The Journey Starts
The legend has it that the oldest ancestors of the Georgians firmly believed that the number of stars in the sky was proportionate to the inhabitants on the planet. Every man had his or her star of fate, which protected the individual. The Georgian saying ‘born on a happy star’ comes from this belief. When a star fell from the sky, people would say that a person had died. Everyone respected their star, their guardian angel, who always treated them fairly and protected them from evil forces. We all have our stars. Was I born on a happy star? First, I had to find it. So I took a journey to Georgia.
For all who are searching for their place in this universe, there will be a stark realization: where we belong might not be where we currently reside. Constantly questioning our way through life can be categorized as a self-deconstructing and destructive force. The way we question ourselves must be performed in a tender and careful way. As we all are variously different, living through massively unique experiences. Yet we are all still human, sharing a similar DNA. Ultimately, it all hinges on how our minds align with the perspectives we subscribe to. So, how we treat each other shows how we treat ourselves. Although we breathe the same air, we can breed vastly different understandings and become hypercritical of one another. We can combat these judgments by viewing the world in a deeper way through traveling and exploring different cultures. This is why I love traveling; it keeps me alive and awake. So in September of 2024, I decided to visit Georgia for the second time. My last trip was so much more than I expected. Still, there were many more things I wanted to do and see again from a different perspective. Self-propelled for adventure, realizing where we all belong was the center of our own creation of a loving heart. With these thoughts floating in my mind, I set my sights on Tbilisi.
The Pomegranate
In my wildest imagination, I wouldn’t have guessed how wonderful each second I spend here would be. Looking down at the shimmering lights of Tbilisi from above as my excitement grew and grew. Walking around the sleeping, silent city was my first activity. familiar yet a brand new adventure. As I walked around, I became hungrier with the smells of the workings of the city’s amazing bakers. Waking up slowly (as all who have visited Georgia know that the city wakes up slower than any other) with the sunrise now climbed way above the valley walls while I was awaiting their opening so I could grab a Lubiani or Kachapuri. Then, with a full belly, I started making friends at the Hostel where I decided to stay called Fabrika. Meeting people here was easier than ever for me since I was already familiar with the culture and who inhabited this old factory, turned into a social hub. However, I was not expecting what I would find there in a couple of days through a pomegranate.
In many cultures, the pomegranate is revered for the beauty of its shrub, flowers, and fruit, symbolizing sanctity, fertility, and abundance. The Song of Solomon compares the cheeks of a bride behind her veil to the two halves of a pomegranate. This fruit, which determined my destiny in Georgia for good, revealed itself to me in a way I could never have dreamed of. Without further ado, the story begins with my good friend Jay, as many other stories lately have started. He was in Tbilisi on my suggestion for a while now and was loving every minute of being there. Now that we had met, some months after Antalya, we needed some catching up to do in this beautiful city. We took a long walk around the city and decided to hang out at Fabrika Hostel.
The place was teeming with life. There we ordered some beers, picked up gaming cards from the boardgame bar, and randomly sat down at a table with two Georgians, offering them a game. The Georgian sisters were surprised at first, yet happy to play with us. One of the girls was a professional dancer, so she asked me to teach her some Tango moves. So we danced in the courtyard in the middle of everyone. The Turkish guy I met on the first day joined us with his friend. Now we were six. Then, eight, as two people from the Netherlands, just sitting on the ground next to us, joined our conversation, one of whom would become the first tattoo customer I would have on this trip! This was the way of being in Fabrika. The wine flowed as the night glowed.
An Unexpected Encounter
Now you must be wondering how it all ties up to the part with the pomegranate. I must agree, it feels a bit disconnected but among the joyous moments that came that day, this was the most wonderful one. Suddenly, two ladies came up to the table/pallet we were sitting at and asked if they could sit there for a while. One of these two ladies was carrying something in her lap wrapped in her jacket. As I wanted a closer look a little face peaked its eyes right back at me and made me smile from ear to ear. There it was! The tiniest, smallest kitten you could ever see. With its adorable little meows, a curious, investigative look around. Then he was fast asleep. It was immediate that I wanted to pet and hold him, so I asked. She answered, ‘’Of course’’.
We started chatting about him and I learned that they found him on the side of the road alone and without a mother, so they decided to save him and try to nurture him till finding him a home to be adopted. So her friend, standing next to me, turned and joined the talk. Upon Jay learning that they were also Moldovan, they started talking in their mother tongue. Seeing me, not understanding a word that was being spoken, the lady who was standing turned to me and started asking me some questions. Her deep blue eyes, dark short hair, and lovely warm smile captivated me. Some moments later, she wanted to give medicine to the small kitten. She kept the medicine in her small handbag. So she started going through and pulling out multiple objects she kept in there. Yet one thing she pulled out from her handbag stood out and was different then all the others. There it was! Her delicate hand was holding out a big, red, delicious-looking pomegranate. I was astonished as she handed it to me. It felt like I just witnessed a magic trick. ‘’Is this how you girls flirt back in your country?’’ I asked, holding the pomegranate. ‘’Possibly’’
‘’Lovers kiss is held in seeds of a pomegranate.
