Sameba

As part of our Tbilisi circuit, we visited Sameba on Easter Sunday. More formally known as the Holy Trinity Cathedral of Tbilisi (Sameba is Georgian for Trinity), it was completed less than 10 years ago. The style of construction is similar to traditional Georgian monasteries but on a more grandiose scale. At night it is beautifully lit and can be seen from all around town. (Unfortunately I had no camera on this day, so thanks to K. for the pictures.)

The central domed-cavity of the structure is massive, one of the largest Eastern Orthodox cathedrals in the world; the children were captivated by the wide open epic space. We attempted to rein them in, but found greater success outdoors.

On the front steps we encountered some Coptic Christians visiting from Egypt. They insisted on taking a picture with our rambunctious kids. They were very kind.

It was a bright and windy day--beautiful--but maybe not the best for convincing children to pose for pictures.

The Orthodox Easter falls about a month after our own this year, so perhaps we'll return in May to witness their annual observance.

a great day

In one fantastic day, both our car AND our favorite friends from the States arrived. It was as if no time had passed (7 months had, in fact), and the kids didn't waste any time getting back to normal.

In addition to showing them around Tbilisi, we also showed them around our backyard.

Our Easter egg hunt was afforded gorgeous sunny weather,

which coaxed a few more spring blossoms to burst forth.

The best part was probably the downtime, but we certainly tried to squeeze in as many adventures and meals as possible.

The spoils of the day. It's a funny thing about old friends: when you're together it feels more like reality than whatever else you've been doing for the last span of time. We enjoyed an uncontested best week in Georgia so far. Pictures forthcoming.

Spring

It has been a dismal winter. As one who hails from northern lands, I've always been of the camp that prefers snow in winter--as long as it's cold anyway--in lieu of the dreary grey-brown alternative. Here in Georgia it's all grey buildings, grey sidewalks, and grey skies. The wind howls fiercely, like a living being, and rattles the heavy iron bars on my windows. But we try to focus on the positive.

We've started to see green grass, and a few flowering bulbs give us hope. Other than that spring seems to be taking it's time.

Every morning I find myself checking the tightly wrapped leaf buds, willing them to open. I don't think I've ever been so anxious for spring to bloom.

Entropy

We went for a walking tour of Old Tbilisi, some parts older than others, and when we came to a vacant lot our guide pointed out that there had been a house here that was recently torn down because it was in "poor condition". Across the street from the lot was this beauty.

And we paused to reflect on the definition of "poor condition". As there are families still living in it, it must not yet have been deemed "poor" enough.

All of the remaining, intact, ancient churches we've seen have their foundations built right down to the bedrock, but for some reason they don't seem to do the same for most of the houses. And since this is earthquake country, there are dire consequences. Not sure why the short-sighted workmanship, but it does make for some very interesting, slowly crumbling buildings.

I remember when, in high school science, I first learned about entropy. A part of me has lived in utter terror ever since. When I see this kind of stunning decay, I can almost feel the inevitable degradation of the universe into disorder. In discussing it with my husband, he offhandedly proposed that that is precisely why there must be a spiritual realm.

And a light illuminated in my mind. Yes! It makes sense to me that there must be balance in the universe--yin and yang--of light and dark, infinite and infinitesimal. The unseen spiritual realm of never-ending life in balance with the ever-decaying physical dimension. For the first time in 20 years, my terror was quieted.

Interlude

Many years ago during one of my first experiences living abroad, a wise friend explained the four stages of adjustment: the honeymoon stage (you love everything! the old architecture! the exotic new people! the bread!), the hostile stage (where everything you once loved, you now hate), the grin-and-bear-it stage (finding balance but not settled . . . can last a while), and healthy adjustment (you get the picture). He said you may only go through each stage once, or you may feel like you go through each stage once a day; everyone is different, but the pattern is normal. It has been an enormously helpful point of reference over the years. We've been here over 2 months now, long enough to know what bugs, and I would say I'm firmly planted in the grin-and-bear-it stage.

