Where do I fit in? - translated into Georgian

 saqarTvelo, sad vipovo SenTan Cemi adgili?

Aaxla rodesac gacilebiT meti vici masze, minda ki es namdvilad?

genderuli sakiTxebisadmi tradiciuli damokidebuleba saqarTveloSi jer kidev dominirebs. mSeneblebi Tbilisis erT-erT centralur ubanSi Canda sakmaod garkveulebi iyvnen qalis rolze maT sazogadoebaSi,

“idealuria roca kaci ojaxis Tavi da marCenalia, qali ki ojaxSia da zrunavs masze. esaa swored harmoniuli ojaxi” Tqva erTma.

es ZiriTadad is Tvalsazrisia, romelsac qveynis sakmaod Zlieri eklesia qadagebs. 2012 wlis aprilis erT-erT sakvirao wirvaze Tbilisis MmTavar kaTedralur taZarSi, qarTuli marTlmadidebluri eklesiis meTauri ilia II qadagebda:

“kacs abaria ojaxi da misi rCena, qali ki saxlSi unda elodebodes da daRlil meuRles mosvlisTanave miegebos, fexebi dabanos.”

aq araferi iyo naTqvami qarTul ojaxebSi “ojaxis ufrosis” mier qalebis mimarT ganxorcielebul Zaladobis kargad dokumentirebul maRal maCveneblebze. es sityvebi TiTqosda saqarTveloSi mimdinare qalTa moZraobis aRmavlobis gamo Semokruli glovis zarebia. es moZraoba TandaTan Zalas ikrebs, qalebi cdiloben xma aimaRlon Zaladobaze da maT patriarqalur sazogadoebaSi uflebebis mopovebisaTvis aqtiuroben. mamakacTa da qalTa zemoT naxsenebi aseTi erTi SexedviT sasacilo saqcielis molodiniT xdeba arsebuli genderuli stereotipebis waqezeba, mowoneba da samaradJamod damkvidreba am ojaxuri mona-morCilobis ciklisa *(2). rogorc es gavrcelebul qarTul gamoTqmaSia “qalma unda icodes misi adgili”. . . qalebisaTvis aq dResaviT naTelia maTi adgili da is maTi mamakacebis gverdiT namdvilad araa.

SemiZlia amis mqadageblis pativiscema mas Semdeg rac man qalebisTvis gaimeta? Cemgan es pativiscema zustad igive zomis iqneba rac TviT aqvs mas Cems mimarT. ojaxuri Zaladobis miRebis da misTvis mwvane Suqis anTebis gamo, me ukve aRar maqvs didi survili sadme mainc vipovo aq Cemi adgili. qalTa sruli qedmoxrilobis sakiTxi ar aris unikaluri saqarTvelosTvis. ase, rom vgoneb Rirs Cavixedo cota Rrmad sazogadoebaSi da mis tradiciebSi da iqneb mivagno sad SeiZleba gamovnaxo aq adgili, an movergo.

zogjer Cagecineba adamians ise emTxveva movlenebis wlisTavebi da pirad mtrebTan dakavSirebuli dReebi erTmaneTs. patriarqis es qadageba, TiTqosda sagangaSod Semokruli zarebi, emTxveva saqarTvelosTan Cemi sakuTari piradi urTierTobis dakargvis glovis zarsa da dards. me marTlac mWirdeba imis gaazreba da gageba Tu sad da rogor unda megrZno Tu vigrZno (isev?) Tavi aqaurobis nawilad.

axlaxans davbrundi qarTuli simReris nvirekulida, romelic gaimarTa Sotlandiis mTianeTSi arsebuli findhornis fondSi. aq, findhornis kvireulSi monawileobis misaRebad mowveulebi iyvnen raTa sakuTar Tavze ganecadaT zogs pirvelad, zogs kide Cemi ar iyos meramdened, sixaruli qarTuli simReris Sesrulebisa da aJRerebisas gancdili, TrTola misi bgerebis aTrTolebasTan erTad. Sinagan TrTola-vibrirebasTan dakavSireba sakmaod rTuli saqmea CvenTvis, dasavlelebisaTvis, qarTuli simReris musika swored am saqmes emsaxureba, rac mas unikalurobas aniWebs. Sinagani vibraciis miyuradebiT, moTokviT da am energiis sakuTari “me”sken warmarTviT adamians SeuZlia gaigonos da igrZnos am uzarmazari energiis rezonansi gacilebiT Sors da Rrmad vidre ubralod xmis JReraa, TiTqosda bgerebis bombi afeTqebula am “me”s SigniT. es is tradiciuli midgomaa simReris mimarT, romelsac dasavleTSi viyenebT. es im energiasTan kavSiria, romelsac qarTvelebi “bunebriv” mdgomareobad miiCneven, da ar sWirdebaT maT amisTvis ganmartoveba magaliTad, bunebaSi, rogorc amas axali drois stereotipuli  hipuri mogzaurebi akeTeben, rodesac laSqroben Sotlandiis mTebSi sakuTar TavTan yofnis da Wvretis, ganmartoebis survilis dasakmayofileblad. is harmonia, rasac es Sinagani vibraciebi qmnian uaRresad gamamxnevebelia da SeuZlia gulis kari gaxsnas, goneba ganwmidos da frenis SegrZnebac gangacdevinoT, Tu ra Tqma unda araa zedapiruli da guliT da gonebiT namReria.

sad SeiZleba aseTi TrTolvis gancdis Semdeg adgili movunaxo am arqaul da modi davarqvaT Tavisi saxeli, warmoudgenel da qedmaRlur gancxadebas romelic saqarTvelos patriarqma gaakeTa? rac me minaxavs da gamigonia saqarTveloSi bevri qali, iqneba es feministi Tu visTvisac sruliad gaugebaria feminizmi, erTnairad eTanxmeba raRac donemde saqarTvelos eklesiis mier maT win dadebul ZiriTad principebs, imitom rom es sazogadoebaSi maTi rolebis gansazRvraSi exmarebaT, im sazogadoebaSi, romelmac faqtobrivad dakarga sakuTari gza genderul sakiTxebTan dakavSirebiT.

gansxvavdeba agreTve qarTuli gageba da gamocdileba am vibraciuli, mTrTolvare energiis daniSnulebisa, Cven dasavleTSi gviZneldeba aseTi ramisgan sargebeli vipovoT.

problema maSin Cndeba, rodesac es mamoZravebeli Zala Tu energia ganuyofeli nawilia im sazogadoebrivi rolebisa, romelic mosaxerxebelia mxolod mamakacTaTvis. ase magaliTad, aq kacs ase awyobs qals sjerodes, rom es kavSirebi( energia) unikaluria da maTi kulturis memkvidreobaa, ris gamoc xelSeuxebeli unda iyos. bevri qarTveli am Sinagan energias endoba da hgonia is maT TavianT TanamemamuleebTan daakavSirebs da daaaxlovebs. bevri mas usafrTxoebisa da erTobis SenarCunebis saSualebad aRiqvams (romelic SeiZleba mogeCvenoT an ar mogeCvenoT iluziad), agreTve genderul identobadac (savaraudod meore iluzia), romelic sabWoTa kavSiris darRvevamde sakmaod Tanaswori iyo (genderul Tanasworobas vgulisxmob)*(3).

