Browsing Archives of Author »Lauren Michels«

The Real World

August 24, 2012


The road to Tusheti was not completed until the late 1970s. The old horse road is still in use. There was an attempt by the Soviet regime to string power lines  and poles alongside this road. Both the road and the rusty power poles still exist. The road is shaped like a snake because man made […]

To One Another

June 16, 2012


I attended the TLG two-year anniversary ceremony on Friday, June 8. Prime Minister Gilauri and Minister Shashkin shared words of encouragement and gratitude. TLG volunteers from each region told how they’ve made differences in their schools and communities, and likewise how their schools and communities have made a difference to them. Because I’m nearing the […]

Of Hordes, Fords, and Borders

June 14, 2012


We had a few days off of school for Easter. I took that time to travel, but I didn’t go too far. My Easter vacation was spent in a space between Europe and Asia, between the Muslim and Christian world, between modern and ancient. It is a place where Turkish çay is sipped in the […]

On Sunflower Seeds

May 10, 2012


Rustavi, Georgia. It’s a windy city. The wind blows often and it blows hard. The wind brings with it earaches, dust, and a strong desire to stay indoors. This wind has many voices. When I’m inside, it’s a high-pitch howling as it tries to bypass the windows. It’s the flap and snap of half-dry laundry. […]

An Unlikely Companion

March 27, 2012


It wasn’t until 2007 that my otherwise ultra-hip mother subscribed to an e-mail account—and finally learned to use a computer. For years, she crusaded against a digital mailbox with arguments like: “I like to just call people!” and “What’s wrong with regular mail?” It took the patience and savvy of her three young adult children […]

On the Road

March 14, 2012


It was a Sunday. I was the passenger of a Tbilisi-bound marshrutka winding our way out of the mountains near Borjomi. I was shoulder-to-shoulder with a white-bearded priest and a dozing gentleman, jostling with the whims of the road. Bucolic scenery splashed across the windows. It was all quite normal. With nothing to do for […]