You ever have a problem that seemed trivial? But then appears to expand? Starting with that one small issue, and the other thing, and some other stuff; until it’s out of hand or royally irritating?
Last week, I had such a problem. Specifically my NZ outlet adapter and the fact that it wasn’t in my bag.
Trivial, since I sat back into a couch in my uncle’s flat in Tblisi. The adapter was of no more use than a curiosity here. Looking down into Bakhtrioni Street, I observed a bushy bearded old gent selling cheese by the block, from the trunk of a Soviet era Lada. No.
My erstwhile adapter would have been good only for throwing at angry drivers in that windy street. The laptop charger I left plugged into it, on the other hand, stressed me. My PC’s remaining battery was spent in less time than it takes me to type this sentence and I was left with no option, but to find some other use for my time.
I was literally forced to quit the bulk of my work for a week. A guilt-free vacation. With my uncle’s help, I crawled inside a beef khinkali and stayed there.
My first night in town, we visited Tsereteli. Georgia is a good deal colder than New Zealand in January. So my uncle and I climbed the smooth foot-worn steps of the chipped brick buildings. Into cellars and into front rooms full of new used coats. I truly felt for the fellow playing accordion on the drafty metro steps.
The next morning, the sun cut the crisp cold air and lit the old tenements. Riding the squeaky-scrapy (my private name for the lift) to street level, I bustled along to the bakery to fetch two katchapuri for breakfast.
The warmth of my coat, the smell of the bread, and an unusual lack of guilt in my enjoyment. We should do this more often. But the fact is that I’m lazy. Lethargic really. And I don’t know if anyone else has discovered this about being lazy af, but it really interferes with break time.
I have a goal. On my writing alone, I want to feed and house myself. Tantalizing. And I really need to feel like I’m moving toward that goal. Laziness, in the form of youtube surfing, talking to myself, and playing with my pencil, corrodes that feeling. I feel like I can’t sleep because I’m “not getting enough accomplished”.
Because I feel like I’m always slacking, the only time I feel comfortable taking a break from my computer is when it’s dead. And I’m thousands of miles away from a charger.
But since my computer had left its heart in New Zealand. I elected to eat Georgia out of house and home. Khinkali, Dolma, Nigvziani Badrijani, Qababi, Bean Soup, etc… etc… etc. The most illustrious museum in Tblisi was fantastic! Did you know that the region of Georgia bordering the Black Sea is the “kingdom of Colchis, rich in gold” depicted in the tale of the Argonauts? We visited Gori. The childhood home of one Josev Dzugashvili, otherwise known as the monster Joseph Stalin.
We even spent an hour in Tblisi’s Turkish baths. The legend is that some king or other, who suffered from an illness, felt better after bathing here. So he destroyed all the others. I felt better afterwards as well, but without the thirst for destruction.
And suddenly, it was my last night in the country. Since I had to leave for Tblisi International Airport at 3am, we decided not to go to sleep. Instead visit a few pubs. Beer, Chacha, and Shota Adamashvili.
Most importantly, listening to Shota play at the Number 8. His voice drifting through the laughter, stomping feet, and puncuated by a breaking glass. I looked into my beer and at Shota’s hands gliding across his guitar. The greatest country music artist who’s never been to Nashville.
In a few hours, I worried, I’d begin a 48 hour string of flights to the world’s other side. But Shota’s voice pulled me back in. And I felt content. “This is one of the good times”.
With my flight about to board, customs seemed to take forever. Especially considering the fact that, on the way in, the process had lasted only long enough for a stamp and a free bottle of wine. A few days ago, I returned to the states and two feet of snow in the front yard. Due either to laziness or jet lag (whichever), I’m just now posting. Madloba.
Oh! One other thing. This is the address of the U.S. Embassy in Tblisi: 29 Georgian-American Friendship Avenue, Didi Dighomi, Tbilisi 0131, Georgia. This is their phone number: +995 32 227 70 00. If you pay taxes, then the people at this address are wasting your money.
Give them a little hell (or a lot). Cause they need something to do. The visa process is streamlined to give them maximum party time and opportunities to hold banquets. The stories of their Visa Denial process are comedic legend.