SesaZlebelia qalebma daijeron rom isini am energiebis da kavSirebis gareT arseboben rodesac maTSidac igive vibraciebi warmoiSoba? Cemi mxridan saqarTveloSi sul mcire 6-jer stumroba (miwveviT) Cems erTgvar Zalisxmevasac unda niSnavdes, yovel SemTxvevaSi mcdelobas mainc, gamego da gza gamekvlia am sakiTxis irgvliv arsebul morevSi.

eklesiis garda qarTuli xalxuri musikisa da sagaloblebis (sanam rusebi akrZalavdnen) yvelaze tradiciul adgilad sufra miiCneva, romelic ZiriTadad aRqmulia mikrokosmosad ufro didi makro qarTuli sazogadoebisa. ucxoel stumars guliTadad maspinZloben *(5) da am tradiciis Tanamonawiled xdian, rac ramdenadac mesmis saukeTeso adgilia am sakiTxebTan Sexebisa da dakvirvebisaTvis. sad aris qalebis adgili am mikrokosmosSi, ara mxolod Cemi, dasavleli qalis, aramed TviTon qarTveli qalebis?

gansxvavebebi dasavleTsa da saqarTvelos Soris, masSi Tu ra warmodgena gvaqvs sufraze, rogor vakvirdebiT da aRtacebaSi movdivarT misiT aSkara da cxadi iyo gasuli kviris erT saRamos konferenciaze findhornSi, sadac qarTuli sufra iyo gamarTuli. es sufra tradiciuli iyo im gagebiT, rom gvyavda Tamada, gvqonda mis mier SemoTavazebuli sadRegrZeloebi da gvyavda maspinZeli, fondis mxatvruli direqtori. xalxis urTierTobebi da saqcielic magidasTan TanxmobaSi iyo TamadasTan, romelic Zalian poeturi adamiani iyo da rac mTavaria kargad gaTviTcnobierebuli qarTul da inglisur wes-CveulebebSi. sufra tradiciuli iyo im gagebiTac, rom yovel sadRegrZelos moyveboda qarTuli simRera da TiToeuli sufris wevris gulidan amomaval sityvebs, romlebic sadRegrZelos ukavSirdeboda miesalmeboda irgvliv yvela. tradiciuli iyo imitomac, rom karga xans gagrZelda da vsvamdiT wiTel Rvinos, rogorc pativiscemis kidev erTi dasturi, ra Tqma unda sadRegrZelos Semdeg da ara manamde.

swored aq damTavrda sufris tradiciuli gagebis idea da Semdeg Cemi azriT, erTob inglisur/evropulma momentebma iCines Tavi. Tavdapirvelad unda vaxseno Tamadis roli da TviT Tamada, romelsac ramden qarTul sufrazec ar vyofilvar iSviaTad Tu vinme amCnevs xolme, stumrebi xSirad erTmaneTSi layboben, an sulac mobilur telefonebze saubroben, zogi SeiZleba mRerodes kidec an xmamaRla gacxarebiT laparakobdes misTvis saintereso Temebze. Cemi gagebiT, rodesac sufraze msgavsi ram dasaSvebi xdeba maSin es udaod cudi Tamadis niSania. amis sapirispirod, Cvens Sotlandiur sufraze yvela erTmaneTs usmenda da mxars ubamda, yvelas erTi sasaubro Tema aerTianebda, yvela Tamadis  sufris warmarTvis saucxoo niWiT moxibluli, krZalviT SevyurebdiT mas. igrZnoboda erToba, raRac axalic gavigeT da viswavleT kidec. Cveni Tamada gaxldaT frenk qeini, romelmac Cemi azriT didi samuSao Seasrula da gvaCvena Tu rogori SeiZleba iyos da unda iyos sufra. “Tana-moTamaded” ki mas qali hyavda, erTob mgrZnobiare da Wkviani qali, mkafio metyvelebiT da naTeli saubriT. sxva qalebsac masTan erTad TavianTi wvlili SehqondaT sufris erTobaSi da mxiarulebaSi. mikrofoni gadadioda xelidan xelSi, yvelas visac Tavisi azris da gulidan amomavali sityvebis Tqma undoda, ambobda amas Tamamad. sufrasTan isxdnen TeTrkaniani da Savkaniani qalebi, maRlebi Tu dablebi, protestantebi, qalebi kelturi warmomavlobiT, amerikidan, iaponiidan. Sotlandielma qalma marjeri breim imRera qarTuli qalTa saritualo simRera, romelsac maSinve xmebi Seuwyves sufris wevrma qalebma. es iseTi saocari ram iyo, yovelgvari SiSis gareSe, laRad Sesrulebuli, rom me marTlac vigrZeni Tavi raRac gansakuTrebulis nawilad da me vgrZnobdi: me mindoda iq yofna.

es ar gavda tradiciul qarTul sufras, sadac qali arc gverdiT uzis Tavis mamakacs da verc imas naxav sadRagrZelos ambobdes. Tu ar gagimarTla da ar xar stumari qali, maSin mogiwevs umetesi drois samzareuloSi gatareba nairnairi kerZebis mosamzadeblad, qarTveli qalis rolic esaa: sufris msvlelobisas axal-axali da cxel-cxeli Semoitanos xolme, TefSebi da nasufrali akrifos magididan da ZiriTadad xelze moaxled emsaxuros sufris wevrebs. arasodes gamigonia qarTul sufraze qals sityva eTqvas da rodesac me vecade erTxel, maSinve gamaCumes da damarwmunes, rom es normaluri movlena iyo, damariges kidec Semdegac ase movqceuliyavi*(4). gekiTxebiT, sad da ratom unda mepova iq Cemi adgili, ormag standartebSi, Semdeg rom Tavi uaryofilad da ignorirebulad megrZno da Cemi TavisTvis damesva kiTxva, saerTod aq ra mindodaTqo?

