Hotel Kopala

This guy managed to plan a surprise outing to a classy place on a certain somebody's recent birthday.

With cloth napkins and lots of breakable material, the girls were on their best behavior.

Towering at the top of a muli-tiered balcony, we had amazing views.

And despite the grey day,

we were all in bright spirits.

The food was beyond description, perfection. I only captured a photo of the Shashlik, the skewered meat that came sizzling in it's own fire.

Though we didn't escape the usual hair-pulling shenanigans,

it was a lovely, intimate, and memorable birthday.

Good News Indeed

Our shipment of household effects arrived, what a happy day! It's like seeing old friends again. And in just under two months, it's a timely arrival.

Our once-barren home is now filled with clutter galore, but it's a welcome (temporary) change from the unclaimed space that was utterly devoid of personality. We hope to take what for the present feels like a big European hotel, and make it cozy, warm, and full of life.

"Mom, take a picture of me like this."

There's a little something for everyone in the shipment. Even Grandma will be proud to see that our burgeoning fashionista didn't yet lose that blue eyeshadow stocking stuffer.

It's my party and I'll . . .

For my birthday, my 6 year old shows me how to use the photo features on my ipad.

Feeling happy and discombobulated.

Mtskheta

It's just like those Georgians to start a city with five consecutive consonants. With remains found dating back to 1000 BC, Mtskheta is one of Georgia's oldest cities. This is the site where, in 317 AD (or possibly 324, or 330, depending on whom you ask), Christianity became the official religion of Georgia. The headquarters of the Georgian Orthodox Church has been here ever since.

We looked down on the city from the Jvari Monastery, built in the 6th century. The monastery has been a popular destination for Christian pilgrims for centuries and is now considered a UNESCO World Heritage Site, as is the Cathedral below.

This is Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, the central feature of Mtskheta, seen from down in the valley. You can see the Jvari Monastery on top of the hill in the background.

Inside Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, this sunbeamed pillar marks the burial spot of Sidonia. Our driver (DT) shared the following story with us almost verbatim, albeit in broken English.

"According to Georgian hagiography*, in the 1st century AD a Georgian Jew from Mtskheta named Elias was in Jerusalem when Jesus was crucified. Elias bought Jesus' robe from a Roman soldier at Golgotha and brought it back to Georgia. Returning to his native city, he was met by his sister Sidonia who upon touching the robe immediately died from the emotions engendered by the sacred object. The robe could not be removed from her grasp, so she was buried with it. The place where Sidonia is buried with Christ's robe is preserved in the Cathedral." (Wikipedia)

*DT definitely didn't say "hagiography"

 The lofty interior space is punctuated with an enormous golden chandelier.

 This nifty design formed a border lining the entrance to the Cathedral.

 DT and little guy found the outside more stimulating than the interior.

Our excursion worked up an appetite for some traditional Georgian fare. DT said when food is this good, "I eat and cry at the same time". I believe we all shed a tear.

Eliava Market

 I was in need of measuring tape with both inches and centimeters, a few nightlights, some wire, and a lamp shade. Where could I find such a one-stop shop? Eliava Market. It's kind of like a giant Home Depot, flea-market style. It spreads out over several acres, and when it comes to building tools/supplies/paraphernalia/curios, if it exists, you will find it here.

 Something old, something new, something borrowed, something grey-blue? This place has it's own sort of flair.

 Some of these carefully displayed stalls put surrounding produce markets to shame.

 No citrus fruits were ever stacked so perfectly high.

 And don't think this place is lacking in color . . .

 . . . they'll mix you up your own custom-shade of paint.

But, truth be told, by American standards most of the place was either over or understuffed, tacky, ramshackle, and totally disorganized. But it was great fun. The baby loved it. And our driver seemed to know someone around every corner of the endless rows of vendor stalls. It was a fantastic outing, and I found everything I was looking for. Except the lampshade, I think I'll order that online.

Carnivale

Parents of students gathered on every level of the central atrium at the girls' school to celebrate Carnivale with a costume parade.

The procession started on the top level and snaked it's way down to the bottom.

Some classes chose their dress individually,

others went with a theme.

Parents had to be quick to catch a glimpse before the children continued on. A tribal drumbeat filled the air, and the children sang "Bamba li bamba" all the way down.

There awaited treats, more music, dancing (for the brave),

friends, secrets,

and family.

