On the morning walk through wicker trees to school today, Temo and I got to talking. “What are you doing after school, Temo?”

“Um, school? After I go home.”

“No, I mean, when school is over. When you’re done.”

“Oh, mm, in short time it is warm, and then we play sport.”

“No, no, ara, I mean, when you’re done, graduated, out of school.”

“When I am man?”

“Yes, Temo. When you are man.”

We passed a pig.

“Oh. I go to university in Batumi.”

“Do you like school?”

“No. I not like study. I like my friends. They are crazy!”

“Why do you want to go to university if you hate school?”


“Security guard?”

“Yes. Patrol.”



Let’s be real for a second here: Our school sucks. I have exhausted myself trying to make it great. But both my co-teachers hate their jobs, our gym looks like a prison, and even the administration has to buy paper from the crazy woman downstairs who lives in a closet.      It’s time to move. I applied for a transfer to Kutaisi.


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