At first, I didn't think it so bad. They handed her back to me right away and had us stand outside the church door, the father (Mamao) chanting something in Old Georgian from an old book. I assumed it was some sort of entrance chant. But it went on and on. We must have stood outside for 15 minutes waiting for a break in the chanting, but it only came after my skirt had blown up Marilyn Monroe style a couple of times and the whipping wind had turned my legs white and numb. But finally the Mamao took a breath, looked up from his book and beckoned us through the door.
Then came Sophie's trauma. I had to hand her off to G's dear friend Giorgi, of whom Sophie became automatically suspicious. It didn't take long for my always cheerful baby to find her tears and go into deeper and deeper hysterics as the Mamao began his chanting again. I couldn't help but wonder if Sophie had some other-life memory of pagan rituals sacrificing little children in the name of their gods. Her demeanor suggested that this is what she expected. For my heard it might have well been the beginning of one. Knowing that she wouldn't be seriously harmed during the ceremony was the only thing that kept me from snatching her out of Giorgi's arms and running for the nearest secular stronghold. If there is such a thing. So I waited some more. While my baby cried and looked at me longingly, wondering why I wouldn't hold her.
I wondered if the Mamao was actually going to chant out the whole prayer book he held. They held candles, lit candles, dipped Sophie's feet in water and splashed her head with it. Then there was an elaborate ritual wherein the Mamao had to paint little crosses in oil on her face, hands and feet. Sophie then did her best to keep away from his little paint brush. Then they cut her hair. Then they walked around the bowl of water, candles in hand, three times, before pausing for a final chant and finally, finally, handing her back to me for a long recovery.
Sophie's first encounter with the church.
On the way out, the wind was whipping and the men raced to the cars, leaving the women to fend for ourselves with Sophie in hand. Realizing what they'd done, they raced half-way back to help us the rest of the way. Sophie and I sat in the front seat of Giorgi's (Sophie's Godfather's) car. She gave him a cold and hateful stare the entire way home.
Once back at the farm, the party awaited. Sophie nursed frantically for a while and then passed out cold after her huge day and woke a few hours later when the party was still going on. When I handed her to Teco (her Godmother), she grew instantly suspicious and scared again. It'll take a while to get this day out of her system. Later that evening, I got sick, so I had to turn in early with Sophie. Neither of us minded though.
The next day turned out to be a much better day. We took a walk to the back of Giorgi's family's property, where you can see the earth curve. A much better place to find God in my opinion. And, as if on cue, a tortoise appeared there. Nature has a funny way of coming full circle for me.
Once back at the farm, the party awaited. Sophie nursed frantically for a while and then passed out cold after her huge day and woke a few hours later when the party was still going on. When I handed her to Teco (her Godmother), she grew instantly suspicious and scared again. It'll take a while to get this day out of her system. Later that evening, I got sick, so I had to turn in early with Sophie. Neither of us minded though.
The next day turned out to be a much better day. We took a walk to the back of Giorgi's family's property, where you can see the earth curve. A much better place to find God in my opinion. And, as if on cue, a tortoise appeared there. Nature has a funny way of coming full circle for me.
Sophie has been to one other church since that fateful day. She was nervous and wanted to leave ASAP. Fortunately, she was able to remain safe in my arms for the entire visit.
