It's Wednesday. We arrive at our rather spacious 3-bedroom, 2-bath apartment in the early a.m. and crash until lunchtime. All we want are hot showers, hot coffee, and time to take in the interior decorating of our new pad (visualize what feuding oligarchs with faux Louis XIV furniture and elk horns would come up with). But wait. What's that gassy smell on the porch? Why's the water cold?
A quick call to the director brings us a Georgian posse to fix our gas leak/lack of hot water and wire us and our apartment. These guys could do two things really well: sit and phone for help. No DSL modem? Gotta call someone and wait for them to bring it. Need a part? Same deal. Can fix the leak? Call the subcontractor! Meanwhile four Georgian guys are sitting around our apartment all afternoon waiting. They text for a while. They tousle Asa's hair. They laugh when he throws Lamby in their laps. They wait some more.
Okay, I'm not being totally fair. There was Givi, the young, blond IT guy from our school. He brought a tool box and managed to set us up with phones and wireless in only two visits to the apartment. It's only taken Kakha, the jovial and burly head of school security, three visits (we hope) to change our locks. And the hired gun, a white-haired man with a pipecutter, had skills: how best to test for that gas leak on the porch? Light your cigarette and see if the match turns into a torch.
And then there's Giorgi. After four days of repairmen, Giorgi and his plaid flannel shirts are the ones who have stuck with us. He's a sort of middleman repairman for expats. That means he speaks a little English, comes and tries to fix things, but doesn't carry any tools. He carries out all of his repairs with our Leatherman. If he can't figure it out, in comes the subcontractor. Giorgi's been here so often that Eli's started showing him the family pictures.
Mostly they've ignored me unless some Russian translation is called for in which case I pop my head in the room to provide the word for paint (kraska) or leak (tech') or gas (gaz). It's nice to be female.
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It may not be funny when you are in the midst of the situation, but I laughed out loud at your descriptions and especially when I got to the part about making repairs with your Leatherman. As the daughter and sister of men who can fix almost anything, I have a hard time understanding why so called repairmen appear without tools, but I do know that things are not done it other places the way we in the U.S. expect. Kara, it sounds as if you are handling the circumstances with humor. I hope the sleep patterns are improving. Love & hugs, Mom
ReplyDeleteIt may not be funny when you are in the midst of the situation, but I laughed out loud at your descriptions and especially when I got to the part about making repairs with your Leatherman. As the daughter and sister of men who can fix almost anything, I have a hard time understanding why so called repairmen appear without tools, although I do know that things are not done in other places the way they are in the U.S. Kara, it sounds as if you are handling the circumstances with humor. I hope the sleep patterns are improving. Love & hugs, Mom
ReplyDeleteIt's nice to be female Kara with essential language skills and blog flair.
ReplyDeleteFirst impressions are telling. You would really like to take a nice hot shower and settle in after a long journey. I'm impressed with how many people there are (trying) to look after you. Hugs to all, David