It's been almost 2 months since I arrived in Tbilisi, Georgia but I have put aside updating since, as the story of my life goes, I've been distracted by a plethora of drama and general good times.
Before I left the States, I had asked on numerous occasions for a tentative orientation training schedule during the first week. Not that it would've done any good, but I figured at least I could mentally prepare myself for a potentially arduous schedule. Well, now I realized why they hadn't told me about the schedule beforehand; I, along with a few volunteers, arrived in Tbilisi International Airport around 3 a.m. after spending 11 hours zombie-walking around Munich. We waited for a few hours for a few more to arrive, and then were informed that our presence will be required for breakfast and check-out by 9. We arrived at our hotel at 6. Sleeping has never been so overrated.
In my jet-lag delirium, I was herded along with other volunteers to the Ministry of Education and Science, where we found ourselves in a small press room full of media personnel who were still eager to film us, even though there had been three groups already previously. Afterwards, I was driven to a lab for various blood tests to make sure that Georgia hasn't just let in a diseased junkie. If I remember correctly, I'm pretty certain that the building bore a sign "Maternity Lab/Fertility Center." I think I'm fetus-free.
The training itself took place just outside of Kutaisi, the second biggest city in Georgia 3 hours away from Tbilisi, at a sterile-looking government training facility. A few days before our departures, we were informed that most of us will be placed in Kutaisi, which, according to the Greek Mythology, was the last destination of Jason and the Argonauts. Being a huge Greek/Roman Mythology enthusiast (read:nerd), I was ready to let my not-so-secret inner nerd come out and frolic. Once we arrived in Kutaisi, however, we were told that most of us will be heading back to Tbilisi for our placement after the training.
Apparently the previous group had wreaked havoc on the program's reputation so we were under a lockdown, save for brief outings to the nearby bar and market. The training schedule was quite gruelling; we had an intensive Georgian language crash course(useful), cultural learning class(useless), and methodology class(utterly useless). In my futile effort to work off excessive energy and remain (relatively) sane, I ran across the hallways and went for a walk in the evenings. By the end of the week, I was used to the schedule. Funny how easily human beings can be conditioned.
One major drama occurred one night during the training due to a change in contract clause. I had taken some Benadryl, which consequently knocked me out for good, so I missed the post-dinner meeting where, apparently, all hell broke lose. The pandemonium was caused, well, basically by the false advertisement: the free housing isn't really free-the host families are not contractually obligated to feed us and we would be expected to make a financial contribution. I should mention that the host families are not getting any financial assistance for hosting volunteers. The administrators assured that the host family will probably feed us and will be hospitable, but the volunteers are expected to give them 100 laris a month. I don't think some volunteers(myself included) were necessarily upset at that one clause specifically, as oppose to the fact that many things have been changing since we had arrived: the actual contracts (one in Georgian-call me selfish, but I'd like to keep my kidneys intact, thank you very much), placement location, on top of the fact that we were under a lockdown-what else was going to change? The following few days, the administration became more flexible, granting us more free time, probably in order to compensate for the chaotic night. In the end, everyone was too exhausted and reluctant to bring up the issue again so we didn't really reach any solution.
Some volunteers from previous groups came to share their experience so far; I figured it would be quite inutile since they had been here for only two weeks by that point, still enjoying the welcoming-phase. Surprisingly, some of them had been already told to pay up by their host families, only a week in their stay. It was the exact situation that had concerned me; in Chile, some host families(who were being paid by the government for hosting volunteers) asked the volunteers for money because they assumed that he/she must be loaded in order to volunteer in a developing country. Well, guess what, after 2 months here, I can confirm that it is the same situation with my host family-they were expecting me, an American, to bestow them with money.
I think the concept of volunteering is foreign in many developing countries and people don't realize that you don't have to be wealthy to want to help others. Speaking on the phone with my mum, she confirmed that most people volunteer when they have money. I'm a victim of the typical American Saviour Syndrome(not an intentional acronym), what can I say.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment