Jesus Walks (In Skartvelo)

"I'm not trying to convert Athiests into Believers
I'm just saying that the way school needs teachers
the way Cathy Lee needed Regis
that's the way (Georgians) need Jesus
so here comes my single, dawg, radio needs this
they say you can rap about anything except for Jesus
that means guns, sex, lies, videotape
but if I rap about God, my record won't get played, huh?"
-Kanye

It's about time 'ye got representation on the blog. And there is no better time than now. I'm writing this from Tblisi, the capital of Georgia (aka Skartvelo). I find it hilarious that Westerners just saw the Georgian Language and threw their hands up in the air. "This looks like Elvish from Lord of the Rings," I can imagine Them saying, "so we're not even going to try. Forget it, just call the place Georgia." This language isn't related to anything else on Earth, so communication is basically dumbed down to wild gesticulation. Hilarity often ensues.

BTW, I'm writing this 2 blocks down from the Georgian Institute of Conflict Resolution. Paying attention Kinneret? On that note, even though I don't think I've gone to a single "normal" country yet, I'm hardly fearing for my life. Probably just because I'm 20 and thus, invincible, but yeah, it's interesting.

So why the "Jesus Walks"? Simple; churches are everywhere in this country. Seriously, Tblisi looks like someone was playing SimCity with cheat codes on, there's just huge spire after huge spire, with a bunch of gloriously dilapidated houses around. I suppose the reason for this is because Georgia is surrounded by Turkey, Azerbaijan, Caucasian Russia (Muslim) and Armenia (Coptic Christian). So they're probably more than a little paranoid about their religion and about being surrounded by, to them, weirdos. Anyway, most of these churches are pretty bland establishments, but the main church is one of those awe-inspiring Houses of God that transcends religion. Going in there was an immensely spiritual experience, the sort that got me mumbling prayers (quietly, so noone could tell that they were in Hebrew). Just a beautiful building. On that note, I also went to the Tblisi synagogue, which was a pretty neat experience, just for seeing a bunch of folks excited to see an American Jew if nothing else.

But of course, Georgia is, in my estimation, the land of Hedonism. It is, I think, the single greatest place to have a bachelor party on Earth. The first 2 days we spent in this country was in the wine region, which is very unique. Georgia is home to 500 varietals, so Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, etc. isn't drunk. Only bizarre things I can't pronounce are, and in absurd amounts. Toasting is a national pasttime, where each man must outdo the last in the eloquence of his toast, and most every family makes their own wine in the countryside. Of course, this sort of wine lifestyle isn't always what I would call respected, which I'll get to later.

The food here is also incredible. The national snack is sort of a cheese-filled pastry. The cheese is a bit like a melty Feta, so it is really an interesting, if incredibly rich, lunch. They also have a really weird but delicious bread that is shaped, for lack of a better simile, a chicken. Of course, since Georgians are very sure not to be Muslim, there is a fair share of pork as well. All in all, it is incredibly rich, fattening, and delicious food, all served mezze-style, to encourage sharing and conversation. It is a good thing this is a really mountainous country and I'll be getting my hiking in later, because otherwise this place would be the end of me.

I didn't even mention the people yet. This place looks like the setting to a Ken Follet novel. Beautiful cities and countryside and absolutely stunning people. Seriously, why he hasn't yet written Khakheti Valley about a dashing family-man vintener with a secret and the city girl he falls in love with (replete with cringe-inducing love scene) is beyond me. This was seriously my first thought after crossing the border. "Why don't people know about this place?" I guess that's what you get for having an indecipherable language and Stalin as your most famous son.

But, if you know me well, "hedonistic" and "wine-swilling" aren't really apt adjectives for me. "Able to eat a table clean" yes, but I at least try to do it with class. Which brings me to the second part of the Kanye lyrics from above, and the purpose of this blog: why do I travel? It is my fervent belief that any joker with an open wallet can drink too much, drink champagne into the night at expat bars, and smoke cuban cigars while talking about how cool they are. You don't even need to go to Georgia to do that. And this, I think, is my major problem with Tblisi. Because the language is so inaccessible, the city is divided sharply between expats/tourists and Georgians. I could wander about Baki like a native, but here I am very much pushed towards going to "O'Brien's rugby bar" or "La Taquieria Tblisi". Come on man, this isn't Highwood.

So when our "dragoman" is ushering us to a "True Georgian" restaurant (it looks like the first Marion Ravenwood scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, which didn't take place in Georgia) serving "Georgian specialties" like...fried chicken, pork kebab, and Jerusalem salad, and charging us 20 Lari (in a place where lunch cost me 1 Lari) because our "dragoman" to quote "got well knackered last time I stopped here" well, I'm bound to be a bit skeptical. I'm bound to get white-hot indignant when the next stop is a nightcap at a discotheque blasting Manu Chao and serving G&Ts. I thought this was supposed to be a way to experience life in exotic places, not be coddled into Disneyland Tblisi. I have no problem with the incongruity of going to a Mexican restaurant in Baki (Pork shashlyk in lavash=Tacos carnitas!) but this is a touch rediculous.

I realize that this is an inane quibble, but it does sort of frustrate me. I don't want to be That Guy Traveling Just to Drink and Party. In fact, I know I'm NOT That Guy, but I don't want the rumour to get out that I am, if that makes any sense. I'm assuming that this is a Tblisi-thing only. Because of the homogeniety and Europeanness of this city, or at least the parts that aren't completely Mars-like to foreignners, its a bit easy to fall into a rut. So I'll try to keep this updated so that my loyal reader(s) aren't reading this thinking that I'm about to create an international incident or I'm just playing pouty princess.

So rest assured, that last sentances isn't what is happening. Life is certainly still good here, and I really am enjoying the heck out of this trip. Skartvelo/Georgia is certainly a wonderful country that deserves so much more than the answer to the trivia question "Where was the greatest mass-murderer in European history from?" It is beautiful, quiet, and bound to get so much worse once the British stag parties show up.

Next up; hiking in the mountains, seeing a bunch of cool monastaries, and Kara Deniz (the Black Sea). Stay tuned, y'all.