One Wedding and No Funerals (thankfully)

As per usual, I am a terrible blogstress. But we all know this. I mean we in the royal sense, in that I know this. The problem with going out into the world and experiencing a bunch of super cool stuff and taking a ton of pictures is that to write about it, even in the half-assed, minimalist style to which I have become accustomed, is so much WORK. But I want to write about some of the traveling I did this summer, and more importantly, share some of my photos! Taken with my terrifically mediocre FujiFilm FinePix A500 (the same camera that has taken all the photos you see on my blog, thus far), they don't really do justice to all the incredible sights I saw and things I did this summer but they're what I've got so suck it. That being said, on to the blog post.

A familiar street corner.

Upon arriving in Tbilisi at about 4 AM (oh Georgia and your eccentric arrival/departure hours.... never change... JUST KIDDING PLEASE CHANGE), I was picked up by Maggie, her boyfriend Guja (heretofore known as "the Guj"), and their friend (sorry friend don't remember your name! Sorry!!). We were driven back to her apartment in Rustavi by said friend and the Guj where we were dropped since Guj had to return back to work, and then Maggie and I stayed up, catching up. I'd like to say my first day back was super-exciting and filled with interesting things but mostly Maggie and I talked, napped, and then attended Guja's grandmother's one-year death anniversary supra. Not the most raucous of affairs but it did mean I got to eat almost all of my old favorite supra foods (barring khinkali and lobiani). And I met a bunch of lovely Rustavelebi. Rustavelians.

The next day, however, we got our act together and headed into Tbilisi to do a little loitering, a little wandering, and a little picking up of a wedding present for Eddie. Things seen:

I'm always a fan of movie posters in other languages because I think they're fascinating. So I love this one first because it does the typical Georgian Georganizing of "Western" names that don't end in a vowel, by sticking an "i" on it. Thus, Hercules becomes Herkulesi. Also seen, in the reflection: the old government building on Rustaveli that I believe was the site for the April 9 tragedy.

Maggie humored me by accompanying me to the amusement park on Mtatsminda "mountain" (it's a hill). On our climb upwards to the funicular, we saw this sign. I really missed Georgian script as I think it's beautiful and fun to read. This sign says, "Tbiliseli", or "citizen of Tbilisi".

Bukowski, in Tbilisi? Damn, I guess their revolution is really not going to be televised.

The base of the funicular is housed in this beautiful, brand-new building on Chonqadze street, up the hill from Rustaveli street.

Less beautiful: the utterly randomly and oddly car-specific graffiti along Chonqadze. I remember this being big in Imereti/Khoni/Kutaisi as well. Come on guys. Surely you can be more creative than this.

Inside the building, looking up at our journey-to-be!

Dat sprawl.

There was, interestingly, a stop about halfway up the hill. Maggie posited that it was for a nearby church and we considered stopping to see it but ultimately decide the lure of Mtatsmind Park was much stronger. Not to mention that I spent most of my first semester going around looking at churches (which I don't regret) but honestly, I feel at this point I've got a pretty good idea what the inside of a Georgian orthodox church looks like. And I had a ferris wheel to ride!

Houston, the Emu has landed.

"Punikulari"

The colors!

Spraaaaaaaawl.

There's a dinosaur park nestled within Mtatsminda Amusement Park, and Maggie I fully intended to go inside and explore, except that they were charging for entrance. And as tempting as the idea of punching an animatronic stegosaurus was, it was not tempting enough to spend my hard-earned Forints (Lari, in Georgia) on when I had a Ferris wheel to ride. So, I give you: stego butt. Plus a structure whose main purpose seems, from outside the park anyway, to be catching animatronic stego poops. Forget dreaming of electronic sheep, let's talk about mechanical digestive systems.

Nope, just kidding (again!). Let's not talk about that.

At last, over a year after my initial conception of this goal, it was realized: riding the Ferris wheel in three of Georgia's biggest cities. Why was this a goal? I don't know, you try living in a Eastern European village for six months and see what you come up with to entertain yourself. As for me, after riding the ferris wheel in Kutaisi and Batumi, the Tbilisi Ferris wheel was surprisingly safe. I mean, yeah, the operator warned us that the working condition of the ride were "not good". And yeah, he cautioned us against going on. And yeah, I had to basically cajole Maggie into coming with me. But once we got on, not only were there leather seat cushions, but the cars were completely enclosed and had air conditioning. What! AC! The Batumi Ferris wheel didn't even have a any sort of door-like structure on it, just a chain they wrap around the backs of the benches, and I'm pretty sure the Kutaisi Ferris wheel groaned every time we so much as breathed. When I tell people I love Tbilisi because it both is and is not Georgia (as I remember Georgia), this is what I mean.

