Impressions of Georgia

Being so close to Turkey, I expected Georgia and Turkey to be similar and for Georgia to feel familiar. However, while market merchants were hawking the same vegetables, and although I could still hear many people speaking Turkish in the streets, Georgia seemed suddenly, incongruously, European.

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As I formed my first impressions of Georgia, this feeling of incongruity remained. I’d stumbled into a perplexing almost-version of what I knew of Europe. The gorgeous buildings were there. The cheap alcohol was there. The people walking around in short dresses were there. Other details, however, seemed distinctly un-European, and the first of these was traffic.

My first day in Georgia I stood perplexedly at the corner of an intersection watching the cars go by. It was a basic T-intersection, the sort that might have qualified as a four-way stop in Canada had there been stop signs and less traffic going through it. As I watched, four cars approached the intersection, all turning left. For a moment, all four drivers hesitated. Then they all turned left at the same time. Simultaneously arriving at the middle of the intersection, they formed a roughly swastika-like formation that turned on itself until all the cars had successfully found themselves going in their desired direction.

Nobody died. Hurrah.

I thought that Turkey had taught me to cross the street aggressively, but I was wrong. For one thing, Turkish roads are generally narrow and congested. This means that you have less space to cross, and cars are moving more slowly. Also, Turkish people, even perfect strangers, are always looking out for me.

Georgia’s cities, however, have wide boulevards with few traffic lights. To cross a street in Georgia, I walk into traffic and stare down drivers as if I’m daring them to try running me over. If I manage to make it halfway across the street and no opening presents itself in traffic going the other way, I stand on the median line and wait for a driver going slowly enough that I can make eye contact.

Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. I am convinced that the more aggressively I pose myself the more likely a car is to stop, but the experience is terrifying.

Sunrise over the Georgian mountains at the Batumi train station.

Sunrise over the Georgian mountains at the Batumi train station.

I have now been in Georgia for a few days, and my sense of incongruity is growing. Georgia is a beautiful country with lush forests, spectacular mountains, delicious food, great architecture, big-name designer stores, and hospitable people. It has all the ingredients for a relaxing vacation. Yet there is an undercurrent of tension. I don’t understand what I’m seeing, and two weeks is not long enough to learn, but I’ll do my best.

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