The Sea, Sand and Sun

Every time I’m flying back to Georgia, I become unusually anti-social, I sit outside the gate and pretend I am not Georgian. Last weekend, when I was flying from Turkey, I realized that I am unfair to my fellow passengers—they are as loud and as obnoxious, as any other travelers. I just resent coming back and they are part of home that I try to ignore, prolonging my last minutes abroad.
I like my life in Tbilisi and I am pretty fortunate to have a nice home, hubby and cat. But when I get out, I get used to little things that we lack here. Of course, I go as a tourist, I see the best of the country, I relax, I eat good food and do fun stuff and thus returning would be hard anyway, no matter where I’d live. But it is harder, when a country has so little to offer to comfort you.
I just spend a week on Aegean shore. I lived in a clean room, with white towels and comfortable beds, shower and a bathroom––with lukewarm water, but whatever. We had a spectacular view. We had an open buffet breakfast, lunch and dinner. Our all--inclusive hotel provided free drinks. And it did not cost much. In fact, if you take away travelling expanses, it is cheaper to stay in Turkey than in Batumi.
Anyway, usually we skipped the pool and went to the sea, blue, clear, transparent sea! And Bodrum is not Batumi, so we got a free beach bed, I starfished on it, put my face in the sun and listened to the waves… and among the idyllic surroundings… breasts. Elderly German and English ladies sunbathed topless and my hubby declared: “some things you can’t un-see” .He was haunted by their sight most of our beach time.
People were very nice, service was excellent, we got lots of deals. Tourism in Turkey is thriving, tourist agencies compete with each other, they try to offer costumers better deals. For example, we purchased a trip to Pamukkale (beautiful place with natural white pools of blue water and ancient city with ruins) and the travel agency sent us to Turkish bath for free and gave us a free pass to a club “Catamaran”.
Now that is a story on its own. Club “Catamaran” is a big boat with bars, lasers, good DJ, half-naked go-go girls and boys, clubbing/dancing/lounging necessities and even a transparent dance floor—you can see the sea when you dance. It takes off 1 A.M. sails into the open sea. We partied until 5 A.m. It was the coolest, craziest night of our stay there.
Our vacation was just wonderful. We were treated very well. And this is why it is double hard to return to reality. I don’t hate my country. But I don’t feel like a valued person here. Yesterday, I went up Marjanishvili Street, where lots of cake bakeries are located. Around 10 of them, side to side. I went into one of the shops and could not get information about the cakes, because this stupid woman was talking on the phone, explaining how to make some boiled meat dish and not paying any attention to her costumer. Finally, after I said that I will leave and walk into any of the surrounding bakeries to get similar cake, she put her phone aside and assisted me with “I am so annoyed” face.
So yes, I would rather be on a vacation in a nice hotel with a sea view than spend my time working and taking crap from cake sellers.
P.S. town of Gumbet and the gulf, where we stayed.

PIK blog

Hey Friends!
I have started another blog about nothing on the PIK (First Informational Caucasus channel) website. It is kinda big deal for me, so I will appreciate your support, please visit and read. I will post there twice a month. I really like other PIK blogs as well, way better than my blabbering.
Anyway, that is an official web-site of an official news channel, so I am happy :-)
I don't know if I can write two meaningless blogs at the same time, but i don;t want to re-post stuff from here to there. Plus, I can't swear there.
Thanx!!
check it out: http://pik.tv/en/experts/story/19117-the-curse-of-the-ancestors-thou-shalt-die-of-boredom-and-supras/