Don't swing the cabin!

Don't light a match and/or lighter!

Things you shouldn't have to be told about sitting in your Ferris wheel cabin.

From the Ferris wheel, I spied this beauty in the distance. Though I could talk Maggie into riding the Ferris wheel with me, I'm sad to say the roller coaster was a lost cause. Not even Maggie, for all her daring, is brave enough to get onto a Georgian thrill ride. Not that I blame her, but for a moment there I strongly considered it. Then I remembered how much I like living with all my limbs and features, and while I'm sure it's perfectly safe to get on a contraption designed to make you feel like you're not perfectly safe by people whose conception of safety (looking at you, tiny perilous elevators, and you, 50-year old marshrutkas) is hazy at best, I decided to forgo. For now.

The Soviet Eiffel Tower, as seen from the peak of the wheel. Also...

SPRAAAAAAAAAWL!

The rest of the park is a bizarre mix of pre-fab buildings housing random amusements and some kind of warped, confused Wonderland/Middle Earth/Keebler Elf-land dreamscape. It's weird, is what I'm saying.

Notice the graffiti inside his right eye socket. How... why...?

Another ride that, to my utter dismay, I could not convince Maggie to try with me. ტრაგედია.

I have a theory: it doesn't matter where you are. Wherever there is un-monitored public wall space, there will be graffiti, big or small, and wherever there is graffiti, there are teenage/possibly adult couples who will try to memorialize their love by carving/writing/peeing their names onto said space.

I am just FILLED with questions about this sign, and though Maggie and I nosed around a little bit to try and find some answers, we came up with very few. I will try to voice all of my concerns/questions/comments:

1. What is "live cinema"?
2. What is "unreal reality"?
3. Why would a star need to wear sunglasses?
4. If the working hours are noon to 10 PM, what does that mean exactly? Is it one 10-hour show? Is it a one-hour long movie/show/extravaganza that is on a loop? How long is this show?? If it is live cinema does that mean there are actors involved? Are they on stage for 10 hours? Or are there specific showtimes? What are these showtimes? Why would you not post these showtimes somewhere outside of your Live Cinema Whatever Thing?!
5. WHAT IS 7D?!?!?!?!?!? Is it 3D times 2 plus 1? Do you time travel? Are there drugs in involved? Is it a Magic School Bus kind of experience? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

I swear to God, if this thing had been open it would have received all my money based purely on the amount of unanswered questions I was left with after reading that sign. I spent a lot of the rest of the time in the park trying to come up with viable answers to the question. But honestly, can anyone tell me?

What is 7D?

Back in Tbilisi, Maggie and I wondered for a bit longer before heading back to Rustavi. This is a bench. It says Tbilisi on it. That's all.

I really do love Georgian script, so I grabbed this shot just because I miss seeing signs like this about. Weird fact I have mentioned before: the Georgian word for 'dentist' is 'stomatologiuri', which really just sounds a little to close to stomach for comfort.

The National Theater, on Rustaveli Avenue.

Not seen: Maggie and I making our way to the giant CarreFour in the Tbilisi Mall and picking out Eddie's gift (a grill plus some accessories), excellently wrapped in the finest purple wrapping paper Rustavi had to offer.

Supra leftovers, plus Georgia actually producing a beer that isn't lager!!! I had non-lager beer not once, but twice while back in Saqartvelo. Truly a hallmark sign of a country moving forward. (This particular beer was more of an amber, and it was delicious, although to be honest after wandering around in the heat/humidity of late-July Georgia I would've drank cat piss as long as it was cold.)

Throughout the visit Maggie showed around Rustavi a bit, and so these photos may not be in perfectly chronological order (an unfortunate side effect of waiting 4 months to write about one's experiences) but here they are!

A bus stop, some street lights, and the dry hills of nothingness, and a pretty big apartment building!

All are welcome, even street dogs. In the background: a family disembarks from a marshrutka.

The view from Maggie's balcony, looking first left at the super-store and then right, down towards Old Rustavi.

This blessed fan, the thing that let us sleep going during some of the hot, airless nights in Rustavi. Except for that one night when there was no power... On that night we simply sweated ourselves into exhaustion.

Delightful khinkali and DARK BEER (!!!!!) dinner at a local restaurant. The beer is local, and you can go to the brewery with your old one-liter water bottles to get all the glorious dark beer you can handle!

Walking towards Old Rustavi, stopping to admire this monument in the center of a traffic circle. I believe Guja said it's dedicate to the young people who lost their lives in the 2008 conflict. (I think.)


The same monument by day! Note the lack of traffic/awake human beings. Obviously this was before noon.

