Getting to Know You

Thursday 3^rd November

As you might imagine a school excursion in Georgia is not quite like one in England.  Firstly we were told to be at the school at half past nine for the bus.  So it should come as no surprise to find that the bus pulled up outside our house at 8:30 bibbing it’s horn.  We weren’t even up and dressed and had no time to eat anything which was unfortunate.  Evidently the English teacher has problems with telling the time.  The marshutka for the trip hit a new record with the highest number of cracks in one windscreen.

We were given pride of place in the front of the bus for which we were grateful.  See how many people they managed to squeeze in? 17 plus the driver.  There were 2 teachers, 4 mothers, 1 granny and us volunteers and 10 children from classes 4 and 7.  Everyone made and brought food (and drink) to share and we were going off to visit 4 monasteries / nunneries / significant religious establishments in the mountains.  It reminded me of the retreats that Nita used to do.  In her younger days the only acceptable outings that the ladies could do was to go on retreat and visit somewhere religious.  So Nita used to make up picnics and a group of them would go off in her sports car and have a jolly.  Well we were all very virtuous today and we did 3 religious places.  It was pretty spectacular at this early autumn time with the leaves falling and the golden autumnal colours in the landscape.  We revisited one place that we had been to in the summer with Maia and Beso and want to come back in the Winter and Spring to see all the seasonal changes.

We visited 2 places and then sat down at some picnic tables and began the feast.  It was just like how we would do it in England really but with a twist.  Everyone got their bags of food and put dishes on the table which had table cloths laid out first.  They put out plates, serviettes, cutlery glasses and bottles of home-made liquid disguised in innocent looking water bottles.  Khachapuri, chicken, obscure fried birds that had been shot by their husbands, rolled up pancakes stuffed with meat, apples, cheese and Georgian pizza (don’t ask - it is nothing like your traditional pizza) And so we ate, drank, ate, drank and took photos.  Juliet told me that I had to taste everyone’s food, that this one was a very good cook, that this one makes very good cha-cha and this one makes the best khachapuri.  “Tchame, Tchame” (eat, eat) is the war cry of Georgian women.  And so we did. These women knew how to party.  We were pissed in no time (we should’ve had breakfast ….)   The ladies were up dancing to their mobile phones and naturally we joined in.  They loved Martin as he was a man and joined in and they all wanted to dance with him and have their photos taken with him.  The granny showed us her trick with rotating her arm with a full glass, not spilling it and knocking it back in one.  So we all had a few goes at that.  We all sang songs, got kissed a lot and hugged a lot. The children ran amuck having the time of their life running up and down hills.  Then we cleared away and went to the next religious visit.  The 4^th visit involved a long walk up a hill and so we left that one to the dutiful teachers and the children and the rest of us stayed by the marshrutka.  “Wine?” said Sopa (the blonde – well it’s a little blue actually – half-Ukranian) “Oh ok then” and so we continued.

When the others returned Martin went down to the river with the kids and threw huge rocks into the water and the women had yet more photos taken with Martin and then we made our way back home.  But the day wasn’t over yet as we stopped at the restaurant in Kareli, put all the leftover food on the table supplemented by Khingalle and continued to party.  We had such a good time.  I say it again but the kids absolutely loved Martin, especially the boys.  Martin did the drink twisty arm thing and taught the boys to do it (they did it with pepsi though!) and was up dancing with the boys.  Everyone loves to dance and sing here.  The granny surprised us yet again, nay stunned us, when she suddenly threw herself on the floor in front of Martin doing the splits!  OMG it was hilarious.

Like all good days it had to finish and so we went home.  But we had such a laugh.  I think it’s the first time we really chilled and enjoyed ourselves.  Sopa also invited me and the other ladies around to her house for the following Friday to eat and drink and dance.  I was told by Juliet that some of the teachers at the school had an old fashioned mentality and they would not approve so I had to keep it quiet.  As if anything could be kept quiet.

It also turned out to be Khatia’s birthday on the same Friday but no-one in the family had said anything which I thought was strange and there was a little party for her (she is 14).  Maia had set out a table for 6 in the huge lounge and she had made a cake.  I also had to sit there with 6 14 year olds who can’t speak English and who are trying to behave like adults which meant they just giggled a lot.  Maia sat in the arm chair watching.  I made my escape and went to Sopa’s.  What was so nice about that evening was that I felt like one of them.  I didn’t understand a word they were talking about but at the same time understood everything.  We were just women and I just felt accepted and not the outsider.  We talked about children, family and relationships with the help of Juliet.  I said that I had met Martin on the interneti and asked how they’d met their husbands.  Irma was from Batumi on the black sea and had met her husband when she was 15 on the beach and thought he was gorgeous.  Nato from another village, had an arranged marriage.  She used to visit her Aunt in this village and so a match was made for her.  Keti from Tbilisi was also visiting family in the village when she met her husband.  Sopa was from another village and was very beautiful. She hoped to find a husband in Tbilisi as she was very beautiful but her parents had other ideas and she had an arranged marriage with a fat man from this village who was from a wealthy family.  She wasn’t very happy at the time but he is a good man and gives her a  lot of freedom.  She can wear trousers and short skirts and he doesn’t object.  So that’s ok then. She took to her village life well and makes fantastic cheeses and all the other stuff she is expected to.  Keti works in the hospital in the town and is married to an engineer.  Nato doesn’t work.  Irma hangs around the school all day and in the 5 minute break after each lesson sells biscuits in the tuck shop.  All these women are in their 30’s and unlike the majority of women I knew when I was in my 30’s say they are happily married.  The secret of their success is that they don’t worry that they don’t have loads of money.  I assume this means that as long as they have enough to eat and pay the bills they don’t worry about having the latest cars or appliances or more probably indoor plumbing.

The evening went well, drinking and eating and dancing and singing.  Daryjan (the other teacher) played the piano.  Fun was had by all.  I rang Martin and asked him to bring a torch and come and collect me.  He had been drinking with Beso in the basement with some other blokes as Khatia’s party was upstairs and was a little squiffy.  As you could well predict, he had to drink and eat and dance as well.  Georgian women combine traditional dance with disco with much vigour with result that they move from queenly to sporty spice in seconds and back again.  Very interesting!  In the end we didn’t have to face the unlit, muddy, shit strewn paths in the dark as we were given a lit back, much to our relief!