No Bamba for the Young Girl

Tbilisi is getting way too fashion forward for me, I don’t know what to do; maybe I should move somewhere more appropriate for my taste level? Apparently I am not good enough for this city, maybe I should change my style and start wearing outdated leggings and sparkly shirts of last season to fit in?
Bitter much?
Yes, I am bitter because some asshole at Bamba Room decided that I was not worthy of entering the holy ground of that lounge! Here’s the story: bunch of us decided to go dancing, we couldn’t think of somewhere else to go, I was reluctant to go to Bamba—coz it sucks!—but I decided to follow the majority and I even changed into a clubbing outfit before I left. My hubby wore cool shirt with a DJ Yoda on it, Yoda with headphones and huge glasses and I opted for nice silk floral shirt, Sella accessories and Gap jeans. Why am I naming brands? Cause I was wearing the good-quality-but-not-too-expensive-young-and-not-overdressed ensemble, which is what, in my humble opinion kids should wear to a place like Bamba. I don’t own a Channel dress, but if I had one, I would never wear it to Bamba Room, cause the place is outdated, hosts bunch of drunken teenagers and is has lost its freshness and trendiness for some time now. Furthermore, when I go dancing Saturday night, I don’t want to wear something too nice, because it might get burned by a cigarette or stained by a drink, and I have already ruined pair of excellent shoes from Italy, when I was dancing in high heels last summer.
Anyway, apparently leggings is a must to enter this lounge, or you can substitute it with a cheap glittery dress, but people in denim are deemed offensive. What drove me absolutely crazy is that other people with jeans passed face control, so apparently it was not the jeans, but me. I was not drunk, I was causing no trouble, my hair was combed, my nails-done, so what the fuck satisfies their criteria is unknown. My hubby tried to pass face control just for fun, but he was turned down too.
We left the place and walked to New Gallery which is on the street I forgot…it is very easy to find, once you pass “Garderobe” and “Khareba Winery” on the Macdonald’s end of the Rustaveli Av., there is a turn that leads to Art Academy, the lounge is on the second floor, you can see people dancing even from Rustaveli. It is a cool place, with very good DJ’s. We were met by bunch of experienced clubbers who made fun of us not passing the face control and saying it serves us right for going to Bamba.
My hubby made fun of me for making such a big deal of it, but it hurt on some weird level to be rejected by a place you regard as crappy. Something along the lines of:”if even places like Bamba turn me down, I should really suck”.
So I decided to use this blog post as a cheap revenge. Know all that if you go to Bamba Room, you might not make it in for unknown reasons, hence avoid it.
P.S. the outfit not approved by the fashion police in Bamba Room. Silk is tricky to photograph, the shirt has flowers on it in real life :-)

German Tourists in Georgia: Homophobia in Its Grandeur

Once again news fail to cover an important incident, though everybody is savoring rumors. Two gay German toursists were thrown into the river.
Rumor has it, that two tourists explored mountains and met some Georgians from Tbilisi, who rushed to prove our famed hospitality and made a big “supra” for them. They drank together for several hours, finally approaching the love toast to which the tourists responded with a kiss. Seeing this, hosts sprang to their feet, beat the couple, tied them up and threw them into the river. Poor Germans were finally fished out by locals down the river. They left the country immediately and this case was not reported to the police.
I want to scream and shout, but so far everyone I talk to keeps saying the same thing: didn’t these tourists see it coming?
Let’s put aside the fact whether or not it is justified to drown gays who know they shouldn’t kiss in public and still do so, the mountain culture has its traditions and David the Builder and so on, and let’s discuss the following question: didn’t they see it coming? And somehow, I think that the answer is “no”—otherwise these two willingly embarked on a suicide mission.
May I state that this indecisive stance is the worst problem in Georgia? This hypocrisy, falsehood, double and triple standards?
Let’s decide who we want to be, what our values are, let’s finally draft our moral code and create a corresponding legislature! Let’s stop lying to ourselves!
How where those guys supposed to know that their kissing would result in Lynching unless they already had friends in Georgia? Is our legislature prohibiting gay relations in Georgia? Does it claim that Georgia discriminates against basic human right and that those who violate them will be punished? Is any information available about Georgians’ views on homosexuality? Which tourist website gives any relevant informative about how to be culturally sensitive in Georgia? That you should not sneeze without covering your mouth, that you shouldn’t make moves on your friend’s sister, that you should not flirt in bars with unknown men? Is there any document anywhere on the web that would explain Georgian culture beyond our “hospitality”, “respect for the guests”, “beautiful nature” and “good food and wine”? How long can we force feed these Soviet-originated myths to the world?
People have been arguing that by using common sense, these men could’ve figured out the rules of conduct in a conservative chirstian country. One might argue that Italy is also a christian country, but two months ago my friend attened huge gay pride in Rome and this month his is flying to the biggest LGBT event of this year in Milan – so, sorry, but country’s religious background is not enough to make assumptions about the everyday culture.
There should be some information available on what is offensive and with the exception of one-year old TLG blogs, there is none on the web!
Let’s stop this once and for all. Why do we have a kinda liberal legislature, the majority of the population is conservative? We are striving towards EU and NATO cause we believe that’s the way to economic prosperity. Why isn’t anybody explaining to us, to the society, that EU and NATO integration means not only change of legislature but also change in attitudes, a new set of values?
I am sick and tired of this dichotomy. Either have the balls to declare: yes, we are homophobic, xenophobic, patriarchal, theologian society and stick to it, defend your values and have corresponding legislature, or install democratic values through law enforcement, education and gradual change of attitudes. And stop lying! Georgia is not a democratic country and Georgians are not democratic people! Democratic people do not throw tourists in the river no matter how offended they feel! And maybe, if we say the truth for change, if we stopped pretending, maybe those tourists will choose to go somewhere else and 1. Georgians will keep on driniking un-offended 2. German tourists will avoid getting drown in the river.
Damn it, they deserve to know where they are going and we deserve to know where we are living!
P.S. Tired of arguing with people, I tried finding info by googling “gay-friendly tbilisi” and “homophobia in tbilisi” to see red flags. Unfortunately, it takes a long a nd rigid search to make any sense of the info, cause many web-sites keep siting Georgian legislature and openess comapred to the rest of the region. You can find negative info, but you really have to look. Generally, there is just absence of info, negative or positive.
P.S.S. Phallic symbols in Tbilisi. Stole my hubby’s pic.