Don't get me wrong, life is good, but no aspect is left untouched. Everything is different. And many of the changes still don't make sense: in some ways I have less privacy, while at the same time I'm more isolated. In almost every way that I was independent before I am now dependent. From sun-drenched freedom to dark barred windows. From home as a peaceful refuge, to surroundings that are never quiet. From a cozy cramped home to a massive sprawling floorplan. From English to Georgian, and Russian, and French . . . lots of changes. Some good and desirable, others less so. 

I'm not worried that I'll always feel this way. I know things will get better, but for the present I often find myself feeling dully dissatisfied. Surprisingly, I find that the one thing that always turns my mood around is when I focus on nurturing and educating my children. Everything else seems so completely fleeting, like dust. And my children are like an oasis of life, joy, and purpose.

Mtatsminda Park

During spring break we ventured up the mountain to visit Mtatsminda Park, an impressive amusement park that overlooks Tbilisi. In the days of the Soviet Union, Mtatsminda Park was the third most visited public park in the USSR, Gorky Park in Moscow being number one.

As it's off-season, there was only one ride operating, but you can be sure we found it.

Big day for little guy

Saturday Supra

The women's Relief Society at the Avlabari Branch here in Tbilisi had a cooking/eating activity last week. At a typical Georgian Supra (feast) there is usually a toastmaster, copious amounts of wine, and many courses of food. This was a much simpler affair, a sorta supra. That's not Georgian, btw.

 We made these -- very much like deviled eggs, with more spices.

This was the most delicious carrot salad I've ever tasted. They added a secret ingredient, some Georgian spice that I haven't yet found the translation for, that made it irresistible.

This salad was similar but with lightly cooked beets. Also wonderful.

This one was more like what I would call a typical Russian salad, except that it also had mushrooms and crabmeat. It sounds strange putting those things together, but again, delicious.

My friend/interpreter extraordinaire divides up the shoti.

They really know how to cook with fresh seasonal ingredients here. I'm trying to learn the local specialties, because they are much easier to prepare than trying to reproduce American standbys for which the ingredients are unavailable. Luckily these sweet women were more than happy to share their tricks of the trade.

We also had a children's contingent. I would mention that after being unofficially involved in primary since my arrival (having two primary-aged girls) they made it official last week with a calling. Now my formerly-mentioned courageous interpreter and I are also partners in primary.

Until fairly recently there was no primary organized in Georgia, then they started teaching lessons and having activities, and now we're fully correlating with the worldwide Church program: following the official Sharing Time Outline, teaching a new song each month, preparing for a primary program this fall, and teaching the standard lessons on schedule. The kids are good sports about learning some songs in English, and a missionary is translating other primary songs into Georgian for us. We've also kept a tradition they started in the branch here, something that's completely extinct in the stateside Church: an intermediate cookie break. Gotta love being in primary.

Love conquers all

A stunning couple, she sparkles, he glows.

Breaking from my routine Georgian observations to report the first casualty of our American absence: Not long ago we received the sweet news that the last Larson was to wed, and bitter, due to scheduling, finances, and some 7000 miles, we would not be there. For years we've said we'd fly from anywhere to be there when the day came . . . we just never thought we'd be in Georgia.

We spent the day celebrating in our own way: we sent online messages, we frolicked to Nordic wedding music, and we sought the perfect Georgian gift. It was a joyful day, and we received this one picture (above), so now you've seen as much of the wedding as we have.

It started (for us) back in September at another family wedding when a certain brother brought along his girlfriend, a classic "taking things to the next level" move. A family friend had all the Larsons over for a post-wedding dinner, but just prior to beginning, the couple announced their own plans to marry, so it became an impromptu engagement celebration.

 The food was delicious, the company gracious. We mingled and got to know our future sister-in-law.

 With the sun setting behind the mountains, the Larson guys did what they do best.

It was a marvelous evening, little did we know at the time the last we would spend together before our departure. Over the next few months the wedding date proved elusive, until the stars aligned for March 2.

Although we weren't able to attend the ceremony, we are so glad that we could at least meet her, it sweetens the bittersweet. We look forward to a lifetime of happy memories together, and we wish her welcome to our family!