So yesterday while I was exploring town with Emily and Melissa, my host sister Nini thought it would be a good idea to celebrate the start of the school year by drinking an entire bottle of wine. Please note, Nini is a 90 pound fourteen year old. When I later bumped into a very drunk Nini on the street I turned on ‘Big Sister’ mode and attempted to take Nini back home. Nini, drunk and resilient, slurredly told me she was going to her best friend Salome’s house. Salome, who was practically keeping Nini from falling, informed me that she was taking Nini to her house to get killed by her mother. Oh, the Georgian way.
Nini’s drama ensued until this morning. She ran up to me in a panic during school and said that kids were talking about her being drunk at 4 o’clock in the afternoon and wanted advice on what to do. This was an easy one. First off, Nini’s full name is Nino much like half her entire school, so I first told her to say, “No, you must be confusing me with one of the other 200 Ninos”. Secondly, I told her to make a list of all the kids that said something about her and to tell them that if they said anything else I would make sure of it that they fail English. (Oh, the power). Thirdly, I advised Nini not to drink an entire bottle of wine at 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Nini seemed satisfied with these words and happily skipped off to German class.
Changing the subject, here’s an anecdote about food. My family enjoys eating bread and cheese for breakfast every day. I myself am more of a ‘yogurt-and-fruit’ kind of girl so today after school, Melissa and I went exploring in the bazaar for some phortokhali (oranges) and ioyurt’i (yogurt). After getting free tomatoes for being American and spilling half a kilo of sugared peanuts on the ground (totally Melissa’s fault), we left the bazaar mildly successful. (Though we did mistakenly buy zucchini instead of cucumbers which made for a not-so-delicious salad). Anyhow, when my mama saw that I liked yogurt, he proceeded to go to the market and buy an entire jug of peach yogurt. Literally, if I even hint at liking something my family thinks it’s necessary to immediately stock up.
Even earlier in the week, when I walked by a big hotel with my deda I said what I thought was, “didi sast’umro” (big hotel) but in actuality what I said was “didi sazamtro” (big watermelon). (In my defense the words do sound fairly similar). My deda however, took that as a subtle hint that I wanted watermelon. Within twenty minutes a plate of watermelon was placed before me. I’m practically afraid to look at things in the market because I worry my host parents will buy everything I glance upon. Truly, I am being spoiled every single day.