At 7:15 this morning a van picked me up outside of Levon's home. Katie, Bethany and Lillie were sitting inside waiting for a trip we would be taking to Tbilisi, Georgia. I knew next to nothing about Georgia. I knew it was a former Soviet state that was given the responsibility to produce wine for the USSR and that during the Crusades, one of Genghis Khan's generals and a scouting party came sweeping down from the mountains and decimated the entire Georgian army. The King of Georgia was killed in his land's defense. The queen had to write to the pope saying they would not be able to contribute to the Crusades as the army it had been amassing had just been wiped off the Earth by a scourge they had never even known existed. Needless to say, these didn't help me too much with the Georgia I would soon become acquainted with.
The drive from Yerevan to Tbilisi took five hours. When I was not busy trying not to vomit of carsickness as we zipped through the mountain passes of the lush Dilijan, Armenia, or having an old woman walk in on me as I squatted over a hole in the ground to do my business in the woman's bathroom as the men's was out of toilet paper I was gazing out at the changing scenery. The dusty hills of Yerevan gave way to rich plains with bright white wildflowers and hills of dazzling black obsidian. The Lake Sevan was as vast and blue as it had been a year before and after a long tunnel that burrowed under the mountainside we were spit out in the middle of Dilijan National Forest. A place where pine trees tower above you and artists and composers of Armenia find solitude. Soon we left the forest and entered Georgia. Rolling plains and tall cypress trees that waved their tall limbs in the strong winds as if they were grasping for the sky. After this it went black for a while as I tried to gain a few more hours of sleep to add to the three hours I had stored away from the night before. I woke up just outside Tbilisi proper. Tall soviet high rises covered the landscape. Uniform and a dirty grey. They seemed almost like separate and silent giants that liked being alone if it wasn't for the brightly colored clothes lines that joined one building to another at the windows. After some navigating we were soon in the Old District of Tbilisi.
We had rented an AirBnB for the night and searched a while for it before a lady who happened to be Armenian was able to help us locate it. Nestled back in between a few houses, we had our own private Georgian home. A small place, just three rooms shooting straight back almost like a shotgun house in New Orleans. A kitchen, a living space, a bedroom and a porch overlooking the city. We made took no time dropping our gear and heading out for lunch. On the way we explored a bit of the city. The first thing we noticed is just how colorful Tbilisi is. Houses are painted all different shades of a multitude of colors and they all seemed to be standing artifacts of times long since passed. There is an air of antiquity to the city that takes the beauty and respect we hold for the past and breathes new life into the present. By accident we made our way into a small coffee shop that more resembled a cave then a business. There a large man sat at a tiny table watching a program on Georgia's role in World War 1. When we entered he got up excitedly. His belly brushing the table so that the plate of diced tomatoes he was working on popped up with him. He introduced himself and upon hearing where we came from quickly made sure we knew that he had been to the United States twice. Boston and New York for Judo competitions. Nothing about the man's physique or affectionate personality seemed to support that he was once a competitive fighter but I believe him. He sat us down and busied himself in the kitchen before he brought out coffees and Georgian style baklava that he pulled from out of a cabinet.
Back on the streets we continued our search for lunch and found a beautiful restaurant. A place made more resembled the home of a Georgian family than anything else we took seats in the backroom. A green and purple, paisley table cloth underneath our starch white plates and a fresh load of laundry hung up to dry rapping against the window next to us. Beet and spinach purees, charcoal grilled trout, veal stew and kninkali (Georgian dumplings) were soon brought out and we tore into it. In no time our plates were empty and our bellies full.
We continued to wander around aimlessly making our way in the direction of a book shop that sold books in English. Along the way we stopped briefly in Saint George's Armenian Cathedral. The interior was a deep blue and seemingly every inch was decorated in some manner. Frescoes painted onto the walls depicting Christ, the Virgin Mary and various apostles and saints. The floor was made up of separate burial spaces of various people important to the church. So many in fact in areas you had to dance to move without stepping on the dead. Framed paintings of the patron saint hung on the walls. Their gold leaf details flickering like fire in the candle light as pilgrims carefully walked close up to the pictures as if not to disturb the peace of the subject and gently kissed the paintings to display their devotion. A tall serious priest in long black robes and a young hairy face waled around the church grounds relighting extinguished candles. The only betrayal of his youth being the balding spot on the back of his head.
After a great deal of walking we found the book shop. It was hiding in an alley. Sitting there in front of a little plaza it shared with a coffee shop and the Canadian consulate. From here we began our journey back through the town. You could be forgiven at one of the many churches, synagogues or mosques in the area for mistaking this area of the city for one of the trendier parts of New York. People dressed with such varying fashions. A dance troupe practiced routines in front of a long fountain in a local park under the direction of an assertive British man who just wanted one more take easily five times. Every corner was the patio of a coffee shop and Georgians of all ages sat and read, conversed or staring off into the distance as they drank their coffee or their wine. Seemingly everyone in Tbilisi was on the verge of making it in some big way. But none to caught up that they couldn't smile at you or make polite conversation as you passed.
In Freedom Square a blindingly well polished Saint George speared a dying dragon on top of a large pillar that seemed to raise the sculpture up to height and brightness of the sun itself. As we were passing I turned to look at a hotel and saw the Marriott logo. My cousin Casey was staying in a Marriott in Tbilisi this week and I had been unable to get a hold of him once we entered Georgia. With some help from the front desk soon Casey had began walking with us through the town. This would be the second time I had run into Casey as he went about his duties for the State Department overseas. Turkey is his next out of town trip for the government, I don't believe I'll be joining him on that trip. We settled down for dinner at a nice outdoor cafe where a duo played Georgian music. The man singing and strumming his panduri (a Georgian string instrument) and a woman sang in support. We drank Georgian wine for the first time and settled into our meal. Cheese stuffed mushrooms, a kind of Georgian deep dish pizza with spinach, beans and cheese, stuffed tomatoes, barbecued lamb and boiled cow tongue which came with some of the spiciest mustard I have ever had in my life.
After dinner Casey returned to his hotel and we boarded a cable car that lifts you from the center of the city up to a peak just outside of it. The home of an ancient fort that lays in ruins and a church inhabiting its grounds for the time being. We climbed up a steep elevation in the church yard that put us far above the ruins which already lay high above the city. We sat there for a long time. Watching the sun go down and cars crawl like florescent ants through the winding streets of Tbilisi. Fireworks began to go off over the Mtkvari River that divides the city into the Old District we had spent the day exploring and a newer one that housed all the more recent developments. The wind picked up and the silence we shared covered us like a warm blanket. After a long while we walked back to our AirBnB where after some quick showers, we were sleeping off the day's miles.
