Cheesecake: A Taste of America in Georgia

I got fancy…one time…with cherries.

One day I wanted cheesecake.

Actually, maybe I should revise that statement.

Every day I want cheesecake. Yeah, that’s more accurate.

I ran into a wall, though, when I didn’t have a working oven, measuring cups, fancy ingredients, or cooking utensils. After an hour of searching, I found a recipe for a no-bake cheesecake that seemed too good to be true. While I still had to adapt it to my current living situation and had very little hope of success, I began.

* If you don’t want to hear my rambling commentary on the aforementioned dessert, just skip to the end. That’s where the recipe is, along with pictures of Georgian cream cheese.

Super Baby biscuits…see what I mean? Baby biscues.

The graham-cracker crust, my favorite part. My first setback: I don’t have graham crackers. Instead, I found soft biscuits made for babies that are not as crunchy as graham crackers but still work well. I crumbled them together and added sugar and melted butter.

While most Georgians know nothing of cream cheese, in a few select stores, I can find 200g containers of cream cheese. Unfortunately, they’re expensive; it’s worth it. Converting into grams, I needed 226g of cream cheese, so I round that up to 1 1/4 containers. Second setback: I did not have a mixer (I have since invested in a mixer), so I used my fancy spoon (aka…the first one I grabbed from the drawer) and combined the cream cheese and sugar.

Third setback: I don’t have heavy cream that isn’t outrageously expensive. I googled a substitute and melted butter with milk and….voila! heavy cream. I folded that in (again, with the help of my best spoon), and poured it into the crust.

A few hours later, I checked it. And wouldn’t you know….it was good.

Really good.

Too good.

And then it was gone.

I apologize to whomever this recipe originally belonged to as I no longer know where I got it. I tried to find it to no avail and do not claim any genius for this cheesecake.

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American version (in black) and Georgian version and my revisions (in blue)

1 1/2 c graham crackers                1 3/4 c crushed biscuits, the cheap kind
3 T butter                                      45 g butter, melted
3 T sugar                                       3 big soup spoons of sugar

8 oz cream cheese                        225 – 250 g cream cheese
1/3 c sugar                                    1/3 wine cup (70g) sugar
2 T lemon juice                              I skip the lemon juice because I’m lazy
1/2 c heavy whipping cream            1/2 wine cup whipping cream: 20% or 35% 
* I usually use 1/4 c or 1/3 c of cream because it makes it too runny.
* Heavy whipping cream substitute: 3/4 c milk + 1/3 c or 75 g melted butter

Mix the crushed graham crackers with the melted butter and 3T of sugar. Press it into a pie pan. Beat the cream cheese, 1/3 c sugar, and lemon juice (optional). Whip the cream and fold into the cream cheese mix. Spread into the pan. Eat…a lot.

Cream cheese in Georgia, found near the milk and cheese spreads

Common brand of cream cheese, just make sure there are no little green pieces of herbs in it. If it looks like this, it will be void of green pieces.

98.6: A Fever

Yesterday, I was sick; I had a chill-inducing fever, a lingering cough, an undiagnosed sinus infection, three forms of medication, a doctor-approved – aka, my Georgian doctor/mom – sick day from school, and a headache that made it seem like my head would be better off exploding.

Today, while not sick enough to merit another day off school, I still feel the lingering effects of my cold, or as I nicknamed it, “my 3-packs-a-day habit.” (Don’t worry, mom; I’m talking about Kleenexes, or in Georgia, Selpaki.) Having a clear enough head to think today, I began to think about how it feels to be sick in another country. After considering it for a good five minutes, I’ve decided…I don’t like it. And here’s why.

•   There’s no one to bring me soup. I mean, I have soup every day for lunch, but when I’m sick, I just want some chicken noodle – from a can – soup drowning in crackers.

•   No one believes I’m sick until I sneeze more than twice in a day, cough for a significant period of time, or have a fever, which means that if I don’t have any of those
symptoms, I’m fully expected to complete the regular daily activities of teaching classes, playing with children, dancing at dance lesson, and staying up to watch a
two-hour dance show that doesn’t start until 10.

•   Sickness doesn’t have the same origins in Georgia as it does in America. In America, if I’m sick, it’s probably because someone else was sick, and they didn’t wash their
hands or because the weather is switching rapidly and my body can’t keep up. In Georgia, however, it’s probably because I wore a short-sleeved shirt outside two weeks
ago or my feet were cold or my room isn’t warm enough. And this is coming from my host mom, who’s a doctor.