findhornis sufra iyo cocxali, sazeimo, sufris yvela wevri saerTo mxiarulebaSi CarTuli, Tavazianebi sapirispiro sqesis mimarT. kerZebic, Tavis mxriv Zalian gemrieli da ubralo, ar warmoadgenda raRac rTul da CaxlarTul kulinarul Sedevrebs. maT Semqmnel mzareulebsac (orive sqesisas) didi madloba da gansakuTrebuli xseneba ergoT sufris wevrebisgan. es findhornis fondis damokidebuleba da midgoma kidev erTi mowmoba iyo aseTi fesvgadgmuli pativiscemisa pirvel rigSi da mec Tavs ra Tqma unda Zalian komfortulad vgrZnobdi, vgrZnobdi rom imaTi nawili viyavi. didi gansxvaveba qarTulsa da am Sotlandiur sufras Soris enis barieris ar arseboba iyo, aq yvela inglisurad saubrobda.

amasTan dakavSirebiT maxsendeba erT-erTi yvelaze gulsatkeni sufra CemTvis, sadac Tavs ukiduresad arakomfortulad vgrZnobdi, es lxini gaimarTa  britaneTSi. am sufraze yvela inglisurad saubrobda qarTvelebis garda, Tumca sakmaod kargad SeeZloT gagebac da azris gadmocemac, magram. .. pirvelad aq vigrZeni uxerxulad Tavi, TiTqos raRac ise ar iyo, rogorc unda yofiliyo, magram radgan qarTuli ar mesmoda ver vgebulobdi ra xdeboda. maT gverdiT adgils ver vpoulobdi. zedapirulad ase Canda, viTom yvelaferi Cveulebrivad midioda, magram Cemi qarTveli Tanameinaxeebi aSkarad normalurze ufro mets miRimodnen da micinodnen, sicilic raRac siTbos moklebuli iyo. mogvianebiT ramdenime wyarodan gavige, rom iq myofi qarTvelebis (kacebis) saubrebi Seicavda damamcirebel da seqsualuri konteqstis mqone Seuracxmyofel komentarebs Cemi misamarTiT. ese igi, am uxamsi komentarebis fonze TvalebSi  miyurebdnen, micinodnen, sadRegrZeloebs ambobdnen da TavianTi turnes warmatebas zeimobdnen. me ar minda amis nawili da moziare viyo. (es Zalian bevr cudze metyvelebs am konkretul qarTvel kacebis Sesaxeb da arafers Cemze, aqve minda aRvniSno, rom qalTa dayofa qaliSvilebad da bozebad gavrcelebuli  Temaa saqarTveloSi).

stumar qarTvelebs Soris Cems sakuTar qveyanaSi Tavi mousvenrad da ucxod vigrZeni, maSin roca sxvadasxva rasis, kulturisa da rwmenis warmomadgenlebTan findhornSi, romlebic gulaxdilebi da didi pativiscemiT gamsWvalulebi iyvnen qarTuli kulturis da tradiciebis mimarT Cemi xma TrToda simRerisas, suli maRldeboda, gulis kari iReboda da Tvalebi mibrwyinavda. me netarebaSi viyavi, radgan Tavs iqaurobis nawilad vTvlidi.

SeiZleba saqarTvelos patriarqs surdes gansazRvros qalTa roli qarTul sazogadoebaSi ise, rom maT ver SeZlon WeSmariti sixaruliT ibrwyinon TavianT qveyanaSi. SeiZleba mas surdes isini saxlSi isxdnen da pasiurad elodebodnen qmrebis mosvlas, raTa maT fexebi dabanon. SeiZleba qalebis umravlesoba amas normad aRiqvams, rom ara aqvs xmis amoRebis ufleba, da rom verasodes Seicvleba rame. maSin, keTili batono.

Tu mxolod esaa qarTuli sufra, saqarTveloSi namaspinZlari, kacTa mier dominirebuli, romlebic elodebian am gauTavebeli kerZebis mzadebis da samzareuloSi qancis gawyvetis Semdeg rogor mieaxlebian maT colebi karebSi Sesvlisas da fexebs dabanen, Tu mxolod esaa qarTuli keTilSobileba da stumar-maspinZloba, maSin madlobT, magram me marTlac ar msurs aq Cemi adgilis povna an am yvelafris nawilad gaxdoma.

me vipovi adgils albaT im qalebs Soris, visac ar surs maT xedavdenen monebiviT qedmoxrilebs, romlebsac ar gaaCniaT aranairi xma, da cdiloben Tavi daimkvidron, gaixaron sakuTari individualobiT, ipovon dakarguli xmebi, gaaRon gulis karebi da gulianad imReron TavianTi sakuTari simRerebi. . .…am qalebis gverdiT miguleT mec.

*(1) Has feminism arrived in Georgia?  Damien McGuinness BBC News Tbilisi

*(2) www.unfpa.org/public/home/news/pid/13518

*(3) www.ge.boell.org/web/116-996.html

*(4) scholarworks.iu.edu/journals/index.php/aeer/article/view/1249/1332

*(5) A Guest is a Gift from God Coner McKeever

With thanks for the translation  by eliso sarava

GEORGIA Where do I fit in?

Now that I know a lot more about it, do I actually want to?

In Georgia, 'traditional(gender)attitudes still dominate. And workers on one building site in central Tbilisi were clear about what they thought a woman's role in Georgian society should be.

'In an ideal family, the man should be the head of the family, the breadwinner. And the wife should care for the family. That's how a household works harmoniously' said one man.

That is a view shared by the country's powerful Church. At a Sunday sermon at the main cathedral in Tbilisi at the end of April (2012) the patriarch, head of the Georgian Orthodox Church, got involved in the debate.

'Men are in charge of the family' he said, 'and women should be waiting at home ready to wash their husband's feet when the get in from work.' (1)

He omitted to mention the extremely high rate and well documented evidence of domestic violence against women by the ‘head of the family’.  By imposing gender roles within the family he is attempting to break the women’s movement currently gaining momentum in Georgia. Women are trying to speak out against issues of violence and are being proactive in an attempt to empower themselves within this patriarchal society. By stating such ludicrous expectations of both male and female behaviour, the patriarch seems to be positively encouraging these gender stereotypes and would appear to be endorsing and  perpetuating a cycle of domestic subjugation .  *(2) As the popular Georgian saying goes, ‘Women know their place’.  Not, Women SHOULD know their place… no, women are very clear about their place and it’s not on an equal footing with men. (Excuse the pun) 

Can I respect the patriarch for saying this about women? I can give him about the same amount of respect as he has afforded me. On the acceptance of domestic abuse and utter female subservience, I have no intention of complying. The question of women’s subservience is not entirely unique to Georgia so I need to look a bit deeper into the society and its traditions to see if I fit in anywhere.