Racha My Love

Last week I went to Racha for the second time. Visiting Racha is way more exiting than sitting by the comp all day and I tried to squeeze small hikes between work meetings.
If you have 3 free days, I would definitely recommend going to Oni in Racha. The nature there is spectacular, you can go on seven-hour hikes or you can walk around on paved road and look at the mountains from the distance—it is still breathtaking.
The second reason to visit Racha is the place where I stayed—guest house called "Gallery" or "Artist's House". I loved everything about it, the hostess is a graduate of Tbilisi Art Academy and the host carves wood. Everything in their house is handmade—all the furniture, including beds, tables, windows, doors, balcony ornaments are carved by the host and all the pictures, lampshades, cool decorations are created by the hostess.
Also, they are the only pair of entrepreneurs I have seen in Georgia. In a true sense of the word. They took a loan, built the hotel (most of it is built by the host and his son, they did not have money to hire workers), and equipped it with stuff like sun batteries and showers in every room, which, for anyone who’s been to a Georgian village sounds like revolutionary renovations. The hostess only cooks organic food and does not use anything produced chemically (she even makes own spices from herbs she grows in her garden, not even buying store vanilla).
Oni still has Georgian village vibe in it, people are not yet spoiled by the tourists, when you walk down the street everybody greets you, the whole town knows each other, people are friendly in a little-Georgian-town kind of a way.
Another interesting fact is that Oni used to shelter many Jewish families that have now moved to Israel (they still keep in touch with the locals and often visit) and there is 18-th century synagogue, which contains old books, you take them, you open them and you marvel…
The hotel hosts know a lot about Racha, they can tell you the history, show you the map, show some unique things they have found in the mountains—1,000 year-old arrowheads, million-year old fossil prints, minerals, gold…they can take you to a deep, never-explored cave, where you can look for these treasures yourself.
The roads are recently reconstructed and once you pass Terjola, the scenic views are breathtaking.
Racha is also homeland of the most famous Georgian wine in the Soviet Union—Khvanchkara.
The only negative side of Racha travel is marshrutka availability. There is only one marshrutka going to or from Oni and it leaves at 8 A.M. And you have to get to the station earlier or you won’t find a seat. Marshrutka leaves from Okriba station in Didube in Tbilisi and at the central “plaza” in Oni—not that it matters, cause anything in Oni is in 10 minutes walking distance.
Now that I have written a little tourist advertisement, you just have to pack your stuff and check the place out, especially if you have never been there!
P.S. For those who don’t know: “Racha my Love” is a famous Georgian musicale
P.S.S. the pics: The mountains--what Racha looks like; the room where we ate at the hotel—everything you see in created by the hosts.

Fear of Falling

We bought a bicycle. My hubby rides it up and down the Kavtaradze and even plans to replace marshrutkas with this new machine—his work in not too far from our house. I, on the other hand, first rode a bike 4 years ago. First time, My brother showed me how to do it, but forgot to mention brakes. So I deliberately ran into our neighbors’ bushes—I had to stop somehow. Neighbors were not happy, nor was the bike…
Afterwards, I would ride the bike down the hill in my neighborhood in Denver (first I would walk up), trying not to turn left or right, cause turning meant falling. Quiet suburbia, no cars, straight nice road…
Then Giga forced me to ride a bike in Budapest. We had to get somewhere and we did not have money, but we had borrowed bikes. First, it was O.K., we followed bike lanes. Then, the bike lane vanished and Giga started peddling on the sidewalk. Imagine, a sidewalk in Budapest, full of tourists, people walking around, me not being able to turn…but the worst part: the cafes on the sidewalks…waiters with plates…I ended up screaming and riding as fast as I could through that café segment, and all the waiters just jumped aside. For the first time I rode in the open, I even managed to avoid hitting people; I became more confident, gained some speed and ran into a tree. I quickly got back into the saddle, and hid this fact from Giga.
Sunday, I rode our new bike (after 3 years of bike abstinence).We found interesting space by the Maglivi bridge—circles and lines, figures on the pavement, painted probably for a driving school, where I can practice turning and not falling off . To get there I either have to ride on a sidewalk, or go with the cars. Irrationally, I find it safer to ride with the cars (you should hear them honking and swearing at me), cause sidewalk scares me to death—I think that I won’t be able to ride in the narrow space and that I will slide off into the traffic. So I prefer to ride with the traffic. Go figure.
I was riding there quietly yesterday, minding my own business, drawing number 8 with my bike for a 100th time, when two dudes with flashlights appeared. They looked like security guards, only what could they be guarding there--the bridge?! As a result of our latest addiction, AMC series Breaking Bad, Giga proposed that they protected a meth lab... Either way, I finally got tired of them watching my butt on the bike and tried riding around house, until I ran over a bump successfully—then it hit me, on no, I ran over a bump!—and lost control and went flying off the bike.
We’ll see what the future holds for me, I am annoyed that I can’t do this thing, I miss younger me, who was much more daring and climbed trees and roofs of abandoned buildings. Plus, we are moving to a new territory…stay tuned to hear more…
p.s. Our new bike and me

