Today, I found out that one of my former students in Georgia died. He was walking in Tbilisi when he was hit by a speeding car (and he was on the sidewalk). Giorgi was 19 years old and in his first year at University. Giorgi was in 11th grade when he was in my class. From the very first day, I could tell he had a higher grasp of the English language than any of his peers. He was always engaged, and even when no one else wanted to say a thing, he would raise his hand.
Beyond this, Gio became one of very few friends I had in my village. Just days after being in Vardisubani, he added me on Facebook. He would chat with me all of the time, sometimes to the point where I was a little annoyed that my student wouldn't leave me alone. But he had good intentions. He always offered to help me with anything about their culture or language confused me. When we ran into each other at the cafes in Telavi, he would sometimes act as a translator or warn me about which people he didn't think I should trust.
I think, at that time, Giorgi really needed someone to talk to. He would chat with me for long periods of time about how he felt like he didn't fit in with his classmates. About how they would make fun of him for being "different," liking music like Slipknot, writing poetry and wanting more out of life than living in the village forever. He always told me he wanted to come to America because he thought people would accept him more. I never doubted, and in fact I really thought he would, out of everyone, be the one to succeed. He had a lot of ambition.
One of my favorite memories of Giorgi was a time during class when the textbook had a discussion topic of "are boys or girls better at math?" All of the boys were arguing adamantly that boys were better than girls in all areas of math and science. I think this was the only time I could remember Gio not debating something during class. He just kept quiet white Maxo and Lasha were saying that boys were "more genius" than girls and girls who seem smart had to actually work harder to seem that smart, whereas boys were just naturally smart. It wasn't until I was getting pretty frustrated that Gio spoke up, and trying to be the mediator, said "maybe it doesn't matter who is smarter because technology is advancing so quickly. Maybe someday no one will have to remember anything anymore. We will all have computers to remember everything for us."
One of Gio's friends owned a cafe in Telavi. This cafe had pretty decent pizza (not too much mayonnaise on it), good khatchapuri, and beer of course. Most weekends, my friends who lived around Kakheti would meet up in Telavi. We usually ended up at this cafe, which we called "Disco Cafe." I don't know what it was actually called. Giorgi would usually be there. My very favorite memory of Giorgi, is during one of those times I was at Disco Cafe with all of my friends. A few days before, Gio had been chatting with me on Facebook and we were talking about music (he loved music). He asked me what my favorite band was, so I told him Hanson and sent him one of their music videos and didn't think anything of it. But when we went into Disco Cafe that day, he was there with his guitar, and started playing and singing the Hanson song I had sent him a video for. I was in disbelief. It was hilarious and flattering. Afterward, he put the real Hanson version (which he had downloaded) on the speakers. He put the song on nearly every time we went into the cafe after that. To this day, I still think of him when I hear that song.
On my last day living in the village, Giorgi messaged me and told me he had written me a song. I read through it and immediately knew he couldn't have possibly spelled all of the words correctly. Parts of it sounded a little familiar. What he had "written" me was a song comprised of various lyrics from multiple Three Doors Down song lyrics.
This is the song:
When your education x-ray
Can not see under my skin
I won't tell you a damn thing
That I could not tell my friends
Now roaming through this darkness
I'm alive but I'm alone
Part of me is fighting this
But part of me is gone
I hope you’re doing fine out there without me
‘Cause I’m not doing so good without you
The things I thought you’d never know about me
Were the things I guess you always understood
So how could I have been so blind for all these years?
Guess I only see the truth through all this fear,
And living without you…
If you could step into my head,
tell me would you still know me
If you woke up in my bed,
tell me then would you hold me
Or would you simply let it lie,
leaving me to wonder why
I can't get you out of this head
I call mine
And I will say
* **** *** ****
I wrote all this because I don't know how to deal with something like this. I haven't talked to him in months; I haven't seen him in two years. I miss Georgia every day, and I always wondered who I would see again and who I wouldn't. I always thought he would be someone I would come across again in life. As far as teaching goes, he was one of the few students I felt truly "proud" of. I knew he could do something really great, and honestly: I'm pissed off. I wish there was something I could do. I wish I didn't live so far away. I wish I could give his little sister a hug. I could go hug all my friends and all the people I grew to love so much in the sort time I lived in Georgia.
