The value of coincidence -Borjomi Take I, II,III

Coincidence is an extremely important factor and cannot be ignored. The smallest decision that one take might have far-reaching consequences. It is furthermore necessary that the decisions that define our actions emerge from two different kinds of coincidence: The coincidence that belongs to us and the one that we cannot control (not my theory, only applied by me. The initial idea origins from Max Frisch’s Homo faber). In this case a small sociability from my side – deciding to celebrate with a project group in Scout’s Center, nevermind my tiredness – introduced me to a friendly girl from Yerevan who wanted to show me around Yerevan once I get there. As it turned out, I went there only 2 days later and instead of joining the rest of my group to some desolate mountain, enjoying a sightseeing tour. By coincidence, we ran into a group of volunteers and I made acquaintances with German volunteers to whom I promised a place to stay if they come to Georgia. A couple of months had passed, nothing new from their part. Until one day they decided to come to Rustavi. As they were not familiar with the city, they asked a random bearded guy in marshutka where to get off; his name is Tornike, a former classmate of my mentor Nodo. He promptly showed them my flat and invited the 3 of us (the 2 German girls and me) to his family’s house to introduce us to his cuisine and sister.
After a cozy evening, Tornike then suggest traveling to the hot springs in Borjomi, a couple of hours away. Through great luck, Toko and one of his friends preferred being with us on the 7th January (Georgian Christmas) than with his family… and this is how the actual plot begins.

The first trip to Borjomi:
The following trip will start the same way: Wake-up call a little earlier than 5am, meeting on Meria (main square), marshutka to the train station in Tbilisi facing a 4 to 5 hours of traveling. I’m still astonished by the punctuality of everyone. We didn’t even need to wait for anyone.
The worst part of this train is that it takes a very long time and is extremely slow. Very, extremely slow… Not knowing that it would actually be this slow, I grew a little impatient, as I couldn’t fall asleep and I had just finished Crime and Punishment during the first hours of the travel (a brilliant book by the way, easily one of my favourites). Then, instead of walking straight to the hot springs which was the initial goal, we took another train to Bakuriani (a ski resort). A train even more sluggish than the one to Borjomi for sure. After 2 hours of restless waiting, we finally got out in Bakuriani. For about half an hour. Until we decided to take a marshutka back to Borjomi. Absolutely worth sitting in a groveling Soviet train. At least the price was only one Lari, which is the equivalent of 0.3778€ (according to the exchange rate of the 22nd January). At last, we reached the incredible warm springs after hiking for about 30 minutes. It was so pleasant, that we decided to stay in the hot water for a long time and take a trolleybus back instead of the train. Having a hot bath in the middle of a winter wonderland is one of the most chilling things imaginable. So recreational that I decided to take a second bath just after changing clothes…

 

The second trip to Borjomi:
Wake-up call a little earlier than 5am, meeting on Meria (main square), marshutka to the train station in Tbilisi facing a 4 to 5 hours of traveling. I’m still astonished by the punctuality of everyone. We didn’t even need to wait for anyone.
On the 10th January, a new group ventured on a new undertaking to the hot springs. The group consisted mainly of student friends from Tornike (on the 2nd photo, by the way) and their professor who often led their adventures. As one can imagine, the travel by train didn’t quite feel as long as the previous one, as we were a relatively big group. I had some decent discussions with those Georgian fellows, especially the one who refers to himself as Norwegian on Facebook. An outstanding mind who taught himself English mainly through internet and video games. Soon after climbing into the train, we had to descend again… at this point I would just like to let the pictures talk for themselves.
Focus on pictures 6 to 8: In this magnificent winter wonderland, I fell in love with those picturesque pools again. Enjoying myself in the water or jumping to and fro in the snow for a long time, the time flew by. The most enjoyable thing remains the rather old professor – age 54, no offense to those that are this young and still claim to be fresh and juvenile – who welcomed everyone who left the pools for good with a dry towel and a glass of vodka. It would be a lie to tell that this was the only drink that we shared together as a group.
Fun fact! During our lunch (it could be called being a Supra, considering all the toast and food that we had), the Polish Mafia from Rustavi showed up for baths. They arrived relatively late to the party and didn’t join us for a drink. Also, they didn’t take the horribly slow train with an extremely acceptable price, but hitchhiked back. If I recall correctly, the made it back before me.

