To Kiss or Not to Kiss

Last Monday I took a refuge at a little park by Marjanishvili bridge. As I was sitting down, I saw two girls and a boy on a bench. The boy was kissing one girl and the second girl was staring somewhere beyond the horizon. I thought, aha, this is a perfect example of a girl not going on a date without her friend, dragging her everywhere (seriously, we had a party once, tickets were sold out, one of our friends asked the organizer to sell him reserved tickets. so she was like fine, show up and will let you in. Then he asked if he could bring his gf. He was told yes. And then he added that he needs a third spot too, because his gf does not go anywhere without her buffer friend). After eating my sandwich, I got up and was surprised: the same guy was kissing the other girl! It was 2 P.M. at a very busy place! I was so surprised, I did not know what to think, other than, go boy, congrats for convincing these girls to kiss you!
The same week, I came across an article describing new regulations that forbid kissing in the parks. As a response to that , a kissing protest was going to be held this Saturday, in the new "park" by the new bridge.
Now, I understand that making-out in public places may bother some people, especially nannies and grandmas who walk little children there. another reason why I find it problematic, is that I have often noticed a pervert in the bushes, doing...yes, you've guessed it right, while looking at some innocent couple kissing on a bench. Also, it just makes people feel awkward, they run through the park, trying not to look left or right, but catching the scene in the corner of their eyes.
On the other hand, being through the whole park thing myself, i understand these couples. I mean where else should they go?! They don't have own apartment or a car, they can't kiss at home, there are no special kissing spots that you could rent hourly :-) and furthermore, many of them are afraid to be left alone in the room, cause they are proper Georgian kids, waiting to get married and then have some alone bedroom time. What, should they just stop kissing? They will find other spots, do we want them to flood our hallways (padiezdi)? Coz that's the other fav. spot, only it is darker, smellier and you are always at risk to be discovered by your neighbors (at least I was...)
Yesterday, a girl in marshrutka was telling her friend about the kissing protest. 600 people registered for it on FB. 100 came. Out of this 100, 4 pairs kissed and others watched.
So, in the end, no one dared to protest. No FB revolution for us.
Damn it kids, you are supposed to do all this teenage, I-am -against-the -world things! Stop smoking and spitting, swearing and fighting, gossiping and bullying, listening and obeying and start the upheaval! Find someone, kiss someone, do something!
You are wasting your time!
As for the park security regulations: ***********************! **************************!
p.s. the pic: hubby and me KISSING IN THE PARK!

Tbilisi Open Air

We’re getting old. This Tbilisi Open Air was boring.
It is still good to have such events, many people have opportunity to express themselves without being hit in the head, they can prance around with piercing and tattoo, yell, show off “Nirvana” shirts and mess up their long hair.
Once, I went on a blind date with this rocker dude and while we were walking in the streets, somebody threw a stick at us…
Nice boy. He gave me two cute hamsters on our second date. The thing didn’t work out, hamsters eventually escaped and set a fort under my aunt’s bed (she hates, hates rodents), but our acquaintance was valuable, cause it was the first time I realized that people in Tbilisi throw stuff at other people in Tbilisi.
Being fairly “normal” girl I have never experienced sticks thrown in my direction. Nasty comments, yes, but objects—no.
Somewhere after seventeen, I began gradually morphing into what I am now, starting with replacing the love of my life, Enrique, with classic Rock. I discovered a whole subculture of weird, long-haired, pierced, chain-wearing people with black nails, some guitar skills and big protest against this mainstream Vake-Saburtalo crowd.
I used to stop and listen to them play in the underground passages. I wrote a story about them (something like: breaking free from the oppressive regime of Tbilisi by packing canned food and escaping to the mountains with guitars and nothing else). I wanted to know them better but I did not have a contact person.
Surprisingly, the one that introduced me this world and took me to my first Goth party, where men wore make-up and torn jeans (how scandalous!), the person known as Voland (devil charcter from Master and Margarita), one of the first members of TB Rock, was no other than my bf (now my hubby)! Who could’ve thought that after looking for a friend rocker in the underground passages, I would find one in Giga, this nice guy, who went to ESM, wore ironed shirts and pants, worked for Pepsi and charmed my family!
This is the same person who went wild on the 1st Tbilisi Open Air and played an air guitar, gathering a circle of amused spectators. Oh, the first Open Air…the bands were cooler, the crowd was larger, the weather was nicer and it was such a new thing, like our own little Woodstock… right here, on the hippodrome.
This year, we yawned a lot and walked around to take pictures. Once or twice we tried jumping up and down, but it did not really work out. We dutifully went both days, missed the band we liked (Green Mama) and met many people we haven’t seen for years. My American friend was approached by two boys who offered “special service”, no doubt for money. They insisted on translation and made us feel like pimps. My other friend engaged in a weird, stupid tradition of smashing each other, while some wanna-be-hard-rocker dude screamed on the stage…now I understand the film Fight Club. I have to admit, it was interesting to wacth.
Thus, this Tbilisi Open Air was not that much fun, but still…no one threw sticks at us.

