The marks of war started to be seen in 20 km from Tbilisi when I saw a huge refugee camp. Tiny houses were built in long rows very close to each other. Gori was soon...
When I arrived to the town, I was surprised how small it was. Though, I paid more attention to the spots in the walls that were left after bullets. They were only 5 years old. Later I saw the whole two-storey building burnt to ashes.
Today was simply the day of kindness and also the great Georgian holiday as I was told in the car. Many people from across the country were heading to Mtskheta which is situated right between Tbilisi and Gori. So I had to leave my huge bag and go in a new adventure. I checked the hotel first and was pretty frustraited with the price for one night. 70 lari was incredibly expensive for me but another hotel had just the same tariff.
Then I decided to step out of my comfort zone because only in this way there was a possibility to meet ordinary people with extraordinary stories.
I turned in a narrow and short street and asked an old woman if there was any place to rent here (so great that mostly all older generation understands and speaks Russian). Unfortunately, she didn't know but I didn't give up as well. I went up to the next turn into a new street and saw a bench with several old ladies. After a few minutes of explaining I was welcomed there and one lady's daughter which was around 40 years old accompanied me to a house where I could rent a room cheaper than in any hostel (there were no hostels in Gori though). Then when I left my bag we came back to her home where I also met her son Achi, my peer, and they gladly treated me with coffee. A wonderful family! Thank you so much for your kindness!
Achi also showed me Goristsikhe fortress.It is an impressive historical sight from which I was able to see all around Gori, including mountains and a military base. And somewhere up north where I was looking at there was South Ossetia, part of Georgia but no longer available for Georgians...
In one hour I said good bye to my new friend by a kiss on a cheek (still weird for me but it is part of their culture) and I left for Mtskheta, to see my first Geogian festival.
They call each other "brother"
Even though at every "party" some Georgians try to fight with other, they really seem to be nation of brothers. "Brother," one man will say to me that night, "we have only 4 million Georgians. If there were 8 million, we would have kicked Russia's ass."
Having stepped out of my comfort zone, I proved that Georgians are not "dangerous or rude." Again: people are friendly. As the moon came out and noisy festival was going to its end I was invited to join the table in the street. The company offered me free wine and shashlyk. We exchanged stories and laughed; there was another random guy who was really drunk and he sang songs for us.
After the party I didn't stop. One man told me that there was some monastery near Mtskheta where everybody could stay for a night. I didn't have such a place so I decided to randomize current situation and take even more risk. Shiomghvime Monastery was about 12 km away... "2 hours," I thought. "A nice midnight walk," I thought. There was no soul around in the mountains. Only the bright full moon and I, breathing cool clean air and watching fabulous stars. Such a harmony...
It turned out that in the middle of my way I chose a wrong path and went up the hill to a different monastery - what a joke! I spent 30 minutes going up to the closed building with no windows but one heavy door. I had knocked on the door but apparently there was nobody. I laughed. Then I watched the moon and found myself so calm... and happy. I was pretty far from a civilized world. Mtskheta shined somewhere aside like hot charcoals, and only a train passed by down the hill as a very, very slow ray of light.
Then I came back where I started going in a wrong direction and continued my way. What I had left to do? Though, I had a feeling that I was close... Close to what? Maybe, to another group of kind-hearted?
It happened to be true. A car (simple old Russian VAZ) appeared and stopped. "Hey, brother, aren't you scared of walking alone? Maybe, you need a ride?" asked one out of four Georgian men. Somebody else, be in my shoes, would run away but I had a feeling that it had to happen.
I sat into the car and found out that these people were going to meet their old friend with whom they served in the military. This friend lived in a little village where we got in 5 minutes. Home-made vine and chacha (Georgian vodka) waited for us. Again, for another time I was sitted at the table as an honourable guest and was eating simple but so tasty and desirable bread, trying other products of a poor host: cottage cheese and grapes. That man lived in really small and very moderate house and had 6 (!) children, but he was glad to see his friends and me, a random foreigner. For him the spirituality was more important and he was good to every "brother".
"Isn't it hard to support 6 children?" I asked.
"6 children in my family - happiness to all Georgia,"
he replied.
We also talked about Russian-Georgian relations and the war (this topic was still hot for me). One of the man, the most talkative and the one who mentioned "the kicking of Russia's ass", replied, "People [Russians] are not guilty but the governments [Russian and Georgian]. We love Russians as well, brother. There could be no war. We didn't want the war. But the politicians are stubborn and don't want to give up on their plans."
Learn to give in order to receive without thinking about receiving anything. I was surprised when the coolest of "brothers" in the company in Mtskheta asked me to buy shaurma (another delicious dish) for his young wife (which by the way looked like a high school senior) because half an hour ago they were giving away a lot of food and wine... Oh, that great Georgian wine. But why not? And I just did. Later another good thing, good people in the car, happened to me.
So yeah, pay it forward.