 

There’s no turning back

Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.

მწვადი

The 3rd trip to Borjomi:
Wake-up call a little earlier than 5am, meeting on Meria (main square), marshutka to the train station in Tbilisi facing a 4 to 5 hours of traveling. I’m still astonished by the punctuality of everyone. We didn’t even need to wait for anyone.
Probably the most interesting trips of them all, with a lot of memorable happenings. Before leaving, I already knew that the journey would go to a mountain on the way to Borjomi. The same group as the week before, except from Tornike who wanted to show the hot springs to Saba, an old classmate of his and Nodo.
Sometimes your expectations and the actual reality derive a little bit. The thing I wasn’t quite aware of was that the group planned on camping on the slope of the mountain. My equipment was hardly adequate for a night in freezing cold, far from any shop where one can buy food or water. Neither warmth for the night, nor fresh clothes were packed… I didn’t even have a toothbrush. Yet, there was this small voice in my head crying to break free, that wanted to defeat the mountain. It wished to have my body and mind challenged, even though all reasoning objected its will strongly. I’m still not entirely sure how it happened again, but there I was, leaving the warm train somewhere in the middle of nowhere, feeling stranded in a white tundra. I guess, I would have regretted not going with them later. And I surely still don’t.
So, here we were. On a cold mountain somewhere between Gori and Borjomi, struggling our way through a steep, wild path towards the peak of the mountain. Close to an abandoned edifice, we found a rather flat area with no snow where we quickly put up our tents… summer tents. With summer sleeping bags for guaranteed deep sleep. After a small lunch and a bit of vodka (see picture above) some of us got on our way to climb the mighty mountain. It turned out to be a rather tough one, with snow up to our knees at times and a truly challenging inclination. With hunger in our hearts for an amazing view, we ignored all the water that accumulated in our shoes and set our eyes upon a majestic view on a large valley and white mountains in the north. We were not disappointed. As always the pictures never match up with the actual view, which is truly stunning.
All of us returned safely down again (without seeing any wildlife; people keep telling stories about wolves and bears, but we never get to see anything), just in time to sit down around a small camping fire for drying and cooking Mtsvadi (მწვადი). Shortly afterwards, the dark of the night engulfed us and its cold vouchsafed only short distances away from the fire. Luckily, someone had brought an extra 2.5l of home-made Chacha for warming us from the inside. Many toasts followed. Albeit the power of this Chacha – a flaming spectacle – I felt rather tired and went to sleep.
Not even 3 hours later, the cold embrace of the night awoke me fiercely. I instantly protruded the tent and sat down beside the life-bringing fire. Still shaking, a pleasant evening was about to start. My skills at making toasts had improved considerably since I arrive to Georgia and so I was able to enchant some of them with my rhetorical talent (not always, and enchant might be exaggerated). At last, a real camping feeling in all of its shades descended on us so we started singing wildly all kind of songs that we remembered. Some would have called us insane, others just disturbing and I’m personally astonished that no rescue team from the city a couple of kilometers away was sent out for our safety. Nothing of that sort happened. We had simply enjoyed ourselves singing Kickapoo, Beelzeboss, Tribute (Tenacious D), Sheamsubuqe muxlebi, Aerials, …. Every genre or artist imaginable could be listed down here. Unforgettable will be the singing duel that Lado and me had against the 2 girls, before he realised that he was drunk enough to finally go to bed.
It was awesome!
About half an hour later, we packed our stuff and walked towards the train stop where we had to wait another hour until the train arrived. The beautiful red sunrise was giving a great last memory of that place, as we ascended the soothing inside of the train. If I had had something warmer to wear, the small uneasiness (as in illness) that followed my foolishness could have been avoided. Still worth it!

All of those great experiences and memories that will remain in my mind just because I decided to go and meet those almost strangers from the project in the Scout’s Center. A predilection for social contacts and quite a number of coincidences gave me an number of awesome journeys… and more to follow. Odds will surely draw me to the hot springs again. For shadow and flames. For memories. And for a further journey without anxiety linked to freezing.