One by one, they fall on a hungry lip.
Brings light among the trembling leaves.
Believed carelessly, nourished delicately.‘’
Bare Witness Mountains!
The journey to the mountains was foggy and would resemble a scene from the Silent Hill games. We took a service car from the bazaar next to the Didube metro station. The ride was familiar. It took us up and above the hills, the valleys, the mountains, and the mountains above them. The weather turned. The roads were narrow, with a sheer cliff looking back up at you, and the driver was steadfast. Climbing on wheels for one, two, three hours. Even though I felt uneasy, I knew it would be a beautiful place to end a life if ever we took a tumble down, so I took that as a sign of comfort. The roads got even steeper. The mountains roared upwards like the swords of the giants. Some peaks hid behind clouds, and some pierced through, almost touching the heavens. The excitement coursed through my body, pulling me stronger and stronger towards that familiar place. Kazbegi.
I was back at the place where I found my soul, a burning, fiery soul which connected with the grounding, calm soul of the mountains. The clouds welcomed us among the ancient stones, bellowing time within existence for millennia. Without blinking, without taking a breath, they lay there with all their might, challenging each and every thing that passes by. An unconscious solid existence. They demanded a sacrifice for the wisdom they awoke in you. I find myself on the edge of their folding cliffs, rolling stones, and falling rain, calling me to come closer. To see the top, to see Olympus, and to walk among the gods, you need to take each step with care and intention. Any mistake may take your life as another sacrifice for their mighty mythos, another unfortunate soul.
Climbing each ridge pleased the deepest urges within me. The shapes of the rocks I was pulling myself up on, though looking jagged, felt soft beneath my hands like the body of a lover’s welcoming touch.
The rain set in, and we continued…
The fog set in, and we continued…
The sun came back, and we continued…
In Rainbows
The magic of the mountains had a tight grip on my mind and body. I was enchanted. Even though my legs were tired from hours of climbing, I had no intention of stopping. I could not think about anything else but reaching the top. So we climbed. The mountain kept growing more distant as we climbed, and it felt even bigger and taller the higher we got. The earth felt hollow as if the mountain’s stomach was empty and hungry for more. I could hear the earth moan and the rocks hum in a deep trans. I felt accepted by the harmonies of nature, and being there was the only right answer. The snow-capped Kazbegi looked at me challengingly. He knew he won this time, but I wasn’t easily defeated.
We climbed halfway up the five thousand meters tall mountain to realize the sun was on its way to set, and we had to return down or it would mean darkness in the cold and unforgiving mountains. So in one last defiant moment, the earth, the dirt, and the sky became one. The rain touched my bare back, and the smells of the flowers permeated my skin. Bliss is embodied in a wildflower. Short spring life. Plucked by its stem to be kept between two pages. A limb lost. To be forgotten or one day bring all its memories back. I may never return to complete my journey. This may be the case, but who can truly say how our heart beats in tune with another’s and what that may bring into a person’s life without making it a little ambiguous? We have grown apart from the rising sun and the heavens above. An earthly concept.
There, the destiny of my trip was determined. The mountains gave way, and the Sea of Tbilisi bore witness. The nymphs sang their songs within the forest as they walked in procession towards the lake. They sang as their voices merged with the night. As the stars kissed our shoulders, the sounds danced in harmony.
I was held so tightly in a warm heart. Yet there were realities. When I went there, I knew I would never want to leave, but in the end, I also knew that I could not stay there forever. Call me brave or call me stupid. I still walk right in the middle of it all. There in her heart, I found myself with a clock running down. The seeds fell one by one until the husk dried up, and I stayed till the last second. The taste of fresh spring spirit turned bitter and haunted us both. Mountaineers in the fog, frozen bodies found amongst the brambles, tangled up in each other’s arms like eagles with locked talons falling from the sky. Those mountains will keep our secrets till they crumble into dust and flow into the oceans. Now tell me, you who have witnessed time itself and decay throughout. Till the death of the observable universe do us part. What a poetic misstep. A lyrical madness. Tempted by the strongest of urges. So we set sail.
A new adventure awaits beyond the horizon…
Could my readers guess what this Georgian word “ბროწეული” from the title mean?
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