The Road Less Travelled

After lots of whining and cajoling on my part, Giorgi finally gave in and took me on a "family adventure." We drove over an hour into an through the city of Gori, which some of you may recall was the main focus of Russian hostility during the August 2008 war. Finding no signs to our destination, we had to ask directions to the ancient cave town of Uplis-tsikhe, translation: God's Fortress. The weathered man on the road told us to turn left, turn right, go over the bridge, and then we would see the town right in front of us. We turned left, turned right, went over the bridge and found only a "T" in the road. We decided to turn right at the "T" because that road was new and freshly paved. After driving about 5 km without any luck, we turned around and took the road to the left, which consisted of mostly dirt and potholes and only remnants of the original asphalt. We were again bouncing through the back country of Georgia and it felt good.

We trekked back over the river on a bridge where local boys were jumping the 20 feet into the water without batting an eye, and without a single sign showing us how to get to this major tourist attraction, Giorgi, Sophie, Luca and I followed our noses and came upon Uplis-tsikhe at the hottest point of the day when all other tourists were headed home for siesta. We had no choice, though, we had to squeeze our trip between and into the nap schedules of two little people. So, onward we went into the cave village.



Sophie made instant friends with the ladies taking care of the restroom as well as the resident dog (who enjoyed her leftover khachapuri) and immediately decided to act as our tour guide and guard dog, growling at all of the guests going down as we walked up. Our hike began in the cool tunnel to the river, where we climbed up and up and came out into a complex of cave dwellings and churches. The trip probably would have been much more informative if we had purchased a guide, but, as it was, Giorgi only mentioned that there were guides for sale once we reached the village at the top, and the guides were all the way back down at the bottom. Anyway, we traipsed around the sandstone guessing at what holes in rock might have been two thousand years or more ago when the city flourished. We're pretty sure we found the kitchen, but then again, it could have been an ancient pagan ritual sacrifice alter. Perhaps it was both.

We hiked almost to the top in the hot summer sun but Luca let us know he had had enough. I left my entire family in a cave to stay cool and forged ahead, determined to get some good shots of this tourist mecca even on the mother-of-a-toddler and mother-of-an-infant timeline that we had. So I got the proverbial church shot and headed back down to rescue my family from the heat.

We took an actual family photo from a perfectly situated ledge where they waited and then headed back down the hill and through the tunnel from whence we emerged. We even caught a glimpse of a bat on the way down. Giorgi cautioned me not to let it get caught in my hair. If only I were a squirrley wife and worried about such fluffy stuff our conversations might be a little lighter!



Sophie's favorite part of the adventure was hopping down each and every step, which took almost as long as our whirlwind tour itself. We traipsed back to the parking lot under the exposed electrical wire hanging across the path and back to the truck which stayed surprisingly cool, and bounced back into civilization.

Once in Gori, we wondered when we would ever be in Gori again and decided to take advantage of the moment and poke our noses into the Stalin Museum (yes, Stalin was from this very city in Georgia). So we bought tickets and this time purchased a guide. The guide led us on an abbreviated tour, which turned out to be her entire spiel, just said faster. I couldn't understand most of it, as she had a thick accent and was speaking too fast, but it was fun to walk around and look at pictures of Stalin and his family and see little models of illegal printing presses that he used in the revolution. Perhaps the highlight of the Stalin museum, though, was the 25 Lari (~$21) magnet I had to have. I made Giorgi buy me the magnet/bottle opener because, really, who else can say that they have a Joseph Stalin magnet/bottle opener?

Out of money after our major souvenir purchase, we headed back to Tbilisi to bathe our children, eat dinner and eventually get some much needed rest. It was a good day indeed.

Into Kaheti

Today we spent with friends in Kaheti sightseeing in Signagi. When tourists were looking at the vistas Signagi has to offer, my friends and I strolled along the cobblestone streets eating peanuts from street vendors and looked up at the laundry and mattresses hanging off of balconies. We chatted about diapers and baby carriers and wheat. The children made water ballons and ate popcorn and played on the playground.

We found my godmother there selling souvenirs to the tourists and were showered with free souvenirs ... everything Sophie touched turned into a gift for her from the women selling their wares. While admiring the souvenirs, the neighbor saleswoman asked Giorgi his last name. We learned it was her maiden name and they were 2nd cousins. It seems as though everyone is related here!

We drove my godmother home and the neighbors all sopped to stare at the American in their village. I'm sure it will be the talk of the town tonight!

Once at home, we prepared a supra in the garden and under the grapevines for our friends and in his best Tamada form, Soso led the guests into that place I have only seen at a Georgian table where thoughts of tomorrow completely dissolve and friends come together right here right now. It's as if a ray of light is shining only on now... and now... and now, each moment suspended in the air with every toast.

I need to do an aside here about the art of the Tamada (toastmaster) for those of you who haven't read my earlier blogs. When I first came to Georgia, I loved the Georgian toasting table, but was a bit taken aback by how much drinking it entailed (for the men only thank goodness!). Then, as I got to know the culture better, I began to appreciate the value of a great tamada. For those of you new to this scene, a tamada must be able to out-drink his guests, out-sing his guests and out-orate his guests as if these three things were for sport. The tamada must hold his guests' interest by toasting (after every toast, the entire glass is drunk), singing folk songs in perfect pitch and/or reciting poetry, all from memory, and all night long if the party demands it.

