Hot (not literally) New Winter Destination: Georgia!

I probably should have learned my lesson about convincing people to visit me in Georgia in the dead of winter after my parents took their ill-fated trip here last year. But I didn’t. Luckily, when Susi and her friend Anya arrived in Georgia they took their good German weather with them and, unlike my mom and dad, they could actually see the mountains! Success!
Susi actually admitted, and I quote, “it vas one of the best vacations I’ve ever taken. Ja.” Well she actually didn’t say “vas” or “ja”. To add some ethnic flair I like to embellish her impeccable English with more colorful German phrases.
Winter vacation kicked off with a trip to the mountains. Some PCVs and me headed up to Bakuriani, Georgia’s winter wonderland, to celebrate the birth of Christ and try our hand at skiing. Christmas dinner was amazing. I wrangled up some avocadoes in Tbilisi from the only avocado seller in the entire nation and trudged my treasure up with me to Bakuriani. We made our own tortillas from scratch and the salsa and guacamole were mouth watering. Even though we couldn’t go home for Christmas we had a bit of America (via Mexico) in Georgia with us at Christmastime. Turns out I’m not a very good skier and on my third day attempting to ski I was convinced that some other PCVs were tricking me to go on the intermediate slope in order to kill me. They were not and after some fear-induced protest I boned up and made it down an intermediate run.
After Bakuriani I rushed home for a midnight run to the airport and picked up my German visitors. The first order of business on their Georgia itinerary was watching my Christmas concert. The electricity went out an hour prior to the concert so the kids had to perform a cappella. The kiddies still brought the house down at the end of the concert with an impressive political stance in the form of “Merry Christmas, War is Over”. It was very moving. We stayed in Rustavi for a few days and took in the sights in Tbilisi and David Gareji
New year’s is my least favorite holiday in the states but here it is the Georgian equivalent of Christmas. (Blame the communists. New years tree, say what?!) That means, unlike say the multiple St. Giorgi’s days or St. Mary’s days or even Christmas, New Year’s is a big deal in this country. Thus, I thought that the best bet for fun on New Year’s eve would be to hang out with HCNs…and I was right. My host family had a veritable feast when we went to visit them. I’m a bit obsessed with walnuts in this country, and the walnut sauce (baje) they serve on New Year’s is to die for. At midnight everyone started stetting fireworks off their balconies and shooting them at each other. Rustavi was alight. In the iridescent sparklingly light even the drabbest concrete apartment block looked festive and Rustavi looked rather beautiful.
The next morning we hoped on a train bound for Batumi and spent the night there before crossing the border to Turkey. The trip was a bit spur of the moment (mom and dad: sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving the country), and we were traveling on the fly but we did manage to see some fantastic things. Susi and Anya accompanied us on the first leg of the trip to Kars. There we took in the former Armenian capital of Ani. It was fantastic and I was astounded to find out that Armenia had a golden age that rivaled Georgia’s under Queen Tamar (aba what?!). After that Susi and Anya left us to take, what I can only assume was, a miserable bus ride to Istanbul to catch their flight back to Germany. We continued on in Eastern Turkey to Dogubuyazit to take in a Pasha’s palace and see Mt. Ararat where Noah’s ark is famed to have landed. After a night in less than congenial settings in Dogubyazit (think no heat, no sheets, no water, a mouse, and some bizarre conversations concerning the assassination of various political figures) we moved onto Erzurum. There we ate more delicious Turkish food and took in more sites before heading back to Grujistan.
I’m back at site now after an exhausting winter vacation and it’s time to start being a real person again by updating my blog, paying my bills, cleaning my rank apartment, and getting that pesky water heater fixed.
I did learn one very valuable thing from a 17-year-old Turkish girl on my trip that I think we should all ponder and remember: Saddam Hussein is alive. His execution was just a rouse and he is now living at Michael Jackson’s Bahrain Never-never-land estate.

Coming soon: pictures from winter vacation.