So here I am ın İzmir, Turkey's 3rd cıty, full up on Turkish coffee and wondering how I got here....
Things have been somewhat of a dreamy craziness since the unrest in Georgia began, and I can only now really reflect on everythıng that went down over there.
Firstly, the pre-invasion family vacation: a spectacular fast-paced jaunt across the Georgian countryside, meeting the most generous people I have ever known, skipping from town to town as if the Russians were on our heels, all the whıle trying not to kıll each other. After coming from Panama, the millenia of history in the place is staggering. However, by far the best were the people we encountered.
Their hospitality was amazing even by Panamanian standards - there were full out massive dinners in every home we visited, where no wine glass can every be less than full with the host's homemade vino. We toasted friendship, peace, loved ones, dead ones, and ones-to-come. We drank rams horns of moonshine while standing on our chairs. We received gifts from people we had never met, mostly from people struggling to make a living in a devastated economy. It was a beautiful look into how generous people can be, and what a strong bond my parents have forged with their friends, host families, and communities in the year they have been there.
Then came the Russians... I was recalled from my visit to Oni, where another Peace Corps volunteer lives, to the consolidation point in the South of the country. The town of Oni was bombed 8 hours later... as was Gori and Zugdidi, my parents training community and site. The situation was exciting, being on the ground for something so dramatic. But as soon as those details of places we knew under assault, people's homes we had visited and families we knew, it became so much more real and terrifying.
My parents were evacuated to Armenia, where they are currently staying at a ritzy hotel outside of Yerevan with all the other Georgia volunteers(my Dad says that he's pushing for the Peace Corps to relocate him there to help as a cabana boy). They have heard that it is almost certain that they will be evacuated back to America over the course of the next 2 weeks, though supposedly there is some chance that they may come back. They are devastated, having to leave their families and communities with almost no goodbyes. Most their possessions were heaped into the center of their room, so that Peace Corps can come back and get them at some point.
Meanwhile, Victoria and I have been living it up on our imromptu time in Turkey - Land of flying carpets, doner kebaps, and really, really old buildings. It has been a magical trip so far, as we have seen parts of Istanbul which blew us away, and are currently swinging down the Mediterranean coast where we will eat like kings and do some hiking. The bazaars are like tye dyed dreams of colors, the people are funky kidders but friendly as can be, and the sights fantastic. We'll be here for another two weeks, at which point our magic carpet rental is up and we fly toward our beloved Panamanian isthmus.
thats all for now, we are off to see the ruins of Ephesus, where the locals say there's a killer toga party tonight.... wooohoooooo! Keep in touch.
Their hospitality was amazing even by Panamanian standards - there were full out massive dinners in every home we visited, where no wine glass can every be less than full with the host's homemade vino. We toasted friendship, peace, loved ones, dead ones, and ones-to-come. We drank rams horns of moonshine while standing on our chairs. We received gifts from people we had never met, mostly from people struggling to make a living in a devastated economy. It was a beautiful look into how generous people can be, and what a strong bond my parents have forged with their friends, host families, and communities in the year they have been there. 
