When Jennifer got Thrown out of Church

Sunday 28th August 2011 

The day began full of excitement and I was very much looking forward to the celbrations in the village where everyone was preparing for the feast day of the Virgin Mary - St Maryem. The family asked us if we would like to go to church as Uleah's baby Giorgi was being baptised. I was delighted to be able to attend church on a feast day and a baptism and of course said yes. Firstly they say we go to church at 11 o'clock. We carefully choose our outfits. I wear a long strapless dress with a cardigan to cover any bits of flesh that can be seen. Martin wears shirt, tie and formal trousers. As per custom I take with me Frances Chalk's purple scarf which uncannily goes with all the outfits I have brought to Georgia, so I am ahead in the fashion stakes. (More about headscarves later) All starts well, we leave at 11:15 (has the service started already? We don't know and can't find out if we are actually late) we call in at Uleah's and she is dressed for milking the cow and not for the baptism of her little son so confusion reigned not for the first time unfortunately this day.  She is going along at 12 she tells us. I don't understand and cannot get a reasonable answer so we do what we always do in these situations and do what we are told by our 15 year old host daughter Nino.

We arrive at the church and I do exactly what Nino does, scarf over head, cross myself the opposite way to what I do in a Catholic church and kiss pictures of saints which is something I don't do at all. It all started so well, forgetting about the Georgian maybe time, so how comes a good catholic girl like me gets thrown out of the church? And how comes Martin ends up in my co-teacher's bed?

These are my observations of Georgian church. I watched and listened and tried to make sense of what was the done thing. When in Rome or rather when not in Rome, do as they do, so I kissed pictures (where do I kiss them? lips, forehead, feet?) I kind of wanted to fit in and didn't want to stand out particularly, unlike Martin who resolutely stood at the back and nipped out for nicotene updates as often as he could. People spend a lot of time standing in church, mainly women I have to say but there were a few men. Whether this was because it was a feast day I don't know. A group of female singers were harmonising beautifully to one side. The priests were dressed in red, and all had beards and they were hidden away in a room in the main space of the church with 3 swing doors, so we could see their heads and feet as they moved about.

There was a bit of a surge forward when they came out and people were queuing up and handing over pieces of paper and the priest read it, told them to kneel down , put their sash on the penitent’s head (I can’t think of the name) and said a prayer. This went on for a while and many men came and made what I assume was their confession. Then all those people who had made their confession went up for communion. The priest had long tongs, picked up a small piece of bread and dipped it in wine and placed it on the person’s tongue. Only people who had confessed sins were allowed to do this.

Then there was a wait and the people by now were chatting to each other and taking photos because the babies were now arriving and there was oohing and aahing. The next stage was where everyone lined up, went up to the priests, kissed a picture, was splashed with holy water and then collected a handful of pieces of bread and ate them. I did what Nino said and followed her.

Nino and Uleah waiting around

Uleah, Giorgi and little Mischko plus a couple of neighbours

Nino, Martin, Big Mischko, Uleah holding Giorgi and little Mischko

Martin, me, Uleah and Giorgi, Big Mischko

The priests work to Georgian maybe time as well so by now there were about 6 or 7 sets of parents waiting outside with their about to be baptised babies. I came out at this point and joined Martin who was on a fag break, took some pics with Uleah and the babies and sat on the steps. The mothers were called forward with the babies and were having a chat with the priest and then they went in. I stood up to go in but Nino stopped me to say that I could not go in. “What do you mean?” I ask but Nino cannot explain properly. "The teacher" (mimes stroking a beard) "The priest" I say "Yes, he says you cannot. Very bad you catholic. Must not go in church" I am a bit taken aback by this. Martin thought it was because of him being of the protestant flavour. But it turns out that it is because I am a catholic. How odd! I thought that Catholics were considered hardcore lol. So I had to sit outside and suffer the humiliation of being refused entry. Why didn't someone say? Why did they let us go? They knew what our religions are! Cannot get an answer to this.

So while we were in purgatory outside the church I pondered on the deep and meaningful question of headscarves.  All the women wear either a loose rectangular headscarf that they drape over their head and shoulders or a square headscarf that ties under their hair at the nape of their neck.  With nothing better to do I did a quick analysis of the range of scarves.  Very few women co-ordinated with their outfit which was surprising seeing as they individually were very pretty scarves in some cases, you know with speckles of metal and glitter, that kind of thing.  However for many it was not a fashion statement.  I think the tie back versions were the worst offenders. In third place; red and white maple leaves. I say no more.  In second position was the nattily transformed baseball cap (for a child) that had been covered in a simple chequered fabric but had a flap at the back to protect (I guess) the back of the neck against heat stroke. You may consider that I am being a bit picky, but I consider it overkill.   However in number one position was this; one woman had a tie back version which had Minnie Mouse motifs all over and to top it all had clipped her hair back with a clip thing that looked like a big pink button (pink disc with four holes in the centre) I was transfixed by this and couldn’t think or look at anything else until I had dealt with the full horror of it.  It’s time they had some kind of Vatican II then I wouldn’t have the time to stare at my fellow church people and could participate in the mass.