Beyond this, Gio became one of very few friends I had in my village. Just days after being in Vardisubani, he added me on Facebook. He would chat with me all of the time, sometimes to the point where I was a little annoyed that my student wouldn't leave me alone. But he had good intentions. He always offered to help me with anything about their culture or language confused me. When we ran into each other at the cafes in Telavi, he would sometimes act as a translator or warn me about which people he didn't think I should trust.
I think, at that time, Giorgi really needed someone to talk to. He would chat with me for long periods of time about how he felt like he didn't fit in with his classmates. About how they would make fun of him for being "different," liking music like Slipknot, writing poetry and wanting more out of life than living in the village forever. He always told me he wanted to come to America because he thought people would accept him more. I never doubted, and in fact I really thought he would, out of everyone, be the one to succeed. He had a lot of ambition.
One of my favorite memories of Giorgi was a time during class when the textbook had a discussion topic of "are boys or girls better at math?" All of the boys were arguing adamantly that boys were better than girls in all areas of math and science. I think this was the only time I could remember Gio not debating something during class. He just kept quiet white Maxo and Lasha were saying that boys were "more genius" than girls and girls who seem smart had to actually work harder to seem that smart, whereas boys were just naturally smart. It wasn't until I was getting pretty frustrated that Gio spoke up, and trying to be the mediator, said "maybe it doesn't matter who is smarter because technology is advancing so quickly. Maybe someday no one will have to remember anything anymore. We will all have computers to remember everything for us."
One of Gio's friends owned a cafe in Telavi. This cafe had pretty decent pizza (not too much mayonnaise on it), good khatchapuri, and beer of course. Most weekends, my friends who lived around Kakheti would meet up in Telavi. We usually ended up at this cafe, which we called "Disco Cafe." I don't know what it was actually called. Giorgi would usually be there. My very favorite memory of Giorgi, is during one of those times I was at Disco Cafe with all of my friends. A few days before, Gio had been chatting with me on Facebook and we were talking about music (he loved music). He asked me what my favorite band was, so I told him Hanson and sent him one of their music videos and didn't think anything of it. But when we went into Disco Cafe that day, he was there with his guitar, and started playing and singing the Hanson song I had sent him a video for. I was in disbelief. It was hilarious and flattering. Afterward, he put the real Hanson version (which he had downloaded) on the speakers. He put the song on nearly every time we went into the cafe after that. To this day, I still think of him when I hear that song.
On my last day living in the village, Giorgi messaged me and told me he had written me a song. I read through it and immediately knew he couldn't have possibly spelled all of the words correctly. Parts of it sounded a little familiar. What he had "written" me was a song comprised of various lyrics from multiple Three Doors Down song lyrics.
This is the song:
When your education x-ray
Can not see under my skin
I won't tell you a damn thing
That I could not tell my friends
Now roaming through this darkness
I'm alive but I'm alone
Part of me is fighting this
But part of me is gone
I hope you’re doing fine out there without me
‘Cause I’m not doing so good without you
The things I thought you’d never know about me
Were the things I guess you always understood
So how could I have been so blind for all these years?
Guess I only see the truth through all this fear,
And living without you…
If you could step into my head,
tell me would you still know me
If you woke up in my bed,
tell me then would you hold me
Or would you simply let it lie,
leaving me to wonder why
I can't get you out of this head
I call mine
And I will say
* **** *** ****
I wrote all this because I don't know how to deal with something like this. I haven't talked to him in months; I haven't seen him in two years. I miss Georgia every day, and I always wondered who I would see again and who I wouldn't. I always thought he would be someone I would come across again in life. As far as teaching goes, he was one of the few students I felt truly "proud" of. I knew he could do something really great, and honestly: I'm pissed off. I wish there was something I could do. I wish I didn't live so far away. I wish I could give his little sister a hug. I could go hug all my friends and all the people I grew to love so much in the sort time I lived in Georgia.
