Today I went to an orthodox service with one of my co-teachers. There aren't any Catholic churches here in Poti, and I haven't been to mass since I got to Georgia. It has been difficult to find time and someone who will take me with them. This morning though I convinced and hounded my co-teacher to let me tag along.
The church is small but beautiful and fairly new or at least recently renovated. Poti is working on rebuilding both of their main churches. The walls were covered with ornate pictures of saints and religious work. No pews or seats were around. People just stood around and shifted as needed when more people entered. The front of the church included a wall with three doors. Two side door and a large center door that was often opened during services for the priest to walk through. On the other side of the wall lays an ornate alter. There was priest and seven men assisting. They ranged in ages from five or six to forties. I think it was a combination of alter boys and deacons.
It was a unique experience. The polyphonic singing is amazing. Four men stood facing each other to sing a beautiful combination of harmonies. Sometimes they all just hummed dissonant pitches while the priest was singing. The music had an uncanny way about echoing through the church. It would vibrate the walls and add even more momentum to the song. It felt like the music would echo through the walls and back into the souls of all those standing in the Church. While I would have loved to sing along or heard some congregation pieces, the amount of music was far greater than a Catholic mass. I'm a bit jealous of that!
I didn't understand much of what was being said in the rapid Georgian. I know that the gospel was the prodigal son. I know that the Priest gave an interesting and humorous homily. I also know that it took 4 1/2 hours! Standing for 4 1/2 hours while trying to decipher Georgian and follow all the signs of crosses was difficult. I could not find cues as to when everyone did the sign of the cross. I tried to be respectful, but I missed a lot of them. (So, Catholics go across their shoulders first and Orthadox touch the shoulder on the right side first. Is this why my first grade Faith Formation Teacher was so insistent about how we did the sign of the cross? Just so we didn't get mistaken as Orthadox Christians? lol) There was also a great deal of kissing icons and crosses as people were leaving the church. I know Catholics do this too sometimes. But watching all the sick people touching the cross was a bit too much for me. The Priest would have let me come up at the end in the line of everybody else, but I politely declined. I love Jesus; I think he'll understand me foregoing kissing his statue for remaining healthy.
The differences were intriguing. It gave me a lot of time to think about how much I take for granted during the services I attend at home every Sunday. Hopefully, I'll get to a Catholic service next time I'm in Tbilisi. I'm grateful for the experience but miss my own services where I know what's going on.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Mast'! Mast'! Mast'!
Mast'savlebeli means teacher in Georgian. And that is what I am here in Georgia. An English Teacher. (Cue song from Bye Bye Birdie. . .) I am working with 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 10th, and 11th grades. I have about 21 lessons each week and work with three different teachers.
Despite the age differences, there are many similarities throughout all of my classes. The first being Georgian students are noisy! They whisper to each other. They practice the material "silently" to themselves. They check answers with each other. They even say "Mast'! Mast'! Mast'!" while trying to get the teacher to call on them. All thirty some of them do this at the same time. My ears are still protesting the sound. I'm sure in a couple more weeks I'll be used to it. Right now, though, I want to cover my ears in most classes. The noise, though, is just a sign of one of the best attributes of Georgian students. They are so excited to learn English. I can't speak about other lessons, but they seem to really want to be in school. They take their education more seriously than many of the Americans I know. These students also have a high tolerance level. The school is often without electricity and therefore heat. They only have chalkboards in the classrooms. No extra books or supplies in the rooms. There is a tiny library and a computer room that seem to rarely be used. There is also only one severely outdated science laboratory for the whole school. Yet, students think their school is beautiful. They appreciate the large classrooms and the things they do have.
The best part of getting to know my students is seeing their confidence emerge. I walk to and from school. That way I get to see more of Poti and burn off some of those calories they keep stuffing down my throat (seriously, Georgians never seem to stop offering me food!). This week I've had four different students approach me on these walks and speak in English with me. The fourth grader only got as far as "Hello, how are you?" but the smile on her face when I responded was resplendent. A seventh grader had a whole conversation with me about my computer. They are timid when conversing, but I take the signs of initiative outside of the classroom as beacons of emerging understanding and retention.
Obviously, It isn't all or even most of my work. I've only been here for three weeks. There was a past volunteer here last semester, and their teachers have been here for years (one has been teaching for over 40 years). These people get the credit for giving students the opportunity to learn the basics of English. I'm just trying to give students another reason to be excited about the material and teachers the opportunity to improve their English with a native speaker. Two of my teachers have been exceptional to work with. They let me read a lot and are open to my suggestions of games and activities that get students speaking aloud. One, however, is difficult to communicate with. She doesn't seem to understand my accent. I have an even harder time understanding her's. She also has a teaching philosophy that is very difficult for me to understand. She yells at students all the time. Sometimes, it seems like for no reason at all. She corrects students in the middle of their attempts to sound out words. When students make a mistake, she screams that they should know it already. A topic is introduced and then reviewed a little the next day. No activities are given to practice or to use the new information in a practical way. The students are just supposed to memorize texts. I try to gently add my suggestions to class. We are still communicating with each other, however, slowly and painfully at times. I think her classes will be the best opportunity for me to challenge my own teaching style. I feel like I can offer those students more, more laughter and more interesting material. I also feel like I can really help this teacher improve her own English. She's obviously been studying a for a long time. She understands the basics but has had little opportunity to use it outside of regurgitating for a classroom. This is the challenge that I wanted. Let's see what happens in the next five months, shall we?
