books).<br />
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So Jeremy was pretty excited to be offered the opportunity to appear on a Georgian cooking show as part of his job. His task was to present some typically American food to a Georgian audience. He had to consider local tastes, and the availability of ingredients. After polling both American and Georgian friends, he settled on a menu of pork chops with fried apples and twice-baked potatoes. <br />
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The segment aired on New Year's Day on Georgian TV. The video is below - it is dubbed in Georgian but if you listen hard you can still hear Jeremy talking.<br />
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We're thinking of sending the clip to the Food Network and are taking name suggestions. "Foreign Service Foodie?" "The Diplomat's Kitchen?"<br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dEun6jwYjNE" width="480"></iframe>Mashahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05364861545043732582noreply@blogger.com2