The Simple Life: A Weekend in a Georgian Village

It was not my decision to skip all but first period of school on Friday, it was my host mother's. As I was stepping into the classroom for second period, my host mom pulled me out and said, "You are coming with me to my parent's village." She had told me about this the night before, but by Friday morning I had forgotten. After throwing some of my things together for the weekend, we (along with my host brother, Giorgi) hopped on a marshrutka and rocketed right out of Keda.  In short order, we arrived in a town whose name I do not remember to wait for yet another marshrutka that would take us up into the mountains.

Here is the thing about Marshrutkas in very simple terms - they offer cheap travel (last week I was able to get from Batumi to Tbilisi, a distance of 228 miles, for only $12) and are not up to code. How are they not up to code? Well, there are no seat belts, the drivers speed whenever possible and sometimes even when it is not possible, and there is no limit as to how many passengers can ride in one.  If a person fits, that person gets a ride. On both rides into and out of this small mountain village, we had to have at the very least twenty passengers stuffed into the marshrutka meant to hold about half that, each with their own bag or bags of stuff. For a good portion of the hour long drive, a butt hovered about eight inches from my face. What I have noticed in the majority of the marshrutkas I have ridden in here in Georgia was that there are religious icons mounted all around the dash - perhaps it is them who help the marshrutka from careening off sketchy mountain roads.

The vehicle to the left is a marshrutka (this is pretty standard across the former USSR).

On the ride to the village of Chkhutuneti, I met a fellow American named Bethany who lived and worked there as a Teach and Learn with Georgia program volunteer. At first, we had not known of each other's presence on the marshrutka, but once the Georgians found out, they thrust me down next to her, wedging me about halfway on the seat and my other half tangled with a spare tire (there really was not enough room to accommodate me). A man I had scarcely said four words to overheard me introduce myself to Bethany and somehow found me on Facebook (I have not added him despite his request).

 After arriving in the center of Chkhutuneti village, which is really just an abandoned building and a school, Bethany took me to her host family's house while I waited for yet another marshrutka to take me further up into the mountains. Really, though, the house that I stayed at was not too far up the mountain, but with villagers carrying all types of provisions, they insist it is easier to take a marshrutka. Our driver on this final leg of the journey could not have been more than 15.

Chkhutuneti Village. It was harvest time and it was all done by hand.

Chkhutuneti's main road.

Marshrutkas are really just a nice way to get to experience Georgian culture (I remember thinking the same thing about Marshrutkas in Russia) because tourists rarely will attempt to ride them.  It is an aspect of assimilation that I as a foreigner feel an inkling of pride when I successfully navigate them - no English and no master directory indicating where and what times these marshrutkas come and go.  They come when they come and their destinations are written on signs sitting in the dashboard.

Okay. Enough about marshrutkas.

Tiko's family seems real nice, but because of language barriers, there really was not much communication between me and them (especially when Tiko went out into the fields to help with the harvest). I decided to take my camera and wander. Less than five minutes into wandering, I was invited into someone's home for coffee and treats. There was a daughter around my age who seemed really eager to meet a foreigner, but there was one small problem. She did not know English and I did not (and still don't) know much Georgian and despite trying to tell her this in the meager Georgian I do know, she spoke to me solely in Georgian.  Then, after having her show me a tiny waterfall, I was invited into another home for more coffee and more treats. I returned home, where my "host cousin" served me...wait for it...coffee and treats!

A view from Chkhutuneti, from lush mountains...

...to snow capped peaks!

Evening light

The main road is only haphazardly paved and only on certain sections.

This type of road is more standard.

The next day I was awoken too early by roosters (I disobeyed and went back to sleep) and proceeded to wake up around ten in the morning.  For the first time since leaving Tbilisi a month ago, I did not wake up cold! The weather was beautiful - warm and sunny - a perfect incentive to wander some more. This time, I was not invited into any homes, but instead had long stretches of mountain road to myself where it was just me, the wind, cow bells, and the wild river far below on the valley floor.  It was tranquil, peaceful, soothing.

One of my new friends.

A magnificent tree.

More friends!

A sunset in southwest Georgia.

I also did quite a bit of reading.

Early Sunday, we left the village and arrived back into the "metropolis" of Keda where I spent the day writing tests for my students.

Monday, a much needed day off, again had very nice weather and that meant I could finally make a trip to Batumi.  I met up with a Peace Corps Volunteer for a lunch of sorts before trekking out on my own and wandering.  Unfortunately, I did not have a lot of time to spend in the city as I arrived late and the last marshrutka back to Keda left at around 7. Currently, I do not have pictures from Batumi uploaded onto my computer, so those will have to wait for next time. At least I now have a pretty good idea about how to navigate Batumi and when my friends come in from other parts of Georgia (and the world), I can now show them around.