Well, it is that time of year again. To me, holiday season, in Georgia, begins
with Barbaroba or St. Barbara’s Day, on December 17. It does not feel like it has been all that long
since I last wrote about this special day, but here we are again. Something about having a holiday with my own
mother’s namesake makes it more special.
An interesting element of Georgian holidays is that they are
very often celebrated beginning at midnight, rather than the evening of the day
of the holiday. So, it is 1:30 in the
morning and I have just come from a supra (Georgian fest) and I was the first
to leave. Another fun fact is that any
Georgian family I have ever stayed or lived with has been able to stay up much
later than I, and they wake up earlier!
This was not an all out feast, only my host parents and two neighbors,
even still it was one of those times that while it is happening one knows will
become a special memory. As I sat in
the same place I sat a year ago, understanding significantly more of the
conversation, I did my best to enjoy the time I have left with my second
family. There was banter between my host
father and me, hugs with my host mom, and shared conversation with our guests. My host dad toasted Americans and said ours
is a country with good ladies, which he now knows because of knowing me. There was nothing particularly special or out
of the ordinary about this evening compared to the many other supras at which
we have spent time together, but it was just the kind of memory the Peace Corps
experience is all about. It was another
night of spending time celebrating a holiday from a different culture with
people whom I will always treasure and who have taken me into their home and
family.
