Like I mentioned, Wednesday made the third 4th of July that I did not spend in the US, but the first one that I actually celebrated the 4th abroad. We had been a couple of times to a bar in the Old Town that is run by a feisty Irish-American woman named Rebecca, mainly because it is the only place in town that shows rugby games, and Julian loves rugby. Since there were always at least another table of Americans there (not so in any other bar we’d been to in Tbilisi), and it was run by an American woman, it seemed like a good bet. We got there to find that they had decked out the place with an American flag and patriotic tablecloths, and had a foosball tournament and fireworks display planned. I had a cheeseburger and fries, and the closest we could come to American beer- Czech Budweiser (or Budvar, which is a totally different beer than American Budweiser- and better, I might add). The fireworks were kind of comical because the big ones, which were nice, only lasted about 30 seconds, and then when they decided to shoot Roman candles off the top of the building and over the patio where we were eating, it rained ashes down all over us and our food. Everyone was groaning instead of cheering. As it tends to do, part way through the evening the power went out all over Tbilisi, but due to the frequency with which this used to occur, many places, the bar included, had a generator to put lights, music, and tv back on. And then, to top it all off, they were showing a BRAVES GAME in the bar! It was from July 3 and we lost, but still, it was the icing on the cake. Not to mention that we were joined by a very fun visiting Emory ER physician, Bryan McNally, who treated all of us to the whole night. It was really about the best fourth we could have expected in Tbilisi.

I’ve gotten into a fairly comfortable habit of the workday for at least 4 days out of the week (when we take our long weekends for travel). I try to get there between 9 and 10 since the person whose computer I steal gets in between 1 and 2, so I get a couple hours free. (Picture left: outpatient AIDS clinic and research center- literally crumbling. The building is so bad that the first floor isn't even used. Broken windows everywhere.) Twice a week around 12 I show up at the inpatient AIDS center, and one of two physicians take me around to show me the patients. Then, I either have brought some fruit and some cheese for lunch, or I go to the fast food place with the boys and get a lobiani, a strange construction that is a pita-sized piece of soft bread filled with beans of a refried consistency. I like to think that it is better for you than bread stuffed with cheese (the ubiquitous khachapuri), but judging from the grease stains on the paper bag they put it in, it is probably not. Then I steal someone's computer for another hour or so, half writing emails and the blog, half looking up papers, perhaps I talk to the epidemiologist for a little while. Concerned about the magic that Georgian beer and cheap Georgian feasts are working on my waistline, I have started walking to or from work each day, usually from since walking there in the morning I would arrive with sweat stains all over me. It takes a solid hour, so it's probably 3 miles or so, and a nice time to take in some of the city's goings-on. It's mostly quite nice, through the nicest neighborhoods in the city: Saburtelo, where the ID center is, and Vake, where we live, but I like to refer to the long street connecting them as "Taxi Drivers' Urinal"- it's heavily car-trafficked but not pedestrian-trafficked, and so taxi drivers like to stop there, whip it out, and take care of business right there by the street. On hot days it does not smell nice. None of the walk is dangerous except for the shards of broken glass everywhere that could make their way into my flipflops, which I guess should be a real concern of mine. I'll get home around 3 or 4, and I always intend to do more work, but half the time I get lazy and read my book or watch BBC news instead. Then we usually go out for dinner somewhere (the cooking at the apartment has fallen off when we realized it was much cheaper to go out), meet some other American or Georgian friends, and have a few beers.

The time I spend in the inpatient center is about my favorite thing I do for “work” for several reasons. First of all, the doctors are really great and friendly, and all of the doctors, the few nurses, and the medical students that work there are women, making it a unique little environment. It kind of reminds me of working in the hospital in Buenos Aires, back when the whole group was made up of women. Nato is one of the older (like, not my age) physicians that shows me around; she is really sweet and tries her best with limited English to explain all the patients and their treatments and to answer my questions. Pati is the other "boss" of the inpatient center. She is a very stylish woman who speaks even better English, and I have been shadowing her for the last few times. Although she gave me the impression that she is kind of stern-- not excessively friendly like Nato--once I spent a little time with her, I especially enjoyed it. I really loved the way she approached the patients, with obvious intrigue and curiosity about not only the signs and symptoms of disease, but also the social and personal details of the patient's life. Despite the fact that she is always impeccably dressed and styled, she really connects with and wins the trust of the mostly drug user or former-prisoner patients. She invited me for coffee after rounds and we had an interesting chat. On average, each patient stays for 2 weeks, so if I go a couple times a week, I can really see how their care is progressing (or not), and they get to know me and try to converse through the translation of the doctor. Yesterday I was told by one of the patients that I looked like a Siberian woman, not an American- apparently a compliment.

Yesterday I spent almost all day running around making arrangements to go to Baku, Azerbaijan tonight. Getting the visa was kind of a hassle but it was achieved: you apply, wait 3 business days, go to the embassy at 10 am, get a bill, go across town to the Caucasus Development Bank, pay $100, get a receipt, go back to the embassy at 3 and pick up your passport and visa. We also had to go across town (another way) to the train station to get tickets. It was a really busy day, but there is something really gratifying about being able to get business done in a country and a language that is not my own, taking 3 taxis and 2 different buses without any trouble. There were even some delightful parts about it: the cashier at the train station who spoke English, and so, unlike many Georgians, picked up on our strange playful mishmash of Georgian and English words and loved it; the cab driver that took us from the train station to home who somewhat aggressively insisted that we eat the cherries that he uncovered from a little compartment in the console of the car.

We're getting on a long train ride at 5:15 pm tonight until 9 am tomorrow morning (with a 5-6 hour stop at the border) to Azerbaijan. Apparently Baku is the most modern and wealthy of the 3 capitals of the South Caucasus, but also the most conservative due to the Muslim religion. Looks like it has all sorts of Middle Eastern food and some other international foods. The thing you're supposed to buy there is carpets, and even with the $200 ish price tag, I'm starting to think an Azeri rug would look really good on my hardwood bedroom floor in Atlanta. It's also right on the Caspian Sea, so that should be nice. Hope y'all have a good weekend.