Brief Encounters in Georgia – Theo’s blog

I’m writing this in the little apartment we’ve rented in Atyrau for our first night in Kazakhstan, reflecting how nice it is to have a space of our own (even if the intermittent water from the kitchen tap is a toxic brownish yellow, unsafe to drink). But I wouldn’t want to miss the travelling experience we’ve had, on public transport and in shared hostel rooms, for the world.

Since leaving Turkey 10 days ago, we’ve been up close and personal with so many people we’d otherwise never have met, each passing through the same spaces on our different missions, strangers meeting strangers in a network of globalisation, briefly getting acquainted with each others worlds, bonded momentarily by the shared trials of a journey, by little acts of sharing or consideration, by common bedrooms and kitchens.

I don’t want to forget these encounters, but we’re not even half way through our trip, so I’m recording them here:

From the Turkish border to Batumi on the Black Sea coast in a 15 seater minibus with 21 passengers, a Turkish woman who’d met and married a French man, Inci and Raouf, both speaking perfect English and teaching us some basic Georgian words (we’ve decided our priority in any new place we visit is learning the local word for “thank you”).  They were very excited to hear about our overland mission, and are probably following our blogs now. I remember how angry Inci was to see, on revisiting Turkey, that apartment blocks are still being built for cheap, with no security against the earthquakes threatening her family and friends;

On the crazy ride from Batumi to Tiblisi, a young Turk Mehmed, who recently served in the Turkish special forces on the borders of Syria and Kurdistan – “very dangerous” – now works in an Armani shop in Istanbul, and is saving to fulfil his dream of studying Architectural Restoration in County Cork;

In “Museum Hostel” in Tiblisi, (which we warmly recommend to any traveller):

A welder from Turkmenistan, working as a motorbike courier in Georgia ‘cos the money is better, who became ecstatic hearing Shannon play her guitar;

A smart middle-aged chap on his way home to Pakistan from his work in Quatar as Ground Crew for Quatar Airways. He tells me Pakistani workers are used as cheap labour and treated as less than human in Quatar, “even though we are all brother Muslims”, but he is lucky with Quatar Airways, who treat staff well “ because it is their brand”.  And the work is unspeakably hot, and getting hotter, he notes ironically, with climate change.

A very lively and jolly Russian Kazakh who gives me tips on Kazakhstan.  He says he’s working in “crypto” and “logistics” which turns out to mean wheelie-dealing to get European car parts into Russia by the back door, dodging sanctions. He also recommends Scientology to me, and can’t grasp the concept of food without meat in it;

Kevaun, a gentle talkative Jamaican medical student, re-commencing his studies in Georgia since he had to flee Ukraine and war on the day of his 1st medical exams last year;

A quiet, private young Ukrainian man with a lovely smile, who simply shows me his Ukrainian wristband;

A Russian exile child-psychotherapist who is more of a long term resident – a decent, sad and serious man who, like several other hostel residents, cannot return to Russia at the moment, so works with special needs children in Georgia.

Our live-in hostel manager from Turkmenistan, the man who made us gloriously welcome when we arrived dripping wet and late at night.  He presents a jocular persona and tells you his name means “happiness”, but pain clouds his face in unguarded moments.  He’s separated from his wife and 4 yr old daughter in Russia and does not now know how or where to get a visa, because of the war;

A German nature hiker girl who is only in town to see an Imagine Dragons concert. She’s inspired by our no-flight travel plan;

And our lovely new woman-friend, the Russian farmer who has popped over to Georgia to catch the same concert, bringing her beautiful daughter with her who stalks around the hostel pretending to be a cat, and who knows every word of ‘There’s nothing holding me back’

Fellow travellers, we salute you, and wish you well as each moves on.

We’re all Just passin’ thru!