Good Friday in Tbilisi

How to celebrate one of the most important days in your faith in a foreign country whose ‘form’ of Christianity is very different from your own? Today, I started to learn.

Although the most important part of the day would be meeting Tako and her mum in the late afternoon, I was determined not to waste the morning so set off to find some places of interest – and maybe some indication that it was Good Friday.

This time I turned right out of the hotel walking down the road and before I knew it I was at the Peace Bridge again – looking different in different light. But I also spotted an intriguing road sign

‘Worth exploring further,’ I thought and began to walk along a narrow street of old houses with the telltale balconies or square bay windows, the ground floor of most of them used a restaurants and wine bars. That, in itself, was interesting – but just around the corner were a couple of carpet shops: selling carpets both old and modern from all over this part of the world – beautiful work!

and the colours! – simply stunning!

Just beyond I could see the tower of a church. I discovered it was the Sioni Cathedral whose importance has now been supplanted by the modern Holy Trinity Cathedral on the opposite bank of the river and whose omnipresence reminds me of Guildford’s Angel!

Having brought a head-covering with me, I found it very easy to sit at the back of the church and have my own Good Friday worship, thinking in part about the countries which espouse the Orthodox Church traditions but are riven by war. I wondered what was going through the mind of the man you see here: he was there, almost static for all the time I was in the Cathedral – and that would have been at least half an hour. He was focused and undisturbed by others coming and going whether tourists or other worshippers stopping and praying at their chosen icons or kissing the foot of Christ on the cross.

I found it fascinating that some Orthodox churches seem over-decorated. This one didn’t – and it did feel like a place of worship rather than a museum as some sometimes do.

Moving on I found the Meiden Bazaar – another underground market for tourists – and then walked along the riverside road and found the sulfur baths and the mosque.

Time to make my way back to the hotel and Google maps decided I should go the way I came; but I decided to go my own way and was delighted to come across a square where I had spent some time yesterday watching an artist work. Today he actually made a sale while I was there:

A lazy hour and then out to wait for the taxi to go and meet Tako and her mum – poor girl, she has no idea what she’s taking on!

They live about fifteen minutes drive from the hotel and on the seventh floor of a Soviet era block, but the flat is lovely and has good views. Hopefully the land between them and the elegant row of houses behind their car park will not be built on and they will be able to enjoy the views in future, too.

Because it’s Easter here we were going to dye eggs. Good Friday is called Red Friday and eggs are boiled in a mix of herbs to give them a deep maroon colour. When they are ready they are removed and placed on a bed of grass grown specially for the occasion

But that wasn’t all I was to experience: real Georgian hospitality means everyone is welcome and this home is a great example. Special foods were prepared from the area the family came from originally – a polenta style ‘bread’ to be eaten with cheese (Georgian of course!) and a chicken dish that was like a very gently spiced curry as well as salads and more cheese, a fruit dessert and home made cherry liquer for the Tamada’s toasts: however many they decide are appropriate. It’s a good job the drink comes in little shot glasses as, in a proper supra, there can be many in an evening. Reminiscent of China!

I think the ‘bread’ is Megrelian homi and there is a special skill in beating it together in the pan and in serving it: of course, I had to try my hand at both. No way could I deliver the power that the lady of the house did in beating but I did manage to create a respectable serving having watched the earlier actions carefully.

When I knew I would be here for Easter I had decided to try to bring a simnel cake to this foodie culture as an experience – maybe a new one. The cake was duly made and carefully packed and then flew across the world in my suitcase…. would it survive? I had been worried about opening it, but lo and behold, it had done well and we were able to enjoy some together as my contribution to the evening. It was given pride of place on the table with the Georgian Paske cake (looking rather like panetonne) on the left and the eggs in their bed of grass on the right.

And so we’re all set to take to the road tomorrow and head to Guria – hoping that we have left a difficult political situation behind.