After some fun days of exploring different ways to keep from overheating it was time to get ready and party, for our good friend Eddie had married his ladylove Sopo and it was time to celebrate! Since Eddie isn't orthodox we didn't do the whole church thing but they exchanged some lovely vows at their reception. Guja, Maggie, and I were some of the first to arrive so we had plenty of time to explore the reception hall, which was on a hill overlooking Tbilisi Sea.

Maggie and Guja, in repose!


Our old friend from Khoni, Beso, showed up looking quite snazzy for the wedding! Here an unsuspecting Beso and Guja engage in sort of Georgian man conversation. A Qartveli Manversation, if you will.


The place had a pool, and the pool had a penguin shower beside it. Do you know what happened next? You can probably guess what happened next.


This happened. Obviously.


Maggie and Chemtai, lookin' gorge!

Eddie and Sophia arrived by boat and it was glorious, even if they did take a little while to finally arrive.


Starting to get closer on the left side of the hall, although they would then come aaaaall the way around the peninsula...


Steady...


Oooh! A dress! I see a wedding dress!


Houstin, the wedding dove has landed.


The procession!

Inside, they read their vows after making a grand entrance that I was behind too many people to truly document well. Eddie wrote his in Georgian and Sophia wrote her's in English. It was really nice.

The first dance! You can see Beso in the corner, chillin against one of the columns. It was really an interesting hall to have the dinner in and it looked pretty cool with the lights on.

Then during our supra (or many little supras, since each table had its own surfeit of food!) there were traditional Georgian dancers! I took some pictures (and Chemtai, who was sitting to the left of me and had a better view, took some with my camera as well) but unfortunately without my flash they just didn't come out that well. These pictures are my single greatest argument for finally getting a new camera. Such a shame. Anyway, here's the best of the bunch (and thanks again Chemtai for taking these!):

You'll just have to trust me, it was awesome.

As was this sunset. It really was a beautiful, fun wedding. Hopefully I'll be attending another one next summer as I know a certain Feldman who may be heading in that direction...

 For our last adventure together, Maggie and I decided to head out to Gori, the village where Stalin was born and where he lived as a young boy. Although we wanted to take the train there because it was cheaper, in the end it was simply easier to take the marsh from Rustavi directly there. We tried again on the way home to find the train station but ended up getting lost instead, and so sadly I did not get a chance to experience the wonders of Georgia's rail system during this visit. Nor did I get to see Upslistske, Akhaltsikhe, or Vardzia, oh well I just have to go back!

Our first marsh, from Rustavi to Tbilisi, where we picked up another to Gori!

Sights and...sights upon our arrival in Gori. An old-school looking relief on what I think was a school, and a post office (!!!?!?!??!????) on Stalin Avenue. Yep. The Stalin hero worship only gets more intense from here, fair warning. He is, after all. the most famous person to ever come from Gori (or probably from Georgia).

WWII memorial, located next to...

THE WAR MUSEUM. Which, despite advertising that it would be open by 10, was in fact very much closed when we tried to enter at 11. GEORGIA!

Finally, we arrived at the Stalin museum, located right in the middle of the downtown area. Among its many wonders:

A full-size Stalin statue. Don't see too many of those around anymore.

Truth be told, however, I was more interested in the street dog and her litter of newborns living behind the statue. Look at Blondie's little cry of indignation as his/her brother tackles him/her!

Little weeble-wobbles.

One big adorable happy-ish (don't even think about these puppies' futures or it will make you very sad) family.

Stalin's chilhood home, housed inside a giant marble mausoleum, as if the citizens of Gori were afraid of the shack up and leaving them for greener pastures.

The roof.

Stalin's front stoop.

 Around back.

Here in the year 1879 on December 21 was born I. B. Stalini: here he spent his childhood until the year 1883. (Roughly, I think that's what it says.)

The museum!

State Museum of I .(Iosef) B. Stalini.

The oh-so austere front of the museum.

Looking at the Stalin House Shrine from inside the Stalin's Life Shrine-Museum.

Inside, one of the first rooms we entered. Stalin's desk and personal effects from the Kremlin.

"Stones from a concentration camp where Stalin's son was shot."

..

....

.......

... Oh? Okay. If that's how you want to word that.

Another room: in rapid succession: a bust, a painting, and a photograph of young Stalin.

Literally a diorama of the exact same thing that can be seen out front of the museum except with some trees and fake snow around it. This was not the only diorama of this house in the museum, I believe this was the first of three different ones displaying different aspects of how the house worked. Remember the amount of detail offered here, it will be relevant in a minute.

Here you can see the entire first room of the museum, the walls mostly showing old photographs/painting/reproductions of letters, newspapers, important documents. Most of the captions here are in Russian and Georgian. Note the glass cases in the center of the rooms, they are the multiple dioramas of his house. Note that the one closest to me has an extensive underground portion that shows you how his well worked.

