Beggars Banquet

I’m nearing my tenth month in Georgia this week and my thoughts are towards the future and what it may hold. I can be a very spur of the moment person at times. For example, my application to come to Georgia was on the very day that I discovered I had no future in the UK work-wise. Other times I like to plan ahead methodically without leaving anything to chance.  I’m not sure this will be the case as the time ticks on towards decision time 2012. 

As it stands I see no future for myself here in Kutaisi or Georgia as it happens.  When I lived in a mountain village with nothing to do expect read or spend hours online, I saved a fair amount of cash from my salary here. In Georgian terms I earn way above average for a school teacher and I could live quite easily on what I do earn if I was to rent my own place. In UK terms I earn less than most benefit claimants get in a week, at least that’s what the Daily Mail tells me anyway. Some of my colleagues here earn another wage by teaching privately or by having a second job. I’ve put the feelers out for both but nothing was forthcoming. 

Heading back to the UK with little or no money one year on from when I left would be an abject failure by anybody’s standards. By my own self-critical standards it would be a bloody disaster and is not something I can contemplate. Unless things change here in Georgia and I get swamped with job offers then I can rule out staying here also. By the process of elimination I now have to look away from both the country of my birth and my current country of residence to earn a living. 

Elsewhere, the weather has in the last few days turned into summer all of a sudden. I now find my early evenings consisting of sitting on the balcony and either listing to The Stones or reading on my kindle. Quite a change when three weeks ago there was two feet of snow on the ground and I was beginning to think winter would never end.  I can now assume that in the Caucuses there are two seasons, summer and winter and they rotate accordingly.   

On Sunday I was returning from Mass (there is a Catholic Church here) when I was approached by a young gypsy girl who was begging. There are many gypsies in Georgia who try and make a living begging so this was nothing new at all. Having just left a Palm Sunday service I thought it would be hypocritical not to give the little girl a few Tetri from my pocket.  I dipped my hand in my coat pocket and dropped what I thought was a 20 Tetri coin into her little metal dish. As it turned out it was a two Lari coin and the girl was overcome with delight and began shouting ‘Madloba Madloba ‘ (thank you to you and me) in a high pitched voice. 

What followed then was that the little girls elder brother seen what had happened and the amount I accidentally gave his sister and his eyes lit up. He pursued me over the bridge and begged me for money for the best part of half a mile. I told him that I had no more money but he carried on his routine until a policeman got out of a nearby car and told him to clear off. 

So, on Monday I was passing the same spot again and who should spot the rich foreign alms-giver? Yep, it was the brother. He’d well and truly blown his chances the day before by manhandling me and trying to dip his hands into my coat pocket so he really had no chance. That said a similar performance ensued but this time I was firmer and he got the message or so I thought. 

Tuesday comes round and I’m walking home but I think ahead this time and go the long way round towards the bridge so we don’t have a repeat performance. However this kid is smart and he works out the time I’m due to pass and the direction I’m coming from so he cuts me off at the junction and it starts all over again. This time he drops to his knees grabbing my legs and wailing like a banshee. People on the street start to turn and look to see what the commotion is and I’m glowing red by the time I shake him off and dash away. 

Wednesday, I’m determined there is to be no repeat of the past three days and I plan a route in my mind that will surly outfox him this time. I leave school at 12:30 and head into the city taking nothing to chance; I wear dark glasses and have my iphone earphones in so as to look oblivious to the world. 

My new route takes in a walk through a park and as I stride purposefully through it I see him in the distance harassing some passers-by. However he must have some inbuilt radar and I see him look in my direction and run towards my side of the park. I turn around to cross the road and dive into the nearest shop which just so happens to be a ladies clothes shop and now I’m really stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

I browse some of the less feminine clothing in the shop while keeping an eye out for the beggar through window. This of course leaves me wide open to ridicule and I hear the shop girls sniggering and whispering from the back of the shop. When everything thing looks safe outside I Eventually mumble something about my mother in England and they nod their heads as if all is clear. At this point I pretend I’ve a phone call and make my excuses and leave.