If You Walk Away, I'll Walk Away

The first few weekends of May were pretty uneventful, except for an instance in which I was asked if I would accept money for sex by my friend's host father. That's nothing new, though, as I'm propositioned for things quite often. Usually it's marriage and usually they don't ask, "How much money?" There's a first time for everything.

The end of May, though, has been full of adventures. I've had to say goodbye to two very close friends, Joanne and Pauli, both of whom had things back home to look forward to. Saying goodbye has gotten a bit easier, but I was never a fan of goodbyes and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Unfortunately, because of the sheer number of people I've met since coming to Georgia last August, I've had to say goodbye a lot more than I ever thought possible. Every weekend I meet someone new, then say goodbye to them for the first and last time. It's the nature of traveling, I suppose, to have friendships develop and disappear within the course of a few days.

Anyway, enough about goodbyes. The past two weekends have made me realize just how much I'm going to miss the lifestyle I've built here. My friend, Liis, invited me on a Hash Weekend Camping trip to Lagodekhi Nature Reserve. (I'm not sure if I've mentioned Hash here, but it's a 'drinking club with a running problem' in which people walk/run/hike for an hour or so then drink and party together. Before the camping trip I'd only been once before, but the people I'd met there were fascinating and I was excited to do a full camping trip with them.) I took a day off of school and took a marshrutka to Tbilisi on Thursday, with the intention of heading to the park on Friday afternoon.

Lagodekhi is located about two hours East of Tbilisi, almost to the border with Azerbaijan. We got there Friday evening, set up camp and proceeded to drink and cook dinner. Most of the people who do Hash aren't TLG teachers like Liis and me, they're just expats living in Tbilisi who like to get together and drink and talk. It's a lot of fun, if only because there are so many countries represented: Germany, Georgia, Turkey, Estonia, Sweden, England, Scotland, Canada, America. Those are only the ones that were represented on the camping trip (that I can remember, at least).

Our campsite from the woods where we washed in the stream and used the toilet.

The next morning was our hike to the big waterfall. It's a 5 km hike that takes about two hours and is fairly difficult. We had a couple people with babies and a couple people who just weren't up for the hike, so we lost a few along the way when they would give up and go back to camp to drink and sit around the fire.

The water level of the river was quite high because of melting snow.

On the way back there was a bit of an adventure for myself and two other girls. At the waterfall the brave among us swam and the water was icy cold, so afterward we all did a shot of chacha (homemade vodka) to warm ourselves up before the hike back. I was slow getting dressed, so I ended up being in the last group to set out. I was with two women I don't know very well, one of whom was about my size and the other a lot smaller. The smaller of the two didn't partake in the chacha drinking, but she also wasn't a very good hiker so we were pretty slow going. I had to help her over a lot of the more difficult climbs (at some points you couldn't see any set 'trail' because it was just scrambling over rocks/roots).

The waterfall. The big pool you can see above the wide lower falls is where a few of us were brave enough to swim. It was COLD.

The other woman did partake in chacha. In fact, she partook a little too much and ended up becoming so intoxicated that the two sober ones had to take her on either side and walk her back. The hike wasn't easy sober and it was even more difficult trying to drag a woman with you. Add to that a 20 minute thunderstorm, rising water, inability to wear glasses due to the rain, slippery rocks and unclear trails and you've got yourself a challenge. We didn't get back to camp until an hour and a half after everyone else. My legs were covered in cuts from the brambles (at many points the trail wasn't wide enough for three, so I walked forward with the woman who was drunk and at times had to stumble through the brambles because that way she would get the easier trail to walk on) and I was bleeding down my legs. When we walked back into camp everyone thought I'd injured myself badly, but once they realized that my companion was drunk there was a flurry of activity: I was given a beer and set up near the fire to warm up (I was only wearing a tank top and shorts and the rain had been quite cold, so I was freezing despite the exercise), my drunk companion was taken away to be changed and put to bed and my sober companion was given coffee and set up next to the fire with me.

Our campsite had snow-capped peaks behind it and a view of an enormous valley in front of it. The man who owns this land is a lucky, lucky man.