This was pretty cool and I took a million photos trying to document it before Maggie finally took pity on me and used her superior camera to grab this: three different newspapers from the Caucasus, crying out against the struggle. The bottom is in Georgian, it says "brdzola", or "battle/combat/fight/struggle" and the other two are in Armenian and (presumably) Russian.

Towards the end of the museum, photos of Stalin enjoying his victory after WWII. The room after this one moved on to memorabilia of "Uncle Joe", random things with his face on it from all over the world. Then we came to this room:

Memories from World War II, again. Okay.

And then... this fucking room. World War II ended, and then Stalin died the end no questions please thank you! This was a dark circular room with Stalin's portrait hanging next to the entrance (where you said the dude in the green sweat shirt standing). You then walk up the circular ramp until you arrive to where I'm taking the photo, and you can see in the center of the circle is a satin pillow with what looks like an iron bust of Stalin, his death mask, laying in the center. The gulags? The political maneuvering? The years of suffering and control, fear and poverty and sickness? Not mentioned. The mechanics of Stalin's childhood home? Discussed in great detail. I know this museum was built while Georgia was still part of the USSR and as such it would be unfair to expect them to display anything portraying Stalin in an interesting light, but what's fascinating to me is that since then they have made no move to change the museum, except to add English captions here and there. One of their main streets is still named after him and this museum seems as though it was never changed after his death or the collapse of the Soviet Union. Gives you a pretty good idea how a lot of people in Gori feel about Mr. Stalin.

Outside: Stalin's decidedly luxurious train car, which he used for getting around the country.

After the bizarro experience of the Stalin museum Maggie and I decided to explore a bit in the rest of the city.

I think this museum shows up in the dictionary under Architecture, Fascist.

Some grape vines and a very new (although meant to look old) balcony.

Unusual church we saw on our way to the Gori fortress. Georgian orthodox churches normally have pointed domes, not round ones. However the tower sections of this church look much newer than the rest, which made me wonder if perhaps it was renovated after the fact.

In the center you can see what a Georgian orthodox church's towers more normally look like. Also, Gori.

More Gori.

Climbing the stairs to the fortress.

Looking down at the churches and a very interesting little statue park...

Bits and pieces of the old walls.

On our way back down we noticed that the plants were covered in bone-white snail shells!

Shells, everywhere! Where are they all coming from?!?

Next we decided to explore the statue area a bit more. It seems that it's some kind of Georgian round table, as these are definitely medieval knights.

Random strangers for size. These things were seriously big.

Epic, one might even say.

I think the missing body parts represented different things. I don't know. There was definitely a story behind this.

The creepiest/coolest knight of all.

Finally, (although I don't remember which day this actually happened, it might have been multiple days, it's all a big lobiani haze) I had some of my beloved Georgian bean bread, lobiani. This style, with the round pie, is generally referred to as Imeruli (meaning from Imereti) and it's the style that the region of the country where I spent my first semester, Imereti, is known for. It's a culinary delight I miss eating it more days than I don't. Note my mildly restrained jubilation in this photo. Despite the suffocating heat and humidity, I chowed down on this like the end was nigh. I'd do it all again, too.

All in all, it was a nice little return to Georgia. Long enough to go several days without running water and a day without electricity, eat all of the old favorites, discover Rustavi's burgeoning craft beer scene, celebrate a milestone in a good friend's life, catch up with Maggie, ride one more Soviet Ferris wheel, remember exactly why I hate Georgian buses/marshrutkas in the summer time (although my memory of one elderly Tbilisi woman getting on the bus and announcing to us all, in Georgian, "It's hot today!" as though we were her royal court awaiting her decision on these kinds of matters before we make up our own minds is one I will cherish forever, bless her heart), and revel in all things Qartveli  (ancient and new) before heading back to Western Europe...

to Italy. Birthplace of the western world, as long as we ignore everything that happened in Greece before the Romans came and stole it.

EDIT (2/7/2015): Although probably everyone who is going to read this post has already read it, I forgot one photo that I had on my iPod which I'm going to throw on here:

Because Liberty Bank was the bank that supplied all of the TLG teachers with debit cards I am quite familiar with these signs, saying liberty/freedom in various languages, which are above most (if not all) of the bank's ATMs throughout the country. But it was not until I had taught for a year in Hungary that I appreciated the repping of that strange and wonderful branch of the Finno-Ugric language family with "szabadság"! Huzzah for Central European/Eurasian connections! (That reminds me, there was one Polish woman at the week-long program I volunteered at in Poland who told me that the Polish people have a deep connection with Georgians because of their sympathy/support during the 2008 conflict, and who had actually been to Tbilisi for an education conference a few years prior! Such a small world.) Okay, now on to the west!