 

 

 

 

 

The Grey Duckling in all of its colours

Isn’t it odd? More than 5 months in Georgia now, lots of travels, numerous new acquaintances, a great number of unforgettable experiences already and even more drinks and food are in my memory now. Some of them have already been authored into a blog entry. Others are still waiting for their turn. I might not have stayed with the initial idea of making a Supra out of it, with each entry being a toast with an actual meaning. Well, I did share some experiences, some feelings and the like. However, it’s far from as detailed as it could be. You dear readers might expect something greater and it should be my duty to fulfill of your wishes, since you are the guest here. And just like a real Supra, it needs to be a task of greater importance to have you happy in any way. No guest should leave without having allayed his hunger for knowledge… or at least a rather decent distraction from his everyday life (not judging, only guessing).

Fact is, I haven’t truly described my own everyday life. My own dull work life. The places that I keep visiting. The lifestyle that I’ve developed so far. And not to forget the reasons for my coming to Georgia. Probably a thing I should written about in early posts, would have avoided the same repetitive questions (that tend to be answered in a monotone, repetitive set phrase).
Well, here it is once more:
A little more than one year ago I found myself in a situation of confusion. My childish high school years were coming to an end and I was completely clueless concerning my future. Of course, I was looking for universities such as Utrecht, but I was turned down. And then I got this one monthly Email from Luxembourgian Scouts who were seeking for volunteers for a project in Georgia. Without further thinking or expressing my thoughts to my parents, I called Claude for some information (Claude is a Scout from my sending organisation, pretty high up in the hierarchy). The reason for my spontaneous enthusiasm was due to the collected impressions of scouts who had a project in Georgia in 2013,  the so-called Odyssee Project. Not to forget is also an article about the German political Party Die Partei‘s travel to the small Caucasian country. A lovely article about local drinking habits.

Meria, the main square; inhabited by dear Johnny, the friendly dog

Yet, the question arises my friends: Why, of all the wonderful places in Georgia, of all those magnificent seasides, breathtaking views on snowy mountains and extremely various climate zones would I possible choose Rustavi – a city described to me as one of the most ugly cities that Claude has ever seen? A question I’ve been asked and asking myself over and over again… It’s simply the details that make it so pretty. There lies a beauty hidden between all of the shades of grey; not reference intended. ‘28 Grautöne, da werden Sie bestimmt zufrieden sein: Mausgrau, staubgrau, aschgrau, steingrau, bleigrau, zementgrau…‘ (‘28 shades of grey, you will certainly be pleased: mousegrey, dustgrey, ashgrey, stonegrey, leadgrey, cementgrey,…’) Reference intended… Loriot’s Ödipussi. If I leave in the morning for work, the first thing to meet the eye is a backyard. Not that it is particularly nice. All building are coloured in a solid Soviet grey, like most of the rest of the city. However, between all of the grey, one can distinguish a friendly sight: Tall conifers on the right side, clothes in all colours and sizes hanging over your head on ropes and from time to time a small congregation of neighbours enjoying their breakfast (accompanied by Chacha, which they offer you on a Sunday morning, but which is kindly turned down). In vicinity of the volunteer’s apartment is a small bakery. The receptive baker welcomed me by showing me his small workplace and the traditional oven for traditional Georgian bread. Most of the time I buy my bread there, for he’s a friendly fellow. Then I follow the road that leads to the Bazaar, a place where hardly anybody speaks any English, so you always have the impression that it is crucial to learn Georgian. The street itself is surrounded by conifers, stray dogs are constantly around and so are wild cats (but they inhabit trash bins, so the relationship between dogs and cats is rather peaceful). And then there’s a lot of cocks and chicks running around. Although focusing too much on latter might put one in a situation of pain as one stumbles over a heavily damaged pavement. Any precipitation causes a flooding for days and using pavement becomes a challenge. Elementary school children greet me in the street with their beginners English, for it is apparent that I’m a foreigner here. I’ve been called blonde by most people, although I wouldn’t completely agree with that statement. And then there are more detail that make the city alive: Gloomy sellers in every shop, whose facial expression mostly varies from unhappy to bored but never fail to help you. And the majority of shops have too many employees, so they are equally distributed to 5 sections of the shop that could easily be served by 2 or 3 people. And each one of those will try to wrap the ONE article you need from that section in a NEW plastic bag. One shouldn’t be surprised to see bags all over the city and up in the trees, rolling down the roads as if imitating bushes from Westerns.
Certainly, there are hideous places here as well. Everything that belongs to the metallurgical factory is engulfed in a horrid nostalgic Soviet atmosphere and smell of steel industry. Dark clouds escape the flues all the time, slowly creeping over the city (though the wind mostly blows it into a different direction). The edifice itself – lot of grey – cannot be considered acceptable to European norms. The farther one moves away from it, the cleaner the air gets. And finally, the community has finally created some – presumably – safe zebra crossings on the streets. Rustavi is slowly progressing, though not necessarily noticeable.
Not to forget are also those times of water shortcuts. Without warning, the tap water disappears and stays gone for a couple of hours or even days (2 days, with 3 hours of water in the late evening was the maximum so far). Electricity shortcut are very seldom, however. Nights are always a little romantic… most of the times there’s a stary night. A chilling feeling accompanies you when with friends on a playing ground in the night, enjoying a bottle of cool beer, gazing at the firmament. The stars seem to shine brighter in Georgia.
This brings me the next point: My everyday life. There’s that one picture that I keep showing to people who ask me that question.