It’s funny how anniversaries spark re-connections with old adversaries.  As the apparent death knell from Ilia II issued a year ago this month coincides with a year of grieving and mourning the loss of my own intimate relationship with Georgia, I find a need to reason and understand where I did or do (still? )fit in. The loss was the result of a series of betrayals and emotional abuse from a whole group of people who had professed to care about me.

I have just returned from a week singing Georgian song at the Findhorn Foundation which is in the Scottish Highlands.  At Findhorn, participants were invited to experience, some for the first time, other’s, like me, for the umpteenth time, the joys of singing and vibrating within Georgian song. Connecting with the internal cat purr of healing is a hard thing to do for us folk in the west but it is what essentially makes Georgian song so unique. By harnessing the inner vibration and sounding to the self, to the me, the resonance of energy can, like a sonic boom, be heard, and felt much further away than by purely using the voice. Using the voice alone is the way we traditionally approach singing in the West. Conversely, this is the energy connection which Georgians refer to as the ‘natural’ state and not the stereotypical image of a ‘natural’ new age traveller romping about naked up in the north of Scotland getting in touch with themselves and doing a lot of naval gazing.  The sorts of harmonies this internal vibration creates  is also very energising, opens the heart, heals the mind and  gives a feeling of ‘flying’ especially if enough head vibration singing is done.

Where does this vibrational experience fit into the archaic (and let’s face it, outrageous ) and assumptive statement made by the patriarch of Georgia? In my experience many women, both those who walk the path of feminism as well as non-feminist Georgian women agree with the basic principles being put forward by the head of the Church on some level because it seems to help to define roles in a society which has essentially lost its way with regards issues around gender.

Also, because the Georgian experience and understanding of the purpose of vibrational connection is different to ours we find it difficult to see the benefit.  The problem comes when the vibration connection is presented as an integral part of societal roles that are convenient to the male. That is, it suits the man to let women believe that this connection is unique and part of a cultural heritage, and therefore ought not to be questioned or challenged. Many Georgians rely on this inner vibration to connect them to their fellow Georgians. Many see it as a way to maintain a sense of safety and cohesion (that may or may not be an illusion) a gender identity (also possibly another illusion) which, before the fall of the Soviet Union was in actual fact pretty equal with regards the equality of the sexes. *(3)

Is it  possible for women to believe that they can exist outside of the vibration whilst still experiencing it? Having been (invited to go) to Georgia (at last count 6 times) must count for some kind of commitment on my part to at least try to understand the maelstrom that surrounds these issues.

Apart from in church the most traditional place for Georgian Folk and (often church music until it was no longer banned by the Russians) is at the Supra which is generally perceived as a microcosm of the larger Georgian society. Foreign guests are welcomed with open arms *(5) into this tradition so as far as I am concerned it’s an excellent place to look at these issues.  Where do women fit into this microcosm?  Not just me, a woman from the west, but Georgian women themselves?

The differences between the way we, in the west look at, study, marvel and re-create the Supra to the actual Georgian supra was  never  more pronounced than on an evening last week when I attended a traditional Georgian supra as part of the Earth Sings Conference at Findhorn. It was traditional in that it followed a series of toasts proposed by the Tamada or Toast Master and was hosted by the artistic director of the Foundation. People responded respectfully and gave the deepest accord to the Tamada who was poetic and knowledgeable about both Georgian and English customs.  It was traditional in that Georgian songs were sung after each toast and that everyone was invited to speak what was in their hearts as long as it was linked to the initial idea proposed in the toast. It was traditional in that it took a long time to get to the end of the evening and that there was red-wine which was drunk, as a mark of respect, after the end of each toast and not before.  

That was where the idea of a traditional experience of a supra ended and I think a very English/European ‘take’ on things began to appear. For a start, at all the Supras I have been to in Georgia, and I have been to many, hardly anyone takes any notice of the Tamada – the guests are often on mobile phones or chatting, or singing and there are often  raised voices and heated exchanges with lots of gesticulating. It is my understanding that if this sort of behaviour is allowed to continue it is the sign of a bad Tamada.  Conversely, at our Scottish Supra everyone listened and supported, learnt something new and sat in awe at the skill of the Tamada, Frank Kane who, in my opinion did an outstanding job in showing us what a supra could be like, ought to be like, should be like. Women contributed on every level with the co-Tamada being a woman, and a very articulate and sensitive woman she was as well. The microphone was handed around to anyone who felt they wanted to contribute and women contributed just as much as men.  There  were white women, black women, tall women, short women, women from a gospel background, from a Celtic past, from America, from Japan. Scottish Margery Bray sang a sacred Georgian woman’s song accompanied by a mixed voice drone and all the women did these amazing things with no fear of intimidation. I definitely felt part of something really special and wanted to be there.

This was unlike at a ‘traditional’ Georgian supra where women neither sit with the men or contribute to the toasts. Unless you are a guest, women have more often than not spent all day preparing the food. The role of the Georgian woman during the supra is to keep bringing food out, to keep things fresh and to remove plates and generally be a dogs-body. I have never heard a woman speak at a Georgian supra and when I tried, I was dismissed and admonished even though I had been told it was normal and was even encouraged to do so. *(4) Where did I fit in to that double standard?  I felt  negated and ignored which in turn made me question the reasons I was even attending such an event.

The Supra at Findhorn was supportive, convivial, inclusive, celebratory and courteous to both sexes. The food, whilst not attempting to follow any form of complex table organisation was lovely and had been prepared and served by kitchen staff (of both sexes) who were recognised and thanked publicly  It was a testament to the attitude and approach of the Findhorn Foundation that such deep rooted respect existed in the first place and I felt very comfortable being a part of it. The biggest difference between the Findhorn Supra and one taking place in Georgia was that there were no language barriers as everyone spoke English.  

