nagila

nagila

nagila is a woman who has come into my life by fate, i truly believe. she's forty-six and looks like twenty-six. there is nothing 'old' about this woman, except her wisdom. in so many ways, we are kindred spirits. she demanded that nino let me stay with her and her husband, don, upon my arrival. i was only to stay a few days, but it's now been almost six days. i am so thankful she forced the decision.

her name is Arabic, and it means 'one who emanates love' . her name absolutely suits her. she is brazilian, with no Arabic roots. she's one of the most beautiful women i've ever met, from the inside out. in just a few days, she has mentored me about my time here, and about life. things that a young woman needs to know. our spirits are so similar, and yet in many ways we differ. we dream vividly, yet we are realistic and grounded. we sense things and are open to life as it comes. we view and feel life in a very real, yet different way from those around us.

she's taken care of me. she's my Brazilian momma. yet, she's also a sister, and even more, a friend. i adore this woman and her strength. when i'm trying to convince myself to do something, i ask myself, 'what would nagila do?' and the answer is 'she would go for it'. she's a nomad, a wanderer. but that is not what defines her. she has been to and lived in many places throughout the world, but she is nagila wherever she goes.

she's slender and feminine, and her smile is light itself. she is graceful, yet strong. she is deceivingly quiet, but when she speaks, she has something valuable to say. her laughter is from deep within, and it is contagious. she needs a song for every moment in her life. she reminds herself everyday that we only have today. and every day, nagila creates beauty.

guram

guram

guram met me with nino at the airport. he packed himself down with all my bags and was all smiles. he couldn't be more than 21. in fact, that's exactly how old he is. during the ride from the airport, he kept looking back at me, curiously, always smiling. i didn't know quite who he was.

once we were in Tbilisi, nino mumbled something to me, and i said 'yes!' enthusiastically, not knowing what she really said. we came to what looked like an alley, and guram opened the gate. where are we? Mkurnali. (this is the organization that works with street children) guram spoke with the children, introducing me. jzhana and another boy were there, sleeping outside on cots because it was cooler. we then left, without guram. that's when i realized he was one of the street kids. i was a bit confused because he seemed nicely dressed, clean, etc.

after i slept at nagila's for 8 hours, i went again with nino. she took me back to Mkurnali. it was then that i discovered that guram speaks french. he was able to translate from georgian to french for me. he speaks some english, but prefers french. in fact, he somehow managed to study in france for six months last year.

the more time i spend with this kid, the more i adore him. he's full of life, always joking, and he's certainly the leader of the pack. he's positive and responsible. in a way, he's also always taking care of nino. 'guram!' 'guram!' she's always yelling his name if she needs something. 'go get coffee' 'fix the computer' 'put this shawl on my shoulders.' i suppose in a way, he's been a great comfort to her, because her husband passed away eight months ago.

when we went to meet the kids on the street, he was constantly watching me, making sure none of the kids were making me uncomfortable. he would also translate for me in french, which made me feel far less on the outside. i asked him if he huffed glue, like the others, and he said that he had quit, which was such a relief to me.

there's something about guram that has captured me. i suppose that there's something about guram that captures everyone who meets him. i can sense that he has a very serious side, and that he is always thinking. but he seems to take life very lightly. the other day, he shared with me his tragic love story of yulia. he's in love with yulia, and has been for quite some time. she recently, however, became a prostitute and is nowhere to be found.

guram's older brother is in prison now. i forgot the term of the sentence, but it is several years. his mother is nowhere around, and i suppose his father is likely an alcoholic, much like most of the other georgian men. guram will be one of the hardest to leave behind.

belly dancing

belly dancing

all the expats here are learning to belly dance. now, i've joined the club. i thought it would be great fun; don't get me wrong, it is. it's more than just shaking what the good lord gave you, that's for sure. i had no idea how much of a workout it would be. my abs and my back remember the years of gymnastics. of course, gymnastics was far worse than this pain, but it's similar. it now hurts to eat, laugh, speak, move.

the feminine movements of belly dancing are unlike any i've ever seen. the contortions are amazing. i don't have the most feminine figure, and therefore it is not ideal for belly dancing. my instructor, however, thinks i have potential because of my flexibility and the curvature of the arch in my back. i have hips, and i have an ass, so at least i'm halfway there. i have to use what i have and make the most of it, i suppose.

our instructor, lana, is amazing. she's georgian, speaks russian, georgian, english, and god knows what else. her belly moves in ways you cannot imagine. she can make her body move in one smooth movement, as a wave in the sea. her bright red lips are the perfect match for her bold charisma. she teaches in a way that anyone can understand exactly how to move each part of her body.

the most awkward part of me is fingertip to fingertip. looking in the mirror, my shoulders look far too broad for my small build, and my arms look like long, skinny snakes. i feel somewhat like a hindu goddess. but if i focus on my stomach and my lower half, i'm going to be fine. i just need to figure out how to control these anacondas so that they appear more feminine.

women have belly muscles that men don't, on the inside, so that we can bear children. when you begin to try to move your muscles inside, that is what causes the immense pain the next day. you support yourself on your back, because belly dancing is done leaning backwards a bit.

the classes are two hours. forty five minutes is just stretching, and waiting for the pain to begin. the rest of the time, we learn steps, moves, contortions with our cute little jingly skirts on. the class ends with two dances, stretching, and a 'massage'. the massage is actually the moment where lana gets great pleasure from stretching us in directions we don't normally (and maybe shouldn't) stretch. i stopped when she asked if she could crack my neck from side to side. even i have my limits.