On the Benefit of Breathing

All aerobic creatures need oxygen; mammals cannot survive without it; after four minutes of no oxygen, human brain suffers irreplaceable damage.
In a process called photosynthesis, plants convert carbon dioxide into oxygen and provide us with breathable air.
Trees are plants.
Tress produces oxygen.
We breathe oxygen.
See the connection here?
Not yet?
Trees do not grow in the cities, unless specially planted and maintained. And usually, it is more cost effective and more productive (oxygen-wise) to have a multitude of trees in one area. Those areas are called parks.
Parks, my friends, are usually located in the middle of the city, where weary citizens can sit on the benches, listen to urban birds, feed fish, squirrels or other critters, walk their dogs, make-out with their partners, eat and spit sunflower seeds, or in case of my friends, drink beer and talk about complicated matters. Parks, my friends contain trees, tress produce oxygen, oxygen we need, and so on…
Why am I writing for a three-year-old? Cause these simple truths do not make it all the way up to our city planners. They probably have their own backyards, with own, private oxygen, I don’t know. But they are sure that rest of the population can breathe what our cactus produces on the window sills.
Take the hippodrome for example. Happy hippos, I mean horses, pranced around here. There were stables, my father used to race here. It is unusually green, with hills from one side and trees from other, blocking the buildings. It is the only big park in Saburtalo.
So hurry, hurry, come see the hippodrome. Cause soon, it will be all covered with ugly apartment buildings. And horses? Well, horses got moved to a better location. And trees? Well, trees apparently carry no value. Cause once the building get there, the trees will disappear.
I understand that horses need more suitable place. They shouldn’t be in the middle of Saburtalo (and neither should be our pathetic zoo, I hope it gets moved soon). But why can’t we have a nice park on that territory? I mean, it is already there, you don’t need to plant trees, build trails, grow grass, anything, just some benches and garbage cans. That place already has athletes jogging, children playing, dogs pooping, couples kissing and grandpas reading newspapers. It supplies us with oxygen and there is no other green spot on this side of the hill!
To whom it may concern: please, please don’t take the hippodrome away, if you don’t understand why we need it, I am ready to explain it all over again:
All aerobic creatures need oxygen; mammals cannot survive without it; after four minutes of no oxygen, human brain suffers irreplaceable damage.
In a process called photosynthesis, plants convert carbon dioxide into oxygen and provide us with breathable air.
Trees are plants.
Tress produces oxygen.
We breathe oxygen.
p.s. pic of daisy i took in Racha