Having said that one of the most traumatic Supra’s I have been to and was made to feel very uncomfortable at was one which took place in the UK where everyone but the  Georgian guests spoke fluent English. (the Georgian guests on the whole had a good grasp of English however)  It was there that I felt that something was not what it ought to be, but not speaking Georgian I had no idea what was wrong. I just did not feel as if I fit in. Everything was working on the surface but the company I was keeping seemed to be doing a lot of extra smiling and the laughter was devoid of warmth. I have since been told from more than one source that the conversation by the Georgian (men) present included making derogatory and sexual comments about me. This happened whilst looking me in the eye, smiling, laughing, toasting and celebrating the success of their tour. I don’t want to be part of that. (This says everything about these particular Georgian men and nothing about me – the defining of women as either virgins or whores is a recurrent theme in Georgia)   

In the company of visiting Georgians, in my own country I was made to feel uncomfortable but in the company of a mixture of cultures, races and creeds at Findhorn who were being true to and respectful of the Georgian culture and traditions my voice soared in song, my spirit flew, my heart opened and my eyes shone. I loved being part of that.

The patriarch of Georgia may want women to be defined by ‘traditional’ roles so that they are unable to genuinely shine within their own society. He may well want them to be at home, passively waiting to wash their husband’s feet. Maybe too many women accept as the norm that they have no voice, have no right to a voice and that nothing will ever change. Right then.

If the reality of a Georgian supra, hosted in Georgia, dominated by men who negate women, assume and expect  they will break from the drudgery of endless food preparation  to wash their  feet as they come through the door represents all that is supposed to be noble and good about Georgia then I really don't want to be part of it – thank you.

If I can find a place among the women who refuse to be seen as either  domestic slave or the voiceless teenage virginal bride  and who are pressing forward in the struggle to establish and flourish within  their own identities, find their own voices, open their hearts and sing their own songs… then count me in.

*(1) Has feminism arrived in Georgia? By Damien McGuinness BBC News Tbilisi
*(2) www.unfpa.org/public/home/news/pid/13518
*(3) www.ge.boell.org/web/116-996.html
*(4) scholarworks.iu.edu/journals/index.php/aeer/article/view/1249/1332
*(5) A Guest is a Gift from God Coner McKeever

BE-ing Georgian

“To be, or not to be, that is question” –Hamlet

My mind spins around this phrase all the time. What is it to be anything? How does one define oneself? Does one let others do the defining? Is it done through words? Mood? Culture? Song? Food? Buildings? Politics? Gender?

For me be-ing is very present-participle, very here and now, very elemental. Sometimes I am all water, then there is a fire in me that propels me forward, or there might be  the solidity of the earth which holds me or the aspiration of the air. I am mood and spirit and centre force. I am my own yardstick full of character traits and rights and wrongs and I am love. Am I a citizen of the world or tied to a collective conscious that has grown from living in one place for so long? Is my –ing based on a past culture or do I live entirely with my character and personality here in the present carving out each day as new water passages through soft rock?

What is it TO BE?

To be English, to be Italian, to be German, to be French or to BE GEORGIAN?

I saw this poster on Facebook, posted by Georgian friend and there it was again,THAT THOUGHT.

‘Yes, but what does it MEAN??’











I looked to the Georgian media and was shocked at what Damien M Guinness had written in his article, ‘Has Feminism arrived in Georgia’ (1) which showed quite clearly that is has not as the TV show designed and manipulated to show the very worst of male macho-ism, ‘Women’s Logic,’ shows. 

Images of scantily dressed women answering patronising, degrading and manipulative questions is described by Georgian feminist protest leader Ninia Kakabadazae when she says,

'The programme makes women look stupid and reinforces dangerous stereotypes, in a country where women are often viewed as intellectually inferior'

My own experience of working with the Georgian media was markedly different but just as defining. Interviewed by The Patriarch’s own TV channel I was ‘told’ to change my top no less than three times for fear that the tiniest bit of flesh below the collar-bone might show. Images of women bounce across social net-working sites across the world but those coming out of Georgia which play on the stereotypical Virgin verses Whore look – are disturbing.

Take this one I saw today on Facebook

Translation: You don’t know what to expect. And, yes that is a dagger you see before  you.
   








I asked my sister, who knows of my involvement with Georgia, and who works as an education officer at a prison here in the UK, what the ‘under-belly’ of society thought about the idea of what it was to be Georgian and what she came back with shocked me. All prisoners no matter where from held the same view. Georgians were thugs, the worse kind of criminals, emotional-less, calculating, ruthless, cold and dangerous.

Whilst I have had mixed experiences with Georgian personalities I did not want to ‘boil them all in one pot’ as one particular Georgian saying goes so  I asked Georgians themselves what it meant to BE GEORGIAN.

It would appear that Be-ing Georgian is tough. The question threw many of my Georgian friends into a frenzy of past/present double-think and some, recognising the complexity of the question choose not to answer, telling me it was something they had never thought of before and that it was too complicated. (Did that make them lazy or were they not comfortable sharing?)

There was a lot of talk about soul and character and individuality.
‘But how does that make you Georgian?’ I asked. ‘It’s about being emotional, being connected to the ground, being natural’ another answered. Well, I’m all those things, I thought and I’m not Georgian.

The word patriotic and nationalistic came up a lot. This and a claim that as a country that has constantly been oppressed, invaded and persecuted part of be-ing Georgian seems to be  a desire to stand up and fight for freedom and democracy.

Patriotic democracy? Nationalistic freedom? Mmmm another oxymoron.

OK but what characteristics would you use to define a Georgian personality? I kept asking. What is it to BE Georgian?

‘Music defines us, the mood of music’ came one reply. ‘What kind?’ I asked and a link to the Basiani ensemble (members of the Patriarch of Georgia’s choir) was posted on my wall.  Uh oh, another double-think moment. I represented one particular choir here in the UK for 3 years and I understand, probably because I sing Georgian song,  that the mood of different types of folk music helps to define characteristics of different regions. For example the songs from the grape growing region of Kakheti  mirror the movement involved in working the land for grapes whilst those songs from Svaneti are harsher, stronger, more dominant with a crashing stone bass sounds which  reflect the landscape and the hard physical labour which must go into surviving in remote mountainous regions.

Sacred church song however is sung to strict rules and allows for no variation. It is supposed to be sung by those with a pure voice that comes from a pure soul. Unfortunately as I know to my own personal cost, that this is not always the case.(2)
 
‘Not as holy as would be expected’ describes the apparent hypocrisy which frustrates not just me but the feminist movement in Georgia who speak angrily about the ‘Do as I say, not do as I do’ attitude of the church especially towards women.

So, in order to challenge certain perceptions that just keep re-appearing I kept pushing the question – what is it to BE Georgian, what characteristics does a Georgian have?