This is, of course, only partly true. My predilection for any kind of booze has strongly decreased. After four or five months I finally got the chance of quickly improving my Georgian and so I spend my days inside with my notebook, constantly learning vocabulary. It’s certainly helping, though not as quickly as I had hoped. Those previous four months were mostly spent with friends, neighbours, flatmates and couchsurfers. Walking about this town, Georgia or Armenia. And enjoying homemade wines and chacha. I cannot deny having dedicated a notable amount of my salary on drinks. But it has never brought me into a situation of apathy! No matter the volume of alcohol destroyed, the next day was always a time for travels. In fact, I drink so much that I’m done drinking now. The times of pleasure in alcohol are doomed as so will be my drinking. Cheers on that! Nonetheless, no money spent for Nata should be considered wasted, nor time.
I’m taking special care of what is most important in this apartment, right after my dear flatmates: My plants. First, there’s Crassula Ovata, the Jade plant which I saved from a near-death experience in our old apartment and the cactus, which was a present from Nata. Every time I miss her I should hug that spiky thing… the temptation was great. (Léon: [referring to his plant] ‘It’s my best friend. Always happy. No questions.‘)
And there are a couple of episodes about me trying to adapt to local food:

Making Lobio with the best Mentor

Khinkali with Makho

Great biscuits

Not to forget a couple of smaller reunions and parties:

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Parties like 60s party, hip-hop party, WTF reunion, new home warming-up… (The chemical formula in the background is LSD).
Then there also time spent for traveling, but there are and will be many more blog posts about this. No need for that right here. There will be some soon, about my 3 trips to Borjomi. Stay tuned!
At last, what can be said about my everyday worklife… as I had mentioned it before, I work in the local Scout’s Center. Initially, my task should have consisted in teaching English to children in a rather informal way. Teaching by games, activities, not having a frontal lesson with grammar being thrown at them. For some reason, that took a horribly long time to get even started, and now it changed to Outdoor Activities and Sport. And a little bit of Conversation Club. Unfortunately, the only thing that can be added to this, is that I started working on a new project idea with a befriended German volunteer from Yerevan. It’s all about cultural discovery and understanding, mostly for Georgians and Armenians (fun fact about Georgians: they have not many places where they can travel to without visa, except from Turkey and Armenia but still refuse to go there most of the time. There are also quite many stereotypes about Armenians, often related to the size of their nose).

By the way, we’re putting a band together called Vaffanculo. Already world famous, albums will soon flood the markets and fans in many parts of Caucasus. All we’re missing are instruments, songs and the rest of the equipment…
There’s a lot of stories that are yet to be authored. Don’t miss the next episode of Nomethdragon!