Fight or Flight and This Stupid Demonstrations

When stressed, we have a flight or fight response. I always fancied myself as being a fighter, but twice in my life, I chose to run and hide and deal with the problem later.
During the August war, hubby, brother-in-law and I went to Tskenti, to hide in our relative’s school. After being worried for several days, wondering about the fate of my brother-in-law, who was in a reserve, finally re-united, we just ran the hell out of Tbilisi. Now that I think of it, it was more of a flight from the stress than finding shelter from survival. After all, how was Tskneti safer than Tbilisi?
During those three days, I refused to watch TV or talk about the issue. I read wonderful book by Anatol France, walked in the forest and breathed fresh air. I was ready to deal with what happened after we came back home.
These protests have stirred similar feelings in me. I don’t watch TV anyway, and I haven’t turned it on yet. I guess I should keep away from FB, people keep posting videos. I escaped to Racha and tried to ignore Tbilisi for a weekend. I came back and found that all of the posts, FB statuses and other sources of fun have exploded with discussions. Magazine “Liberali” provides the best overview of the events. I am being sucked back into this.
So, thoughts? Emotions? What can I say, I hate being in a country, where opposition is comprised of people who made dirty money all the way back from the Soviet times, have been in the government, have supported it, have praised police for dealing with the demonstrations in the past and now gather a crowd to present unreal, unjustified and stupid requests. They are not ignorant, thus the reason for such behavior could be: 1. there is someone backing them up 2. they want us to pay attention to them and forget about the real issues.
On the other hand, people have been beaten in the forest, have been arrested and denied medical help and their rights have been violated. Of course, the meeting on the night of 25th was illegal, but if the aim was to prevent the meeting, then why the hell were protestors even allowed to get to the freedom square? They were let in and the then the gates were put around them, making a cage. Couldn’t those gates block the people from coming in instead of going out?
It is horrible to watch how several men beat one person, who has his hands in the air and surrenders. Who should we blame, those that brought that person to the “freedom square” or those who were beating them? Of course, we should also blame the person, but he admitted defeat, asked for mercy, shouldn’t that be enough? Why, why are we going through this again? Can’t we learn anything?
I’ll tell you why. Because every time this happens, no one is held responsible. Several years ago we witnessed some conspiracy theories about the opposition, but those people still roam free. If they truly were spies, why are they out? And on the other side, in November 2007, I saw with my own eyes how 5 men hit one protestor in the head. 5 of them hitting this man’s head! All caught on tape! No consequences for them either!
My friend recently wrote a post, claiming that our generation does not deserve this. Truly, we’re not participants of this theatre! She also wished that an atomic bomb could destroy us. Congratulations, once again we got reminded that all of this around us is just a façade, that we’re in deep shit and we’re sinking even deeper.

Touching Girls

This post is a response to comments on various blogs, claiming that there is no sexual harassment in Georgia.

Hey you, yes you, the one who writes that Georgian men respect women, the one who claims that perverts do not exist here, that streets are safe and that it is women’s fault if they get touched! I am going to be very honest with you and tell you little stories that happened to me or my friends…

Stuff like that does not happen to me anymore, but when I was a teenager, all sorts of creepy men took advantage of my vulnerable situation.

Once, my very conservative friend was sitting in marshrutka and she saw a guy petting something in the corner. She thought he had a puppy or a bird. Turned out, it was a not a bird. My friend was so ashamed, she did not dare to say anything.

Often, in a crowded bus, I felt men standing behind me. I used to calm myself by thinking that it was probably a briefcase or an umbrella, because there was nowhere to move and I couldn’t allow myself to imagine anything else. Needless to say, many times it was not an umbrella.

My first year in university, a man with his pants down used to scream out offensive stuff just by our university, on the Varazis khevi hill, by the zoo. He stood there, with dick in his hand, everyday. How he did not catch cold is beyond me. My friend complained that since there are no houses on that hill, no local boys could protect their territory from this man. Everyday, I pretended that I did not notice how he called me slut and exposed himself. During our daily complaining session (truth to be told, this pantless man provided us with stuff to talk about), one of the girls told us: “oh that guy! When I pass him, I throw rocks at him and he hides in the bushes!”. That’s how I learned that most of those sick men would disappear at the slightest confrontation.

I can tell you many stories like that. So what? You would say that those men are just sick people and that every county has them? But that is only half of the problem isn’t it? The worst thing is that teenage girls get so lost during this encounters, they either become mute or try to convince themselves that nothing happened. And no one ever tells them or teaches them what to do in such situation.

I mean really, imagine you are this Georgian virgin girl, who maybe hasn’t even kissed a boy and the first penis you see in your life is this gross penis of a gross man in a gross underground passage! One might develop penis phobia…I probably shouldn’t go there…

Everybody knows what I am talking about, but mo one dares to admit that they have been exposed to other men’s penises, cause they feel guilty!

And you, you big-bellied, hairy-shouldered, cheating-with-the-prostitutes but drinking-for-respecting-women guy, you claim that there is no sexual harassment in this country! I hope one day you’ll have to take a bus and when you look around, you will see that the umbrella that has been poking you for 15 minutes, is really not an umbrella at all!

the pic: our gray umbrella.

Another Brick in the F...n Wall

When I look out of the window at work, I see brick wall. It is discouraging. I look out to get distracted and can’t find anything to see.

Very often I feel like I am surrounded by brick walls. I get angry, I get upset, but I can’t change anything.