Then, finally, this answer came in this response.
.
We are,

‘Unique in everything, love, hate, wisdom, silliness, we can be mean, generous, decent and rude, open-hearted and tricky at the same time. Can you find any other nation in the whole world who is so versatile? We LOVE fame and fortune more than anything! We can criticize a man to death and ban him, but worship him when he’s dead and bring a sea of flowers and heart-melting toasting at his funeral. We really are a nation who are from ancient roots and we can boast this over the world, making other nations feel desperate and low’

This perceptive Georgian woman is a neurologist (3) who has thought a lot about this question as the unexplained nature of her people intrigues her as well. She then went onto write about how the character of a Georgian can only be based on the ideas of the past, which are:

'A past of stories of decency and knight-ship, mysterious and powerful women and tales of ruthless vendetta.'

As several other Georgians have also told me, the good intellectual, moral and spiritual core has gone from the present day Georgian - eliminated over the years by Russian persecution. What is left behind are beautiful but empty toasts to a past which seems to be being re-written somehow, much like our own King Henry VIII re-wrote his present in order to woo Anne Boleyn when he re-enacted and romanticised The Knights of the Round Table fables.  

Like Good King Hal’s portrayal, that present was based on an illusion of the past.

Is Georgia now doing the same? Is Georgia trying to re- define and re-sculpt an image of a Georgia that it wishes to portray to the world but one which is beyond its own abilities? Is this  what makes the Georgian so difficult to define?

The reality it seems, and I guess this is why it took so much digging to find some kind of  answer, is that the modern Georgian is an echo of the past – only the negative traits remain.

Before being -ing there was bravery, genuine hospitality, tolerance, wisdom, creativity and ‘being nice’ by nature, now there remains visible only negative traits, laziness, excessive drinking, supra's where offense is easily taken, empty toasts to fairy tales from the past made into glories fables  and the assumption that Georgia is God’s chosen land and that no-where else could ever match it for its beauty, nobility, richness of culture, heritage, history and past. 

No humility in there then.

All of this manifests itself in an arrogance based on assumption.

Is that what it is to truly BE Georgian?

I truly hope not.

Sarah

(1)http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-17943026
(2) The Holy Choir of The Patriarch of Georgia is of a combination of several choirs most notably Basiani and Shavnabada – of Basiani I have no personal experience.

(3) Mariam Velijanashvili

Language and Waiting

Words, power and how language defines us.

“The tongue is mightier than the blade” *

“The pen is mightier than the sword”

This idea has appeared time, and time again through -out different cultures, times and religions and has settled here in the West as a euphemism for polite negotiation. Hopefully, this is in preference to passive/aggressive power struggles.

Not so, it would appear, in Georgia.

The menacing sword held in the right hand of  Kartilis Deda, a huge statue which stands at the top of Sololaki Mountain, can be seen from most of Tbilisi  and is impressive. The translation into English gives the statue another name. Known as 'The Mother of Georgia' the statue represents a philosophy which gives the Georgian people both power and keeps them powerless. In her left hand this giant Deda holds a bowl for wine which is synonymous of the great traditions of wine-making and hospitality that Georgia is notably famous for. The sword, clutched in her right hand is meant to be a warning to any potential invaders. Georgia will defend her lands, territories and rights.

Here is double-think at work again; the power of the ideas presented in this statue, loyalty to kin, honour and hospitality keep the culture alive but which actually, only succeeds  within strict and rigid cultural and orthodox guidelines. However, without an ability to relax or remove the metaphorical sword many aspects of that culture become powerless, the way women are perceived, for example or the way the certain phrases define such perceptions of who the Georgian people are.

There is a phrase I have heard 1000’s of times in Georgia and it transcends the different regions, tribes and traditions.

“ I (we) am (are) waiting for you”

Ok, that’s great but what does it mean? It seems full of power yet feels powerless at the same time. It seems out of context, out of time.  It gives and it takes in the same instant and assumes an intimate connection with you, as a potential guest, but also makes you, the guest, responsible for that connection and any action needed to arrive whilst being waited for. Your action will ensure the statement is a success  or a failure. That phrase, followed by a shrug of the shoulders and another utterance, “What can I do?” seals the double-thinking process  which continues, to this day, to put my head in a spin.

The potential guest is never quite invited, but is always welcome, the potential guest is placed in a passive/aggressive position and like Kartilis Deda, is kept trapped in a never ending cycle of hand holding the cup of wine and offering friendship but from behind a sword, which threatens to kill should they come too close. If the guest fails, or offends, as they inevitably will, the shoulder shrug confirms the low expectation of the guest in the first instance whilst absolving all responsibility or initial instigation and the side-stepping phrases which started the cycle, will be spoken again. At this point neither the pen, nor the sword can offer any answer, or comfort.

I first saw Mother Georgia as part of a night-time drive/walk through Tbilisi. The air was electric with both sexual tension and confusion. That  night in September 2009 had started with the phrase, ‘I am waiting for you’ and had ended with a shrug, palms up, and a, ‘What can I do?’ as I had tried to understand, through heated conversation, the contradictory ideas presented in the Deda, with a Georgian man who then (and now) had absolutely no idea what I was talking about.

Recently large statues of Stalin have been returned to their original plinths both in Tbilisi and through-out Georgia. This process has been funded by the new government. As Kartilis Deda looms over Tbilisi, defining and confining, I wonder, if statues are symbolic of a Georgian identity, then what does the return of Stalin all really mean? Head spin time again.

Georgia prides itself on great art, literature and culture so I hope that eventually she is able to begin to see that there are alternatives to the passive/aggressive- powerless/power conundrum that is self-perpetuated by the symbolism of Deda. Of Mother.

Taking Deda down could be an act of powerful redefinition but might just be a step too far. Choosing different phrases to define an identity however, is not.

Sarah

*From the Greek playwright Euripides d 406BC

“We're waiting for you.”

            Wait then. Keep waiting – and make sure you enjoy it, because you might be waiting forever.

            Reciprocity is something we seem to hold sacred these days. Scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours. Love me and I'll love you back. Do as you would be done by. It takes two to tango. We hold our demands for reciprocity up as strength, as sassy, savvy, empowered and liberated. I am no fool – you cannot fool me – I will not be taken advantage of. Do not think I will make the first move, do not expect me to expose myself. You cannot fool me.

            “We're waiting for you.” said one man to another. “We're waiting for you.” came the reply, with a smirk. “Um, no, actually, we're waiting for you – AND we said it first! Jinks! No returns!” The two men stand and look at each other, for quite a long time. They shift slightly, chew their lips and furtively look at each other, making sure not to inadvertently be caught looking.

