Yet Another Host Family

The return to Georgia has suffered because the living situation has been, at best, tenuous. Friday I moved to my 3^rd host family in just over a month. I do not intend on moving again until I return to the United States in either May or June.

The second family, well, it wasn’t working. There was a myriad of reasons, but largely they were not honoring their commitments as a host family. However, they still expected all the benefits of being a host family, such as money and free English lessons. It was hard to give them either when I would go 10 days at a time without being provided meals. I once tried to get a glass of water, and even that was not well received. When Georgians hear how this family treated me, they are ashamed and embarrassed, as hospitality in Georgia is highly regarded. This family did not have a usual Georgian last name. They may not even have been Georgian to begin with.

But I will not dwell on the past. I now live with an absolutely amazing host family, one that I chose. A few days after moving to host family #2, it became very apparent that things would not work there. At that time I was approached by a close friend in Batumi about moving to his parents’ home. It took a long time before I felt comfortable with the idea. I didn’t want it to impact our relationship. As things steadily worsened, the more a move to the Diasamidze house felt right. Moreover, considering how much I hated life and Georgia there, it became the only viable option. The entire family has welcomed me with open arms. I now have 2 older brothers, who look out for their younger sister, and parents who make sure I am eating. This morning as I was leaving for school, Tamazi, the host dad, asked if I ate. I said I did, which resulted in the reply, “Kai gogo.” (Good girl). I also have a wonderful host sister-in-law, and an absolutely adorable host niece, who is 7 months old. She cries less than the 7 and 10 year old boys in the previous host family. Much less.

And the host family has a washing machine! (The next blog post will talk about the washing contraption at host family #2’s house). When I first saw it, I touched it in literal disbelief about what I was seeing. Unless you have gone without a washing machine it is hard to articulate how having one is such a blessing. At least in America there are Laundromats. Here nothing like that exists.