So I have taken a break from the blog to write a children’s book instead – it is published on lulu.com, called World Playground, a compellation of pictures I have taken of children around the world. I dedicated the book to my niece, Anabelle Hanna, who was born April 20th. Anabelle in Farsi means, ‘I am beautiful,’ so she will be saying that every time she says her name. I got to see her for the first time this weekend in Madison, Wisconsin, where Brian and Nancy live. Boy is she cute and I am not just saying that because I am now Aunt Kelly. She has this little layer of puppy fur that makes her even more adorable.That evening began the next international travel in Turkey and The Republic of Georgia, located on the Black Sea that Russia tried to take over last year. Why the heck would I choose to Tbilisi, Georgia? It all started in Singapore last summer while I was working on the mycoplasma lab with a colleague from Georgia, Vadim Estravi. His family is high in the political system, extending from Georgian knighthood. He was consulting with me on master planning ideas for a biotech campus sponsored by the Georgian government. Vadim has an accent similar to Count Dracula and my favorite memory of him was listening to him order chicken blood for the mycoplasma lab. It sounded like a crank call.
Then on New Year’s Day as I set my resolutions for 2009, I decided to not travel as a tourist anymore, but try to travel with a purpose of preserving cultures or educating people along the way. I contacted a professor from architecture school who is a world known Byzantine architectural historian a former boyfriend spend two summers uncovering frescoes in the caves of Cappadocia, Turkey. Professor Ousterhaut replied to my email within hours and although Turkey does not give archeological permits to foreigners anymore, there is some work being done in Georgia. He has a contact at the University of Pennsylvania working in Vani and gave me the contact to the curator at the National Museum at Tbilisi, which needs help with a structural analysis.
Last semester, I combined my term paper for my international logistics class on manufacturing collaborations, using Vadim’s project as my case study, so I have a little background on Georgia.
Istanbul, not Constantinople
My first stop was a layover in Istanbul. I booked the Kybele Hotel (www.kybelehotel.com) as recommended by a Russian friend of mine and it was amazing with a prime location within a minute of Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque and the Hippodrome. Turkish lamps line the ceiling with a charming tea parlor, courtyard and, of course, a carpet shop. As I step out the door, there are no less then 10 men who want to me my friend…and probably sell me a carpet. (See note on research for Marketing 343 on facebook.)“But you must have an escort in Istanbul..” one hustler recommended.
“If I accepted every invitation to escort me, I would have a line of Turkish men behind me.”
I refused them all until a very attractive one stuck with me a while and snuck me into the Muslim side of the closed Blue Mosque. Ramadan is his name because he was born during the feast of Ramadan and is sure to let me know that he is Kurdish and not Turkish. Kurds are a derivative of the Iranians who live primarily through Turkey, Syria and Armenia. I am blunt that I am not interested in a tour guide, jewelry or a carpet, but he is still adamant on following me like a puppy dog. He does know Istanbul well and led me in all the right directions to make the most of my 24 hours, including a roof terrace looking over the sea and a mosque for sunset.He seems less like a salesman and more like a friend now. As I learned in Morocco, Fiji and Egypt, if you have a local with you, all others will leave you alone. Ramadan inquires on my age and wants to know if ‘I have boyfriend.’ I tell him about Stefano, which he is sure that all Italians cheat on their women, which led to an interesting conversation about sex around the world and how foreign men view it.
He claims I am now his ‘sister’ and he is my brother.
“My real brother tried to sell me for camels last year in Lebanon. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
He just looked at me perplexed. It is Mother’s Day in Turkey, but I do not accept his invitation to meet his mother for dinner…she probably wants to sell me a carpet too.
Georgia – Home of the Unibrow!
Am I in Russia, the Middle East or Eastern Europe? I am lost among cultures, but I like it. Nothing is in English, the language has no western characters and sounds Russian. Tbilisi is the capital of Georgia and it is the only place where a Mosque and Synagogue exist next to each other. Some churches look Christian Byzantine, some have onion domes as in Russia, and others were constructed around 500AD and taken over by different religions through time. Great Medieval research for Sword Lake.
I wandered into a very organized protest encouraging the resignation of Mikheil Saakashvili, the president. Although I do not know what is being preached to the crowd, I can tell by the tone, the pauses, and the applause that it is politically charged. There are a large amount of supporters and some travel in ‘cells’, which are temporary structures, aligned perfectly in the streets with cots to house the protesters. They have shut down the main thoroughfare to Liberty Square and caused chaos and a huge traffic jam in Tbilisi at rush hour. If you cannot beat ‘em, join them. Cars just park in the jam and join the protest.
The next day, what I thought would be a quick hike up to a tower outside my hotel, turned into more than a three-hour tour. This tower lights up like the Eiffel Tower at night and seems to have viewing platforms. It is WAY farther up the mountain than it looks and what, are these people, goats? What starts as a paved staircase with rails through a field of red poppies turns into me bushwhacking up a mountain with rusted cables that used to support the Gondola? Once I make it to the top, there is a huge security fence surrounding it. Now I know I cannot possibly go down the hillside I had to scale and I can see vehicles up there, so there must be a road down.I walked the perimeter of the fence until I find a hole, which every Tbilisian teenager has probably snuck through at some point. Once inside, I realize I have just broken into an amusement park. This may be most people’s dream, but my nightmare because all the rides are running, it is filled with carnival workers and I am the only visitor. Guards are approaching me, but I have no idea what they are saying, so I am good now at playing stupid blonde. Every time I think I see a way out, the guards will not let me leave! I am trapped in an amusement park and the Carnies are stalking me!
I find a service road and take it downhill, except it is the wrong way down the side of the mountain. I am hoping for a switch back to reorient me back to Tbilisi, but an hour down the road, I am just in a small village. It is a beautiful walk, surreal green rolling hills with snowcapped mountains in the distance and I still feel like I am in a dream, and I may be walking, like, FOREVER.
I see 5 teenage boys ahead who I think are making fun of me. I ask if they speak English and they just make obnoxious noises. I say Tbilisi? And point downhill. But they have no idea what the crazy girl in spandex is saying (I was not expecting to encounter people when I set out this morning.) A bus pulls up and I just hop on to hope it goes to Tbilisi. Half an hour down windy roads in a rickety bus and these boys may be retarded and who knows, I could be heading for the zoo. Finally we turn a corner and I can see Tbilisi. It would have taken me 3 days to walk. I saw a Monastery on the side of the road, hopped out without paying and took pictures of this 5th century church before finishing my walk home.
According to my Georgian friends the amusement park was the work of a billionaire who made his millions in Russia. The Georgian government was going to strip him of it if he did not reinvest it in a public project for Georgia. He skipped out of town to London and had a massive heart attack...coincidence, I think not.
Yesterday I met up with Vadim’s brother and good friend to visit some hella old churches and eat traditional Georgian food, which would be perfect for a hangover. The biggest cup o’beans, fried pork dumplings, ground beef rolled in dough, and fried cheese. I may be in Wisconsin.
Today I am adventured with two wild and crazy guys on a mountain bike ride into some gorges and through the rolling hills, past 5th century monestaries and cave dwellings. 60km, mostly uphill and my legs are exhausted. Political uprising is brewing and the President will break it up on Saturday if the protesters do not leave. Tomorrow I head back to Istanbul to meet up with Laura and Katy.
