Two months ago, I walked through town with my heart pounding and nervously paid at the supermarket.
Now I can hold conversations in English and Russian and have established myself. I flew to Georgia on my own and lived here for two months. Booking plane tickets, handling troubles, work, meeting people. There's no doubt I've grown in these two months.
I can do it. There are various difficulties and worries, but I can do it.
Taking snaps with Greg
Woke up at 7:30 am. Today is my last day in Tbilisi. I was supposed to do a snap shoot with Greg, but he didn't get up even at 8. I only slept four hours. Since I'm busy meeting people during the day, I can only work on projects at night and in the early morning. I did the last project of the year at the hostel's desk. I was happy and grateful that I could get it done at the hostel desk.
At 10:30, Greg finally woke up and we went out together.
We started walking toward Freedom Square. If there was a good photo spot, I'd have him take snap shots there. Greg prefers being photographed to taking photos, and right now I also prefer being photographed. While practicing poses, I got advice from him. He switched to fisheye and telephoto lenses and shot from many perspectives.
He took pictures of me with the scenery in Old Tbilisi, on a bench near Freedom Square, and portraits too. It was my first time becoming a model and being photographed while walking around the city. I was excited.
Even though we'd only known each other for two days, we could spend time together like this. The first month had no good encounters at all and I was constantly disappointed. But in the latter half I had many meetings, and I felt a strong force working in my favor.
On the way to Mapshalia there were underpass artworks, beautiful parks, bridges—photo spots everywhere.
While shooting in a park, we encountered a stray dog. She seemed to like us and walked ahead as if guiding the way. She followed us for about 20 minutes, so it felt like we were walking a free-roaming pet. When there was another dog further down the sidewalk she got scared and avoided it, and once we passed that dog she would come back. I thought she was so cute.
The last Mapshalia
We finally arrived at Mapshalia. I ordered the usual chicken kharcho, ojakhuri, and water.
Greg ordered Imeretian khachapuri and a salad. He doesn't eat meat. He's not vegan or vegetarian, he just hates meat. He apparently stopped eating it after eating a lot of pork fat at age five and getting sick. In Kazakhstan they also eat raw meat, so that might have influenced him too.
We talked about his background. He lived and worked in Turkey for four months, but it was hard to find steady work, so he wanted to work in Europe. He now lives in Georgia and works at a hostel, but his main job is a video editor. Working at the hostel isn't his main job—it's just a hobby. It seemed fun because he could meet a lot of people. He also works in a freelance-like way, which I really admired.
I also want to call something other than my current work a "hobby" and try new things—be a street photographer or a model. Even though I got a Sony α6400 as a birthday present, I haven't mastered it at all. I want to use it well. He even made a to-do list for Japan, and when I told him things are cheaper there (Adobe plans, iPhone, haircuts), he really wanted to come to Japan. I hope we can meet someday in Japan or some other country.
When we showed each other our passports, his birthday was March 11, 2000, and our ages were very close.
He came to Turkey as an exchange student and apparently made a lot of American friends. Turkey is much cheaper than Georgia—the daily food cost is only about six dollars. The currency is chaotic so he always thinks in dollars. I thought I'd like to go to Turkey next summer and eat delicious food.
In former Soviet countries including Kazakhstan, mental health issues aren't well known. The teaching is to "endure" even when you're mentally ill.
So he too had a period of mental illness, but he went to a hospital and is better now.
Orange wine at the wine cellar
After leaving Mapshalia, we went to my favorite wine cellar. I finally got to try orange wine. The taste was eccentric and unusual. I played the piano, and Greg played too. One-liter prices were 4 lari or 18 lari—so cheap it was shocking. It might even be cheaper than water. Wine heaven.
We did tastings upstairs as well. I really liked a white wine that, though made from grapes, had the scent and flavor of peach. They also had brandy and tea. The staff explained everything in great detail.
At one point I realized I'd left a ring on the piano stand and hurried back running. Fortunately, it was found.
Farewell at the hostel
When we returned to the hostel it was nearly 5 pm. He'd apparently taken some 700 photos in just yesterday and today.
I wrote a message in Japanese on the hostel board and left my business card. I hugged Greg and promised we'd meet again somewhere—definitely in the future.
I put my shoes on and when I turned around, he was already gone. In Europe, once you hug it's a goodbye. It's matter-of-fact.
I took a taxi to visit David's mother. She gave me lobiani and chocolate sweets. I felt a bit nauseous and full, but I had the lobiani at the end. That was my last Georgian meal. She complimented me a lot, saying "You're a good person."
I bowed many times and told her in Russian, "If you hadn't spoken to me, I wouldn't be where I am now. I'm full of gratitude."
The taxi arrived so we finished eating and went outside together. We loaded the luggage into the taxi, and finally hugged David's mother and kissed her on the cheek, then said goodbye.
From Tbilisi to Riga
In the car to the airport I talked about many things with David. Did you meet anyone unpleasant in Tbilisi? No—I met four people from Tinder and they were all nice.
At check-in I had David carry all the heavy bags to lighten me and then passed through. That's why I had him come to the airport. Of course I gave him the taxi fare back. Fortunately, no one weighed the luggage.
I gave David some Japanese yen as a memento: a 100-yen coin with cherry blossoms and a 5-yen coin for good luck. I gave David a long hug at the end and said, "Let's meet again in Japan, Georgia, or somewhere else."
After waiting about 30 minutes at the boarding gate, we finally boarded the plane.
Because we couldn't fly over Ukrainian airspace, the normally three-hour flight took five hours. We flew over the Black Sea, then Romania, Hungary, and Poland before reaching Latvia. No one was sitting next to me, which was great. I could see Turkish towns out the window. I love this moment—the feeling of really being on a journey.
April came to pick me up in Latvia. We met on a tandem ride this summer, hit it off, and decided to spend Christmas together. If I hadn't met April, I'd probably still be in Georgia.
My life is just a firefly's fleeting blink. Since that's the case, I might as well enjoy it.