Bailamos for Free

“I just wanted to see free boobies. But there is no such thing as free boobies, is there, IS THERE?!”-asks the guy who invested some money in amateur porno movie, in the film “Zack and Miri Make a Porno”. I guess I just wanted to see Enriques Iglesias perform, but there is no such thing as a free concert…
So, one way or another, I made it to Batumi on the 2nd. My poor husband accompanied me to protect me from being squeezed to death. We arrived at 5, stood “in line” for two hours and got pretty close to the stage. Frontier was densely packed and I soon found myself between one person’s armpit and another person’s belly. Amongst all the yelling and pushing and a week-old sweat, I was soaked in bodily fluids and rain, hit, squeezed and poked. Yelling swearwords at the organizers of all free concerts (I mean could it be at least 10 Lari to sort out all the people who care less and show up just because it costs nothing?), I asked Giga to take me out of there. I felt like I left part of my dignity there…
We moved away a bit, thus forever loosing opportunity to touch Enrique’s divine legs. Situation towards the center was pretty interesting. I stood by a middle-aged woman who would not let her “children” (four grown-ass girls) attend the concert alone; we saw an older man wrapped in American flag (!); another mother tried to protect her “children” from the immoralities of the concert in front of us. The smell remained, but at least we were not touched.
At 8:30 the concert started. I had to endure Georgian “singers” till 10:30 or so. I have seen better stage presence in my high school drama class! I guess Pop music does not require strong vocals, but shouldn’t they at least move seductively or have memorably beat or something? SOMETHING?
DJ played for 30 minutes while stage was set up for the next performer (that happened three times). Actually, DJ was really nice, but I couldn’t dance, cause every time I put my arms around my husband, the “children’s” mother threw indignant glances in our direction.
I have to note that Georgian Rock band “Eldrine” was like a breath of fresh air, way to go guys!
So finally,
After 5 hours (and 10 years) of waiting,
HE took the stage! I have not listened to Enrique for at least 8 years now. I was not familiar with 3 of his latest albums and I had to look new videos on YouTube to catch up. I found them too sexy (some of it is plain porn!), him too cheesy, his voice over-computerized and I laughed at my teenage self so desperately in love with this dude. But, when he came on that stage, I was screaming like all the sixteen-year old girls around me! He controlled us and manipulated us and did whatever he wanted with us! The moment he heard our screaming levels go down, he would do something to raise them back up—he took one of his shirts off, he talked in Georgian, he struck a pose, he let people touch him, he took photos with his fans, he looked in our eyes!
Damn it, when he took that girl on the stage, I looked around and everyone was crying… every girl felt like she was the one on the stage…and then he kissed her…as my hubby put it “ I have witnessed a collective orgasm”.
The girl got her 15 minutes of fame. She already appeared on TV several times. People made such a big deal out of it. Blogs exploded with comments like “how could he kiss her? No one is going to marry her now!”.
I was sore for a week after that concert. I swore it was the last free concert in my life. And then I thought of my post about Sting…and how I wrote that the audience was boring…and I laughed. What the hell do I want anyway? Why am I always complaining?
So this is what we have: either haute couture celebrities not clapping, or hydrophobic teenagers screaming. First is more pleasant, second is more exiting. As for me, next time I am trying one of those concert tours to Armenia or Turkey, where bunch of friends rent a marshrutka, stay in a cheap hotel and do touristy things in addition to the concert.
P.S. I will post pics in a day or two, my comp is having hard times...