•   Selpaki – aka Kleenexes – aren’t soft.

•   Medicine isn’t the same. Having a doctor as my Georgian mom has its advantages; I said I was sick, and she grabbed a piece of scrap paper and wrote a prescription for me.
However, upon going to the pharmacy, I realized that I have no idea what I’ve been given. Therefore, I have no idea what I can and cannot take with it.

•   In America, when I’m up all night due to incessant coughing, I sleep in the recliner chair to sit upright and still be comfortable or eat ice chips. In Georgia, I fluff my
pillows up as much as possible and chew a couple cough drops.

•   The remedy for sickness changes with the border. For example, today I was told that I should definitely wear a coat if I want to get better, which may or may not have
merit. The problem was that it was approximately 20˚C (70˚F) today on my way to school, so it was all I could do to wear a thin sweater and scarf, let alone a coat. In
America, I just need to sleep and drink lots of fluids.

•   98.6 isn’t a consistent body temperature. My host sister insisted on me taking my temperature the last time I was sick. I was sure I didn’t have a fever; it was just a
headache, intensified by her screaming as my Georgian dad tickled her. I took my temperature and read it, “37˚C.” After doing a quick conversion on my phone, I assured
her it was fine: 98.6. However, she refused to drop it until I let her see the reading, at which point she declared I had a fever. I explained many times that 37˚ is NOT a
fever; it’s normal. After failing to convince her, and my doctor/host mom who had walked in, I said, “37˚ is normal in America.” My host mom thought for a moment and
responded, “Here…it is not.” Since when did body temperatures vary by country?

Georgian Internet Cafes: Emails amidst Counterstrike and poker

In preparing to come to Georgia, I had the illusion I would Skype with friends and family once a week, I could look up lesson plan ideas whenever necessary, and I could keep in touch with the outside world via Facebook and news websites. When I think back on those times, I just laugh.
My family does not have internet, but my school has a computer lab, which I thought I could use occasionally. After a month I realized the school’s internet would not be a viable option as it isn’t open most of the day, and I didn’t want to send emails amidst a class of my students. I had gone to an internet café in Gurjaani – a 15 minute taxi ride – but it wasn’t my favorite option. I eventually went into the Geocell office and asked them about their internet modem. My first clue it wouldn’t work should’ve been when they gave me the modem (taking only my phone number as identification) to try and bring back in a few days if it didn’t work.

I walked around the house with my computer, the connected modem, and my Georgian parents waiting for the little light to turn green. I quickly discovered the only place in the house where it would work was outside, in front of the house, sitting on the big pipes in the yard. Although this wasn’t a problem at the time, I knew I would never send emails in the winter if I had to go outside to do so. I took the modem back the next day.
My family has tried the various available modems, and Beeline is the only one that seems to work, although it has to be strung outside on the balcony, and for decent service should be used between the hours of 2am – 8am. Instead, I have contented myself with making a weekly, and sometimes bi-weekly, trip to the internet café.

In my six months of going to the internet café, I have learned a lot, and I feel others may benefit from this knowledge. Therefore, I have compiled a list of suggestions for those of you who do, or will have to, use an internet café while in Georgia.

1. Learn which computers are the best. Some are in Russian, some do not have working USB ports, some only have Word 2003, some keyboards are stiff and perhaps slightly frozen in the winter. For example, I know that #4 has a good keyboard, keeps websites in English, has a good USB port, and allows me to download my Word 2007 documents.

2. Know when children get out of school. Get there early to stake your claim on the good computers. After 2:30, the internet café is flooded with 6th grade boys playing games on the internet, and it’s impossible to get a computer without having the man in charge kick one of the poker-playing kids off. In fact, as I post this, I am surrounded by four boys under the age of 12 and three men over the age of 25. The three computers next to me are occupied by Counter Strike, a game which occasionally starts up while I am sending emails. On the other side, a man is playing poker online. The child next to me continues to look around the divider to see what I’m doing; I think he’s bored with the amount of English on the screen. I should get on Facebook so that he has something more interesting to browse.

3. Write all your emails prior to your regular internet usage. This limits the amount of time you have to spend, and it also gives you an opportunity to write better emails. I write my family a weekly update and then attach it to their email. Because I’ve written it over the course of a week, I don’t forget to include anything.

4. Save your attachments in a general Word format – Word 97-2003 – because some of the computers may not have a later version, which means you won’t be able to send anything and your family gets worried because they haven’t heard from you in a week and won’t hear anything for another week.