            “We're waiting for you,” said the host to his guest, an unreadable smile on his lips. “Oh,” said the guest, smiling falteringly and looking at the array of food on the table, the bottles of exquisite wine and the empty chairs. The guest looked at her host once more and saw a twinkle in his eyes, hard as glass. “We're waiting for you!” he said again, no impatience, just amusement. Declare you hand, he means to say, show us your weakness, he's thinking, give us an excuse to slip a dagger between your ribs when you accidentally slight us, she reads in the lines around his glittering eyes.

            “I'm waiting for you,” she says to her lover, staring at the space above her collar bone because she's too afraid to look her in the eye. “I'm waiting for you,” she murmurs as she runs her fingers over her lover's skin, every touch screaming I love you. “I'm waiting for you,” she says silently, a lump in her throat, her heart freezing over, all the while unaware that her lover is peacefully sleeping.

            Don't wait.

 Richard

Vows and when they prevent Change

Change - sometimes it's for the best

With the washing machine whirring gently in the background everything feels on an even keel and very domestic as I sit down to write this. Then from   the radio comes the announcement that Pope Benedict is resigning.  It’s a bold step to state that, ‘in today’s world, subject to so many rapid changes… (I) have to recognise my incapacity to adequately fulfil the ministry entrusted to me.’

Change is the theme here. Change; an ability to let things go, to see clearly when certain systems, cultural, political and social, serve no purpose and are based on a vow made in times past. My own journey with Georgia reflects this theme. I vowed, in 2010, to walk by the side of a Georgian man, who had in turn made his vow to me We were to work together to preserve and cherish the traditions and music of Georgia. This Georgian man embodied all that (or so I was given to believe) was noble and true about the Georgian identity. That vow, now broken, kept me powerless  and blind to the possibility of change, kept me sick and ill with grief, the purpose of which, I now acknowledge, was  designed to strip me of my power, my voice and my ability to recognise when change needed to happen.

Like an onion peeling and revealing its layers, I can now see that the quest of the Saakashvili and the previous Georgian government to westernise many aspects of Georgian culture quickly has had a detrimental effect on the attitudes towards women within that society.  It is almost as if a cancerous and insidious backlash of action against anything which empowers people, if it is compared to some Western ideals, is ridiculed at best and ignored at worst. This has been highlighted significantly over the past few days when the image of a woman with a bloody nose who had attended the protest outside the National Library in Tbilisi, was flashed across TV screens and on Facebook pages. Alongside general condemnation of the violence itself was a judgement, made by some and echoed by others,  that women ought not to be out  protesting, that it was not their place.

Thank God this woman was there.

She chose to be there because she clearly felt strongly enough to protest and  strong enough to add her voice to the opinions of the people on the streets. This is a sign of democracy. There are no guarantees or fail safes when protesting, there is no control, it can be unpredictable and sometimes dangerous. This woman knew that.  How does the Georgian culture deal with this shift? The idea that women are now, very publicly  adding their voices and actions in protest?  If the reaction by many men and indeed Georgian women were to be believed it would appear they are being condemned. I know of many Georgian women who are using their voices to promote change, women from The Women’s Fund who are talking openly about women and sexuality on Georgian television, Georgian Women who are teaching English and who are trying to empower themselves financially and academically by contacting and speaking with people in the west. I know   TV presenters, Radio presenters,  Academics, Women in banks, in the arts, in the theater, in admin. Many of these women earn more than their husbands. I know women who have been left and abandoned, used and ignored, judged by the church, by their families and by a culture based on a vow made in a time that no longer serves any purpose but to which so many seem to continue to want to hold.

Many Georgian women want to change and want to protest, in as many different ways as there are protesters and like butterflies, who appear fragile, they are actually incredibly strong and are changing. Hopefully  they are dragging a reluctant culture behind them. I applaud them.

To those women who are too scared, who feel trapped or frightened and to those women who are choosing to abide by a vow designed to oppress them I say find it in yourself to be stronger, be more resolute, don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater but work together for your future. I would like to, if you will let me, stand by your side.

I only hope that the Georgian society as a whole can experience a cultural shift and, like the Pope,  see when it has reached its ‘incapacity to fulfill the ministry’,  recognize that the vows made in the past will merely block the road to the future  and I hope and pray that Georgia (and us) can act positively and embrace some changes which can only be for the good.

Sarah

Ch-ch-ch-changes …

            Change is what we all hope for, yet it is something we are oddly reluctant to believe in. I find it impossible to imagine a time when I could feel good singing Georgian music again, when me and my partner can walk hand in hand through Tbilisi or when the country has a thriving, unafraid LGBTQ community. Of course, if someone had told me when I was a child, that by the time I hit my 30s the Troubles in Northern Ireland would largely be a thing of the past, I wouldn't have believed that either. I grew up in a London that was frequently bombed, and the West End was out of bounds every year from November when the IRA started their Christmas bombing campaign. Supermarkets, schools, shopping centres, cinemas – I was evacuated out of all of them at one point or another. I suppose the residents of East Berlin before the Wall came down felt much the same way. I should think Palestinians and Tibetans feel that way right now. My point is that everything changes – we know that because we see it every day in the weather, our own faces, the things we like, the things we eat. But when it comes to the big things, the societal things, the really horrible shitty things, we find it impossible to believe. These things change too; bombings stop, walls come down, bitter enemies become friends and people's hearts are made new and unbroken.

            A leopard doesn't change it's spots – some say. Rubbish, I say. If people didn't change, then we would always have to wait until an old generation died out before a war ended, opinions moved on, people wore different styles of clothing or things ever improved. It might not always feel like it, but things improve all the time. Tell me you can't think of one instance when you changed your opinion on something, and I won't believe you – especially if you are an ex anything. Aren't we all ex something? Ex-wives, ex-husbands, ex-lovers, ex-smokers, ex-vegetarians, expats?

            I remember a time when change happened really fast in the UK; the time when became ex-homophobic. I don't think it was related, but it came about when the UK took up mobile phone use en masse in '98, I think, or '99. It also coincided with the real end of the Thatcher years, when the grey caretaker PM John Major was replaced by Tony Blair. This was before he became 'Bliar' and I think there definitely was a link there, at least. It was also about the same time that there was an openly gay character on Eastenders. It was that character that caused my sister to finally understand what her brother had been talking about, a couple of years before. Ex-homophobes, ex-racists, ex-misogynists. It almost happened overnight, almost. So what has this to do with Georgia? Simply this; change will come to Georgia and it will come fast – be sure of that. When it does, we have to make sure we are ready to make friends with our ex-enemies.

Richard

Sarah and Richard have some thing to say about Georgian song.

Georgia I have fallen in love with you but...

