My Georgian friends have been warning me about March. “It’s crazy” seems to be the consensus. One day might be balmy and clear, the next rainy with hurricane winds. The lion and the lamb seem to be fighting for territory before April eases us into a hot Tbilisi summer.
I spent this first weekend of bipolar Georgian springtime being playful and productive. I sang karaoke for the first time in my life, in both English and Russian (wine seems to help with translation). I filled my refrigerator with grown-up foods and made my own xoriatiki. I finished a writing assignment and walked for hours and hours. I ate Georgian fusion and ratatouille and impossible amounts of cheese. And finally, I set out on a long-overdue exploration of Old Tbilisi.
I could write for days about the peculiarities and beauties of this place, or how much my apartment already feels like home, or how my friends here have lived through four wars in their lifetimes, or how some of my coworkers fall into the category of “Internally Displaced Persons.” But that will all come in due time. For now, Old Tbilisi.