I am gradually loosing skills that I have listed in CV. It is getting harder to analyze, I am less passionate about my work, my leadership abilities are gone out of the window. Most of the days I focus on finishing short-term tasks and feel lucky if I cross items on a to-do list and at the same time, eat lunch and go home on time. Most of the days, five-minute tea is a luxury and an hour-long lunch—fantasy.

I can’t deal with ignorance, ambiguity, disrespect, total apathy. I can’t anymore. I feel that I am becoming ignorant, ambiguous, apathetic. Like this post--unfocused and all over the place.

Collaboration, partnership, those terms are unknown to us, at work and at home. I am lucky to have a safe refuge at home. I am very lucky.

Brick walls are everywhere and no one wants to help, no one cares. Everybody strictly does what they have to; they are busy, they are afraid. And if they cared, wanted, needed, now they just try to get through the day.

What? Am I exaggerating? When was the last time you felt thrilled, when you felt like you have accomplished something important?

I have discovered that for a while now, I care less about the issue that I am working to improve. I became used to it. I see the whole picture now and I have two choices: either I stop worrying about it and care less or I ruin my cardiovascular system.

So, you keep on going with no results. And the only thing you can see from your window is a brick wall.

Can this post get more pathetic? Oh, but it can! Check out the view from my window on the pic!

My Vice: Reality of the Reality Shows

We are behind in many things, but one of them is of imperative importance: we could never have Real Housewives of Tbilisi! For those of you who don’t know what I am talking about, it is one of those shows that nobody admits watching. There are multiple franchises of this reality show, including real housewives of Orange County, Beverly Hills, New Jersey, New York, Atlanta and Miami. They feature a bunch of rich, usually mindless women, spending lots of money and quarelling with each other. It makes me endlessly happy to watch them fight; every time I want to buy something ridiculous and I can’t, it gives me comfort, knowing that they can buy everything they want, but they are still stupid. Plus, they all look like aliens, with fake boobs and botoxed foreheads.

One could ask why couldn’t we film Real Housewives of Tbilisi, is it because Tbilisi doesn’t have its own collection of dumb, rich ladies? No, my friends, but I can’t imagine some businessman allowing his wife to flaunt her spending habits like that. That would guarantee Big Brother inspecting your accounts.

Reality shows feed my soul. They provide everything I need. Real Housewives make me feel good about myself; my recent addiction, 11 seasons of The Apprentice, inspires me. Oh, to watch a hair-challenged Donald Trump, giving contestants business tasks and firing loosers... Last night, I caught myself thinking: if they can pull this off, surely I can pesture my boss for that signature! I will not give up, Mr. Trump, please don’t fire me! I have so much strength and dedication!

We had something like that here, but it turned out to be lame. Cause really, nothing trumps Trump (sorry I had to make this joke).

Reality shows educate me. For 5 years now, I’ve been devouring every season of Heide Klum’s “Project Runway”. Jokes aside, it is really a good show. 12 desingners make interesting outfits and tasks are usually exiting and challenging. I've seen people design cocktail dresses from candy wraps, I’ve seen avangarde fashion and drag queen costumes, I now know that Michael Cors, the guest judge, likes to look like an orange…he tans a lot. The final three contestants show their collections on NY fashion week.

Why couldn't we have this show here? Maybe because Lali Totikashvili (who is a sweet lady) is not Haide Klum. Because neither Georgian, nor Tbilisi Fashion week is the NY fashion week. Because we wouldn’t have enough aspiring designers for more than one season. And because Avto Tskvitinidze, no matter his success, is not as orange as Michael Cors.

My fav. Reality show, Top Chef, introduced me to food I would never try before. I know what Foie gras looks (and spells) like. I know that ceviche is fish that gets cooked in acid, with no heat needed. This show inspires me to make risotto the right way. Also... it makes me very hungry.

We wouldn’t have Top Chef in Georgia…well, because we don’t have chefs here. I can’t imagine Khinkali-themed Top Chef.

So basically, we suck. Cause all we can do is sing and dance and all of our reality shows are about that. And it gets repetitive!

P.S. I am breaking tradition of posting only the pics that I (and hubby) take to share this beautiful man with the humanity... this is Curtis Stone, a celebrity chef. Has been on The Celebrity Apprentice and hosts Top Chef Masters. He is all I love about reality show contestant--has some skill, is hot, is confident, and I don't normally like him. Really, I hate smug blond guys with blues eyes and gel-spiked hair. But there is something about this one...