By Laura

The sun falls
Like a drop of blood
From some hero.
We,
Who love pain,
Delight in this.
-William Blake

So I just want to record yesterday because it was an unbelievably emotionally draining day and I know I will forget about it if I don't write it down. So the day before I leave I have a few shots of cognac at the Jinjikhashvilis with their Russian guest. It was on an empty stomach, so it him me pretty hard and I was up late fixing Lika and Nadia's hair. Then I played violin rather poorly for everyone. Then I went to bed until I awoke with unbelievable intestinal pain. I almost passed out on my way back from the bathroom. I was in immense pain to rival that from Vienna...I was covered in sweat and had the tingly feeling in my hands. I was completely exhausted and passed out in my bed. I awoke at 6am, finished packing (to move to my village in western Geo) and rushed to try to make myself look nice for the swear in (to become official volunteer). Of course the Jinjikhashvilis were super slow and we were just standing around. We then had the long Marshukta ride, which was fun but tiring and long. We arrived and stood around awkwardly for a long time. I needed to use the restroom, badly. The doors were locked for a while and I had to get rid of my host family, which was difficult. Finally we got in and walked around. I found the bathroom, still having painful intestinal difficulties in my one cute outfit. I went into the pit toilet and squatted the wrong way, so I missed. There wasn't any toilet paper and I was trying to keep my clothes clean and wrinkle free. It was one of those fancy pit toilets that have the flusher. I tried flushing it but the pipe burst and toilet water went all over my shoes. So much for my cute outfit. Of course I yelled in surprise and the cleaning lady walked in right then and yelled at me. No way to hide...I was the idiot who squatted the wrong way and exploded toilet water all over her bathroom....what was that about improving stereotypes of Americans? Ok so I tried unsuccessfully to avoid that particular cleaning lady for the rest of the day. But she is around every corner, watching out for that stupid blonde. Upstairs is mass chaos. It is 100 degrees on stage. Nothing is organized and they just have us planted on folding chairs on stage while mayhem ensues with the staff. I am trying to play it cool in hopes I can escape at 10:15 to see Prof. Kohl (who randomly happened to be in Georgia). I don't see Mary anywhere, she's the one I thought I could get permission from. Antsy, I just wanted to leave. I keep looking at my watch. I feel crappy and still have stomach pains. I finally walk out, worrying about running into Giorgi. I find P. Kohl and have a nice time with him but also spend the whole time worrying about being late for the ceremony. He notices and I leave a bit early. I try desperately to push away any thoughts of Welleseley. I return to chaos. No one having even noticed my absence. Finally the ceremony starts. I have to pay attention and look good. I am on TV after all. I kept laughing though, because I was stressed. My poetry reciting went fine. After the ceremony I have awkward interaction with my host mom and have a hard time investigating my host family's personality, because of all the people, the old host family, friends PC staff, the older volunteers. I am sweating buckets and still feel like I am going to pass out. I try to get some snacks and water But I'm stressed and worried about my intestines. I don't want to eat anything before our long car ride. There are so many people everywhere. I introduce my host mom to Brian, Aaron and Shane and it doesn't go over well. She barely says hi. I try to explain we can't leave yet but I can tell they are impatient. PC won't let us leave yet. Finally my director and host mom leave to wait in the car. We wait and wait and wait and wait. I have no clue what I am going to do with my luggage. The peace corps bureaucratic mess lasts several more hours. I finally get my papers signed. We all cram into a lada (three adults in the back, three in the front). We wait around in the bazaar in the capital while my host mom does an errand. We then being the seven hour ride to my village, where we almost have a head on collision with a semi truck and I awkwardly have to make conversation in my halting Georgian until we get to the really crappy part of the road, where we have to bear down and as we blaze a trail at 5mph in a shockless vehicle on a road that hasn't been fixed in 45 years. At least there's silence.

K constantly felt he was lost or had wandered farther into foreign lands than any human being before him, so foreign that even the air hadn't a single component of the air in his homeland and where one would inevitably suffocate from the foreignness but where the meaningless enticements were such that one had no alternative but to go on and get even more lost.
- Franz Kafka