Giorgi's father is such a tamada and I feel blessed and lucky to have him as my father-in-law. He can accomplish that feat of feats at the table, opening the window into a timeless state where all is forgotten but the table. No worries about working the next day or what is happening at home. Only thoughts of affection for those at the table one by one, heartfelt, and then for the children playing in the yard, for our ancestors passed before us and the land around us. A particularly favorite conversation this evening centered around Soso's allegiance to his vineyard as his "other" son and how torn he is when we are in town because Soso feels that he must sometimes choose between his two children. Giorgi, however, was less impressed by this line of reasoning.

We partied into the night, each taking turns having fun with the children or participating int he toasts. As the evening grew dark, the electricity went out for a while. No one batted an eye - all simply went on. Someone stuck a candle into a loaf of bread and light remained at the table. Sophie kept trying to blow it out like a birthday candle. Later in the evening, one of the kids started playing music from a car radio and people began to dance. At midnight on the dot, as if under Cinderella's spell, everyone piled into their cars to travel the hour and a half back into the city.

I wish I could bottle the feeling behind the friendship and parties here. Maybe it's the air or the land or the water, but it seems that in Georgia, sleep and work take a back seat to spending time with friends and family. It's Sunday night and our friends all work full time jobs and have small children. In our house this evening were children ages 1-12 (plus Luca of course), all of whom had a wonderful time together staying up WAY past their bedtime. Nevermind. We're together and happy. Nothing more. Meti araperi. Vikaipot!

After the kisses and goodbyes and clean-up, Soso decided to make coffee for us all. So the four of us sat outside (Sophie and Luca had passed out a little while before everyone left) watching Soso animatedly make coffee and then sat down to drink and process family affairs. The supra's veil lifted with guests departed but we continued to giggle and enjoy one another's company just a little while longer.





Finally, Giorgi and I brushed our teeth in the new running water, brought the children upstairs to our beds and slept.

Playing in Georgia

As jet lag dissolves, Georgia comes into focus again. We've spent much of our time napping and trying to get 4 people onto the same sleep schedule. Not a small feat to be sure.

Sophie and Luca are beginning to get along a bit better. Sophie still is a bit rough with her affections, but Luca handles it thus far. We left Sophie's old toys here and Luca is the perfect age to partake now.

Since we arrived, water has been scarce. Our house is located on the main water line for the suburbs, so whenever there's a water issue in any of the suburbs on our side of town, we must go without water. It makes for an interesting shower schedule. Or lack thereof. Water is also shut off here from the wee hours of the morning until about 8:00 a.m. Another reason to get over jeg lag as soon as possible!

We've been to Mtatsminda a few times already, soaking up the play time when we can. In these pictures you'll see Giorgi's nephew Dato, who is 6 months older than Sophie. You'll also see me holding what looks like a beer, but is a local brewed drink called Kvass. It's brewed like beer but has no alcohol. As a nursing mother, it's my new favorite. One glass makes milk flow like nothing else I've tried!



It's been wonderful to see friends and family here. Sophie is understanding the language, but still not ready to jump in and communicate in Georgian. She's missing the pink house but can rally in true Georgian form and always rises to any occasion. She's especially loving the playgrounds and spending her days with Daddy. Luca is doing well considering his colicky start in life. He even slept through my birthday party the other night in the next room! And those of you who know both Luca and what Georgian parties can be like know it's a great accomplishment!

Getting up and running

After a long flight from MSP to AMS and just before our flight to TBS, Sophie finally gave in to sleep. The first leg of our journey was quite pleasant, considering: we were given bulkhead and a bassinet with an extra seat so we could stretch out a bit. The second leg, however, was not quite so pleasant for me, as I got airsick and had to hand over responsiblity for both kids to Giorgi, who was a champ to take them both for the majority of our 5-hour flight, as I sat with my head between my knees trying not to throw up. Ugh.

For the first time since I've been coming to Georgia, only Giorgi's brother was waiting at the airport with his family. It was wonderful to see them, but strange not to have a huge crowd waiting for hugs and kisses as soon as we passed through the glass doors and entered the country. However, things got a bit more exciting when we all piled into the Toyota T100 that Giorgi had shipped last year (Gocha's family in the back and ours in the front -- sans car seats) and began the final leg of our journey into the back country of Georgia to meet Giorgi's family at the farm where they were finishing up a year-anniversary party of Babuli's death.

In Georgia, after a death, the family mourns seriously for 40 days (e.g. no parties or good times) and then after 1 year has a farewell party for the deceased. This was the party we came upon at dusk after our long journey. Hoards of people were there, the sun had just gone down, and the electricity was out. It was a surreal experience to be descended upon by friends and relatives one by one hugging and kissing but only visibile by the quickly fading light of the day and then only by cigarettes and cell phones. Luca disappeared almost as soon as the car door opened, as the women needed to hold him each and every one. Sophie would have had the same fate, but stuck close to me as she was not ready for the overwhelming family this time. We finally reached our beds when the generator was just getting up and running and slept.