Despite the age differences, there are many similarities throughout all of my classes. The first being Georgian students are noisy! They whisper to each other. They practice the material "silently" to themselves. They check answers with each other. They even say "Mast'! Mast'! Mast'!" while trying to get the teacher to call on them. All thirty some of them do this at the same time. My ears are still protesting the sound. I'm sure in a couple more weeks I'll be used to it. Right now, though, I want to cover my ears in most classes. The noise, though, is just a sign of one of the best attributes of Georgian students. They are so excited to learn English. I can't speak about other lessons, but they seem to really want to be in school. They take their education more seriously than many of the Americans I know. These students also have a high tolerance level. The school is often without electricity and therefore heat. They only have chalkboards in the classrooms. No extra books or supplies in the rooms. There is a tiny library and a computer room that seem to rarely be used. There is also only one severely outdated science laboratory for the whole school. Yet, students think their school is beautiful. They appreciate the large classrooms and the things they do have.
The best part of getting to know my students is seeing their confidence emerge. I walk to and from school. That way I get to see more of Poti and burn off some of those calories they keep stuffing down my throat (seriously, Georgians never seem to stop offering me food!). This week I've had four different students approach me on these walks and speak in English with me. The fourth grader only got as far as "Hello, how are you?" but the smile on her face when I responded was resplendent. A seventh grader had a whole conversation with me about my computer. They are timid when conversing, but I take the signs of initiative outside of the classroom as beacons of emerging understanding and retention.
Obviously, It isn't all or even most of my work. I've only been here for three weeks. There was a past volunteer here last semester, and their teachers have been here for years (one has been teaching for over 40 years). These people get the credit for giving students the opportunity to learn the basics of English. I'm just trying to give students another reason to be excited about the material and teachers the opportunity to improve their English with a native speaker. Two of my teachers have been exceptional to work with. They let me read a lot and are open to my suggestions of games and activities that get students speaking aloud. One, however, is difficult to communicate with. She doesn't seem to understand my accent. I have an even harder time understanding her's. She also has a teaching philosophy that is very difficult for me to understand. She yells at students all the time. Sometimes, it seems like for no reason at all. She corrects students in the middle of their attempts to sound out words. When students make a mistake, she screams that they should know it already. A topic is introduced and then reviewed a little the next day. No activities are given to practice or to use the new information in a practical way. The students are just supposed to memorize texts. I try to gently add my suggestions to class. We are still communicating with each other, however, slowly and painfully at times. I think her classes will be the best opportunity for me to challenge my own teaching style. I feel like I can offer those students more, more laughter and more interesting material. I also feel like I can really help this teacher improve her own English. She's obviously been studying a for a long time. She understands the basics but has had little opportunity to use it outside of regurgitating for a classroom. This is the challenge that I wanted. Let's see what happens in the next five months, shall we?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
On the Vitue of the Color Black
Any where you go in Georgia, you will see crowds of people wearing only black. It is the basic color that every child, man, and woman resorts to when deciding what to wear. From head to toes Georgians cover themselves in Black. This makes monochromatic the norm. There are those who dare to branch out a bit and wear navy, shades of gray, or white. However, the bright colors of red, baby blue, pink, or yellow are rarely seen. It can be a bit overwhelming to walk into school or through the market and just see rolling waves of black. I disturb this cloud of Georgian Black with my bright yellow coat and khakis. There is no better way for me to shout, "I'm a foreigner!" than to wear such vivid colors. I just can't resist. I like color, and I like seeing the startled reactions of those who notice me.
You might be led to believe that the color choice reflects on Georgian personality. I suppose it does, but not in the stereotypical manner in which Americans think of Black. We see Black as a sign or mourning, hiding, or depression. It works well as a base for clothes but should be accented with something bright in order to negate this convention. It would be easy to assume that the Georgians dressed solely in such a dark color would be an unhappy lot or perhaps unwelcoming to strangers. In reality, Georgians are just bidding their time to embrace you. They are extremely welcoming and quick to laughter and generosity. The color needed in life comes out in their personality and reflects strongly against the color choice of their clothes. The person becomes more vivid.
You might be led to believe that the color choice reflects on Georgian personality. I suppose it does, but not in the stereotypical manner in which Americans think of Black. We see Black as a sign or mourning, hiding, or depression. It works well as a base for clothes but should be accented with something bright in order to negate this convention. It would be easy to assume that the Georgians dressed solely in such a dark color would be an unhappy lot or perhaps unwelcoming to strangers. In reality, Georgians are just bidding their time to embrace you. They are extremely welcoming and quick to laughter and generosity. The color needed in life comes out in their personality and reflects strongly against the color choice of their clothes. The person becomes more vivid.