I am in love. Not with a person but with a country. The country of Georgia.

The first time I sang your music I fell head over heels. Every  part of me resonated with joy and I felt healed. Healed from past hurts and rejections, healed from grief, healed from pain. The three part harmonies interwove and played with my emotions, teased them, seduced them. The intensity of the energy connection between the strangers I had just met and were now singing with was almost embarrassing.

As a savvy, late 30 something woman, active in the women’s movement, used to having a voice, being listened to and respected, I felt vulnerable. Little did I know I was on the brink of the most important love affair of my life. A love affair with you, Georgia. 

As with all relationships the first attraction, the passion was beguiling. I threw myself into your music. I was building my own business anyway so I decided to I give up a full time teaching job which would free me to sing your songs during the daytime during the week, I listened with complete submission to the voices of your choirs, mostly male it has to be said, from villages, and towns, from the different regions, mountains, plains, sea. I could almost taste the grape sweet and heady within pieces from Kakheti, I hefted  my breath up and over the heavy bass lines from Svaneti. I was head over heals and  It was all consuming.

At that stage the journey was thrilling, exciting, magical and as I was caught up in the romance of it all, in the romance of you.  I became hungry for total immersion so , when the opportunity arose to visit you with the choir I was singing with  we went to sing as part of the Chveneburebi Festival. It was a crazy time  for us all and one we were not prepared for. It was also the first time I started to realise that as a woman from the west I was very out of step with your Georgian women, and they with me. I know that as you are opening up (you have  only been free from the USSR since 1995) you  are trying to change and move forward. 

Women’s rights are coming to your attention and you are used to being steeped in patriarchal traditions that are reinforced by a strong and emerging nationalism that presents itself in an ever increasing and complex procession of double think. I hear you speak about how your culture is reverent to your women I  see you deny them their voice, sexuality, power and identity. 

Thinking back to that sweet month of September in Tbilisi I remember trying to find somewhere near the Opera House that sold sim cards and of Dato, a Georgian man who was kind and hospitable, who clearly wanted to help me, and who became increasingly agitated as I did not understand what he was trying to say. In the end the penny dropped, he wanted me to go in a taxi with him. What for my beguiling new love? I think to find a shop but my suspicious western  women’s instincts kicked in and I walked away. He was incensed and I realise now that it was because I would not do as I was told. I would not conform, I would not adhere, I would not recognise him as the dominant and naturally superior being,

I would not be a Georgian woman.

Swept along by the glamour and excitement of the visit I choose to ignore the signs of duality and duplicity in your heady Georgian psyche ( I have known many of your women hold this duplicity within them as well – in fact many Georgian women foster and endorse these multi-layered attitudes of oppression that play a huge role in your own psychological imprisonment)  and I went ahead and fell in love, this time with one of your Georgian men. That relationship lasted 3 years, and it was three years  which unravelled painfully and exposed some of the darkness at the heart of your beautiful culture.  

My relationship with you has changed. I am still in love, but it is a wiser love a more mature love and one which recognises my identity as a woman who is not Georgian and who has grown stronger as a result . I don’t sing your Georgian music so much anymore. I physically could not tune into the harmonic sounds and the clashing chords for a long time and I have been sick, a physical reaction to the emotional journey of discovery  that put me on such a high. I have met some amazing people on this journey of re-discovering my voice and some incredibly strong women and men who are helping me to understand what happened. That are helping me to understand you. It’s going to take a long time but I am going to sing again and I am going to sing Georgian song again because, it’s very simple, I still love you.

Sarah

Georgia the beautiful …

            Georgia has always been one of those places for me, a place with a draw. It's part of my love of the exotic, I suppose. The linguist in me was fascinated by a language where virtually every verb is irregular, a glamorous ergative-absolute alignment (only Basque in Europe is also of this type, all other European languages, even the otherwise kookie Finnish and Hungarian comply), a crazily complex phonology and a unique and beautiful alphabet. I read the Vepkhist'q'aosani, 'The Knight in the Panther's Skin', Georgia's national epic poem when I was in university and it only heightened the romance. The fascination endured as I learned more about the country. I bought text books in the language and I fantasized about visiting. When I got a job as a food writer, the very first article I pitched was a piece about the cuisine of Georgia. I cooked with and interviewed a very lovely Georgian woman. I bought more text books and studied the language in earnest. My contact with Georgia and its culture stepped up a grade when I joined the Bristol Georgian Choir. I have always loved singing and this seemed perfect. We met every Monday night, the people were welcoming, warm and charming, and the music was heavenly. If you have never heard Georgian polyharmonies, I urge you to do so. I would also say that listening to them is one thing, but producing them, in (occasionally) perfect synchronicity with 20 or so friends is something else. I was hooked. The choir had recently come back from an evidently wonderful tour of Georgia, I was introduced to the Bristol Tbilisi Society (they are twin towns), and my much dreamed-about trip to Georgia seemed inevitable, given time.

            At some point, however, something went wrong. I hasten to add here that it was no fault of the choir – quite the opposite in fact. There are still times now when I see a choir member on the street and go to say hello and then feel quite suddenly guilty that I just simply stopped attending. I put it in my diary to go back, and I really intended to go back, at some point, but each time I tried, I couldn't. There are just some things that turn sour and there is nothing you can do about it. It was like having a long-distance crush for absolutely ages, then finally going on a date with someone. The first date goes fantastically well, so you go on another which is wonderful too, but then, just as you hold hands over the post-dessert brandy, they crack an anti-Semitic joke. Or a racist one. Or a homophobic one or, I don't know, they admit that they think Margaret Thatcher was a great woman. I came across a couple of fairly toe-curling articles about the treatment of LGBT people and women in Georgia, quite by accident, and went cold as I read them. I found a few more and then when I searched for them, it became a torrent. The more I read about the place, the more it was obvious – despite the undeniable beauty and fascination of the place, to a large and very real extent, Georgia is a homophobe and Georgia was a misogynist. I'm not talking about everyone and I know this will upset some, many even, who might say, 'why focus on the negative?'. But there is one thing I cannot forget; one Monday night at choir practise, we sang Shen Xar Venaxi. It's a beautiful devotional song about the Virgin Mary and the title translates as You are the Vineyard. It was my favourite. But the words stuck in my throat and I felt sick. I stopped singing, made my excuses to leave as soon as we finished and I never went back. The truth of the matter is that for me, as a gay man, as a leftist, I couldn't raise my voice to Georgia any more. Not until things changed. By raising awareness of Georgia, by being brave and facing up to the good things and the bad, perhaps this change can slowly come about.

Richard