The Metro

Tbilisi is a good-sized city, it boasts a population of about 1.5 million, which is comparable to the Salt Lake City metropolitan area (they also have similar topography: nestled in a mountain valley and stretching long from end to end). Maybe not quite big enough to warrant an extensive underground metro system, but it was endowed nonetheless, a fortunate vestige of Communism. During the Soviet Union, Tbilisi was considered the fourth most important city, after Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Kiev. The metros were buried deep in the ground, purportedly to be used as bomb shelters, and they have the longest escalators I've ever seen.

This unintentionally crooked picture captures the feeling of vertigo I experienced on the endless ascent.

Husband feeling concern for dizzy wife.

I've been on some shady metros in my time, but this was not one of them. Their trains are clean and maintained, the stops are spacious and well-lit, and the price is right (50 tetris, or 30 cents a ride).

And although I feel like I stand out as the only blonde in sight (an aspect that perhaps warrants it's own blog post), the people are respectful and, frankly, civilized. Georgia is not a wealthy country, but the people are proud; the ones I've seen on the metro are always well-groomed. And they wear a lot of black.

The cavernous ceilings and hard surfaces provide a great musical venue. This guy had a full house utterly silent awaiting the train, as if spellbound, while he filled the space with a soaring mournful song.

Home Sick

I guess I should consider myself lucky that it hasn't happened until now, but for the first time ever in our family, all three children fell sick at the same time. First the baby's cheeks were looking flushed, then I got the call from the school nurse: both girls were in the infirmary with temperatures.

When I went to pick them up, I had yet another "we're not in Kansas anymore" moment. The school nurse, after showing me the girls' inflamed throats with a popsicle stick, handed me a piece of paper with what was essentially a prescription for medication, including 3 substances, a description of their application, and notably not including any sort of doctor's signature. I asked her how I should obtain said medicine, and she said just go to any pharmacy and they'll sell it to you. This included two antibiotic substances, I might add, that surely would require a doctor's signature in the States. I guess she is a nurse, but this kind of treatment is new to me. In the litigation-happy culture where I'm from, most school nurses wouldn't so much as touch a recommendation for treatment with a ten-foot pole, much less diagnose an illness and prescribe medication.

For better or worse we got the meds and they seem to be doing the trick. It's all quite different but we're rolling with it. Looks like we get a three-day weekend.

The girls were showing me how lousy they felt with their faces whilst creating a toy pony obstacle course, when at the last moment the baby burst onto the scene, and a nanosecond later the lovely tower was felled.

Later they were able to find an activity they could all agree on: rearranging furniture and creating a general disarray.

Gainfully Employed

Modern jerry-rigging; my simple phone isn't set up for email, hence a picture of a picture.

From the look of the picture I claim to have become a chef, but no, this is simply the first lunch of which I partook at my new place of employment. And believe it or not, this is a school lunch. It's a far cry from the mass-produced, reconstituted, reheated fare on rectangular-shaped plates I was served as a child. This was delicious. And my children enjoyed it too.

I started work teaching English classes at my daughters' school--my first work out of home in nearly 8 years--and it's an ideal arrangement. I only teach a few hours a week, so I'm away from the baby mostly during nap time. It's just enough of an outing to curb the isolation, and I'm meeting lots of new people in an environment where I can communicate. Did I mention it's a French school? So it's helping to polish up my French.

And the children are adorable. Most of them already speak French and Georgian, but I meet other parents every day who easily speak four or five languages. Definitely encourages me to aspire to a couple additional languages myself. This position creates a triad of support I've been able to draw from here: The American community, my Church congregation, and now the parents, teachers, and friends at the School.

love my friends!

I'm smiling. Thanks ladies! That really made my weekend. I don't think I'll soon find another group of such fun, smart, accomplished, beautiful, capable, inclusive, genuine, loving, and cool girlfriends. I will always be grateful for the supportive sendoff you (and all the other wonderful ladies who didn't make it on the video) gave us. And you all better be there when we move back! ;)

Individuality trumps conformity

At first these buildings were mere tacky eyesores on my horizon, until one day I finally looked at them, and I haven't taken my eyes off since. I find the colors, the ingenuity, and the unintentional creative expression fascinating.

 

 To think that at one point, decades ago, every window and every balcony was exactly the same; and now, you couldn't make these balconies more different if you tried.

Each window tells a story, every family builds to suit their needs. It has the opposite effect on me from a pristine, perfectly uniform suburban highrise, which always leaves me feeling strangely anxious.

Even laundry can be a defining feature. The variety is endless, uniformity is nonexistent. Something about this feels so good to me, I find it beautiful and feel freed from my compulsive need for tidy edges and matching sides.

Mad Skillz

Such a happy boy. He doesn't walk yet, but he can maneuver up and down our massive front staircase like a pro. He can also slide off beds & couches and land on his feet. Warms this motherly heart.