K Needs Language Lessons

Since I’ve been in Gori, I’ve met a few people but I haven’t exactly established a social circle yet. I’m still trying to find my daily rhythm but it’s definitely a work in progress. The most contact I’ve had with anybody over the last few days has been with the son of my landlord (who, as far as I can tell, is your typical football-loving 16-year-old Georgian boy who can speak a bit of English) and a guy I think is his uncle. They replaced my frozen pipes, fixed my leaky showerhead, retrieved the two boxes of granola bars that I unwittingly dropped between my kitchen cabinet and the wall and couldn’t get out, and rigged up a light at my building’s entryway so I don’t trip all over myself stumbling up the stairs at night.

Earlier today, I went for a walk with the intent of scoping out potential running routes once the ice clears from the streets. As I was passing by the football field, the uncle saw me from across the street and waved me over. Here’s how our conversation went:

Me: Gamarjoba

He: Problem?

Me: No. (big smile) Okay. K'urgi!

He: I am football teacher.

Me: (big smile and thumbs up) Okay!

He: Thank you. Good-bye.

Me: Gmadlobt. Bye-bye!

I think he was surprised to see me, and I wonder if he didn’t think I was trying to find him because something else was wrong in my flat. Regardless of our limited ability to communicate, it was nice to see a friendly face out on the street.