Control

One of my favorite parts about my life in Telavi has been watching the evolution of computer availability with my host siblings. When the weather started to turn cold, and the kids were inside more often, they naturally began to fight over the computer. They'd fight when they got home from school, and would barrel through their homework to be the first done and secure their spot on the computer for that precious hour they [each] get. It's really incredible what flash games and Facebook will do to a sibling relationship.

Most of the vicious fights happened when it was just the two of them in the mornings before school. No one ever truly won - someone would get kicked too hard, punched too much, or in one extreme case, where Goga threw a pair of Ani's favorite pants out the back door and into the weird trash filled creek that flows behind our house, be fed up with Georgian boy shit. Their fighting would be so voracious and frequent that eventually my host mother, tired of hearing about these escapades from the wronged child day in and day out, put a password on the whole computer. That way, she would have to be home in order for them to be able to use the computer. In her mind, she was eliminating a huge aggravator from everyone's life.

Unfortunately, what this introduced was an almost blood frenzy of Internet induced angst from my siblings. Now they'd just harangue her even more the second they were ready to go online, not caring about where she was in the house, what she was doing, or who she was talking to. She'd try to hide her keystrokes, but since the passwords were like four characters long and the kids would raptor pack her (standing on opposite sides of her, with one being a distraction and the other watching diligently for what she was typing) they would figure each one out. But she wouldn't know they had figured it out until the next time they would get in a fight over the computer in the morning and the "loser" would complain to her. 

Then she started to hide the keyboard, under the assumption that if they couldn't type they wouldn't be able to log on. Which is pretty sound logic, honestly, but they're determined kids when they want to be. They found that pesky Special Assistance menu that's on Windows log in screens, which brings up a virtual keyboard. Using the mouse, they were able to select the letters needed for the super simple password. And again, they could have gotten away with this, if only they had shut the fuck up and cooperated and taken turns. But no. Shit fests ensued in the mornings again, and word finally got back to my host moms ears. Naturally she started to hide the mouse, also. 

It began in a drawer in the desk, but Ani and Goga quickly found this hiding spot. Then my mom moved them into a cabinet in the living room, changing what one she'd use every day and always hiding them underneath bedding and towels. That didn't help, either, and inevitably they'd find these peripherals and then use them when she wasn't home. Finally she just started to bring the mouse and keyboard with her to school. It was the solution she had been dreaming of! Divine retribution at last! Freedom from quarreling children always! I mean, it's a bit cumbersome having to carry a full size keyboard and a mouse in her purse day in and day out, but if it saves her a headache or twelve per week it's totally worth it.

So there I was a few weeks ago, sitting on the couch in the petchie room, reading my book. My host brother had just thrown a fit about not being able to use the computer, and stomped out of the room, leaving only my host mom and me. She waits a moment. We hear the bathroom door close, and then she hurriedly comes over to where I am and motions for me to stand up. I look at her curiously, but comply and stand by the door. "Watch for Goga," she whispers as she lifts up the cushions and pulls out the keyboard and mouse from the empty space underneath the collapsable couch bed. Of course I start busting up, because this women just pulled computer accessories out from a sofa with the same caution that someone might have when revealing the location of the hidden rebel base to a confidant. 

And that's the current resting location of the peripherals. Right under my butt as I type this up. My host siblings have yet to discover it, that's how unASSuming (RIMSHOT) it is. I've started to run interference on the kids, keeping them out of the room and occupied so my mom can safely extract the secret devices. The suspense of having the keyboard and mouse magically appear is starting to drive my host siblings insane. They keep asking me if I know where it is, but I always just play dumb and lie. Their incessant fighting makes me want to strangle both of them, and I am pretty sure my host mom is in the same boat as I am, considering she always sighs and yells that she will abandon them and come back to America with me if they keep fighting. So if they want to pull their hair out in wonder as to where the accessories are, let them!

Besides, I've got my own computer, and my own Internet, and I can do shit like this.

Since you need a nice view in order to just look at pictures of cats, right?