After we'd all changed and warmed up, we had our Hash circle. I figured something was going on when four of the men were all standing together and I heard my name, so I wasn't surprised when, during the 'baptism' time, I was skipped over with the bag of flour. 'Baptisms' in Hash mean that you get a Hash Name, everyone pours a handful of flour over you, you drink out of a metal pot and everyone sings a drinking song. Because I had carried the girl all the way back 5 km in the rain and sort of made a spectacle of myself, I was given the name, "Saving Private Ryan."

Covered in flour post-'Baptism'.

Once Hash Circle was over, we all made dinner and hung out chatting and drinking until we were too tired to stay awake. The next day we made a short hike to the river where we acted like children and threw rocks into the water to get each other wet. We left the same day, after a lunch with an amazing view of the valley.

Okay, this certainly isn't the view of the valley we had from our campsite. Rather, it's a view of a good portion of Tbilisi. After the camping trip I stayed in Tbilisi for the evening. I asked Liis if there was a bar/restaurant where we could sit with a view of the city. Luckily for us, we ran into a friend of hers, Ted, who is living in the apartment where this picture was taken. Talk about a view.

The following weekend Liis got me signed up for a Ministry Excursion to Vardzia, which is a cave monastery and city located in South Western Georgia. We had Thursday off and the trip was on Friday, so I once again headed into Tbilisi for a long weekend. We left early Friday morning and took a marshrutka from Tbilisi to Vardzia, stopping twice along the way.

The first stop was at the Green Monastery, so-named because of the green surroundings (not so creative). The Monastery was once quite large, but due to its proximity to the Turkish border, there was a mass slaughter of everyone living at the monastery. Our tour guide told us that the small stream that ran next to the monastery supposedly ran with blood after the massacre and that is why some of the rocks are still red to this day.

These skulls were found on the premises of the Green Monastery. They are said to belong to the people who were slaughtered by the Turks.

After the Green Monastery we stopped off at one of the most well-preserved fortresses in Georgia. It was called Khertvisi and I learned a nice fun fact: apparently the mortar was made with eggs! The surrounding villagers each had to provide 50 or 100 eggs and they supposedly built the fortress using those eggs. We weren't able to go up into the fortress, because Vardzia was our main stop, but we did get to have a bit of fun with a bridge below the fortress.

Khertvisi: the fortress made of eggs. I didn't ask, but I wonder: did it smell like rotten eggs when it was first built?

Most of our time at the site of the fortress was spent jumping up and down on this bridge trying to scare each other.

Finally we got to Vardzia, which turned out to be just as incredible as I had expected. We walked through most of the caves. We were actually at the Father Monastery, which is where the monks slept, while there's another Vardzia which was the Mother Monastery, where the nuns slept. The entire cave system at the Father Monastery was once 15 stories high and could house 50,000 people and their animals. In 1283, however, there were two major earthquakes which destroyed most of the cave system. Apparently, before the earthquakes you couldn't even see that there was a place there and it was only after the earthquakes that it was revealed and you could see the entrances to the caves.

The bells located outside of the church which was built inside one of the caves at Vardzia.

There were quite a few little holes here and there within the caves in which you could see into other chambers. I assume these were used for light during the time when the caves were entirely hidden from the world but for a few holes for sunlight.

The monastery was founded by Queen Tamar, who was actually a King and not a Queen. What this means is that her father named her King instead of Queen because he couldn't accept that she wasn't a boy. Kind of depressing, but Tamar turned out to be a pretty awesome lady. She was one of the strongest Kings of Georgia and she actually divorced her first husband because he was too weak! Considering we're talking 12th century Georgia, that divorce was pretty impressive.

A few times we had to go up or down some seriously scary stairs. (Alliteration!)

There's a cool story that goes along with the name Vardzia, as well. Apparently Tamar was wandering the caves and her uncle couldn't find her. He was yelling her name to find her because he could hear that she was frightened and crying, and he finally heard her yell, "Aq var dzia." Which translates to, "Here I am, uncle!" So, they named the monastery Vardzia, "I am, uncle!"

Vardzia

All in all the past week and a half has been pretty insane. I've gone all over the country and made the drive between my village and Tbilisi 4 times. The next few weeks are going to fly, as I only have two weeks left of school. I'm ready for school to be over and I know my kids are, too. It's going to be tough saying my goodbyes to them, no doubt about that, but I think it's definitely time for me to move on to the next adventure.