5. Check the timer to know how much you owe. This is especially important at first because you may not know numbers in Georgian, and it will help if you have some idea before going up to pay. Usually, it’s about 1 lari per hour.

6. Make a list of things you want to do on the internet: send emails, look up an idea for teaching the alphabet, find a picture of a teacup pig for your family because they can’t comprehend the concept of a pig you don’t eat (that was on my list this week), check the news, go through all the TLG emails you get in a week, and download 200 Sudoku puzzles to keep you busy through the winter.

In all reality, I have discovered I can get by without daily internet access; I don’t always like it, but I can survive. Granted, when I was on holiday vacation and had WiFi, I was delighted and took full advantage of the opportunity, and when I go to Tbilisi and have internet access at my hostel, I Skype with everyone and download articles to keep me occupied in the village. I’m under no illusion this change in internet dependency will last more than three days when I get back to the States, but, for now, I’ll live with Wednesday and Sunday afternoons.

New Uses for Old Things

In the past seven months, I have been confused by many occurrences. Interestingly enough, cultural differences are typically not the main culprit. Sure, I’ve had my share of surprises in terms of what I’m eating, where I’m going, and how I’m getting there, but overall, I’ve kept up. It’s in the comfort of my own home, where I feel the most relaxed and “off guard” that I’m taken aback most often, which has triggered the not-always-silent question, “You do what with that?” Perhaps you’ve encountered a few of these surprises yourself.

Cotton, bought in small bags like stuffing, can be rolled around matches to create Q-tips; it’s how the family cleans their ears.

A propane tank lit with a burning piece of paper taken from the pechi is an acceptable way to start a burner.

Cupboards are not only for storing plates, cups, and utensils; they also store the dinner leftovers, cheese, and extra fruit.

The refrigerator, which is unplugged during the winter, stores the pots and pans as well as small appliances.

The refrigerator can be unplugged during the winter because it’s so cold outside that the windowsill does a perfectly good job of keeping things cool.

An old door handle can be jimmy-rigged into a razor, which also happens to entertain 12-year-old girls as their uncles show it off by cutting their arm hair.

Bundled bird feathers are the best way to sweep out the cracks in the floor and the corners near the wall.

The string used to hold nuts for churchqkhela can also be used as floss.

Tiny scissors are not for cutting paper or thread; they’re for clipping fingernails.

Filling water bottles with hot water and setting them in between the blankets before bed is a legitimate way to keep warm at night in the winter.

Making a Difference

If you are a teacher for any amount of time in Georgia, you will quickly become aware that various levels of English exist within one classroom of students. In a class of 28, I have 8 students who do not know the alphabet, 12 who are indifferent, 5 who know how to yell “Hello!” when I walk into class, and 3 who have studied the day’s lesson. (Those numbers may not be exactly accurate.) Typically, these 8 students are also the ones who disrupt the rest of the class as they have no hope of understanding; without knowing the alphabet, they can only get so far.

After a particularly frustrating day in 4^th grade last week during which my co-teacher told a particularly disruptive student to work on other homework in class since he could not read English, I confronted her with a proposition. Instead of trying to continue…

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Making a Difference

I’ve always thought I could be a great dancer. Given the chance, by this time I could be touring foreign lands to reveal my amazing dance skills. However, I was not given the chance. I’ve never been to a dance class, and the only practice I’ve had is when I prance around the house in my leggings. If only I’d come to Georgia sooner…

I’ve been taking dance lessons for three weeks now. Let me be clear: these aren’t salsa, tap, or country dance lessons. No, these are Georgian – stand-on-your-tiptoes, spin-at-insanely-fast-rates, keep-your hands-free, learn-in-another-language –lessons. Our dance lessons started out at two days a week at the school in the next village with Gio mas (my dance teacher). It was going to be me, my (American) friend, and two Georgian high school students. Somewhere along the road we added a third lesson and another student. Oh, and my name…

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Making a Difference

For many TLG teachers, life in one of Georgia’s thousands of villages has become part of the experience. No longer do cows blocking traffic, chickens becoming dinner, horses pulling logs, water disappearing, and families living in the pechi room bother us; it’s part of the routine. Throughout the winter, however, I have encountered a part of village life I was not anticipating – endless amounts of free time.

When it is too cold to go outside, and the only thing to do in my village is play backgammon with the men on the streets, I can either become insanely good at backgammon or go crazy with boredom. Since I’m a woman, backgammon-playing with the men is out of the question, so I am discovering new ways to keep myself busy. For Christmas, my mom sent me a package (USA2Georgia is my best friend) that included an embroidered blanket kit. I…

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