‘’I live in the village Gurianta with my husband and three children. I got married very young when I was 18, but I was lucky to have a great family. During the first 7-8 years, I was sitting at home and raised my children, but when they grew up, I wanted to have my own job and be busy with my own business. I learned to sew from my mother, sat in front of the sewing machine and it turned out that I was really good at it. In two-three months, I had already opened my atelier and now I joke that I first opened an atelier and only later learned to sew – I was still learning. I opened an atelier in Ozurgeti and choose to produce childrens’ clothes. Sewing covers many areas and I wanted to be a professional in one particular area. I still only sew children’s clothes and it works very well. In this process, I met one girl, Ana Maslova, who sent me the registration link to a social media and programming training and told me, maybe it could be interesting for me or helpful for my business. I’m very grateful to her because I would never be able to find this information by myself – I was sitting day and night by the sewing machine, cutting, and sewing. I filled out the registration form, sent it and I was rejected. Of course, I felt sad, but I thought it wasn’t my destiny. In a few days, the project trainer, Khatuna Rusishvili, called me and told me that one of the participants couldn’t attend and as it turned out, I was in the reserve group and if I would still like, I could join them. I was cutting a dress and, out of the joy, I dropped the scissors and I said – of course, I’d love to come! I talked to my husband and he always has such an attitude that “if you want to do something, do it, I’ll be by your side’’.

I had to attend training for four months, including in Tbilisi. I temporarily set my scissors aside and started the new job. If I do something, I always put my whole heart into it, and here too, I was involved with all my strength and motivation. During that period I had taken some orders and my mother helped me – she put the patterns and my girls from the atelier were sewing. The children were left with my husband and father-in-law. My computer was broken and my husband brought me a new one, handed it over to me, and he himself took care of the children. Then, when I came from the atelier and sat down to study, he would tell the children not to disturb me.

The learning process was very interesting. I wanted to study all the time. Before that, I didn’t even know how to create a Facebook page; I had a personal account, which I used for a business page as well. First of all, the best thing I did for my business was to make a page – I learned to advertise, set up the answering machine for questions, learned how to adjust settings, and so on. At first, I was a little scared of how I would do it, but I did it, I started and didn’t get up until four in the morning, I sat at the computer, and in the morning I already had my business page. Ozurgeti had a really amazing team, the girls helped each other, we didn’t sleep at night, and we were always online on our chat. We also found and did things that we hadn’t learned.

After the training, miracles start to happen – we knew that after the training, we had to get certificates, and they gave us an opportunity for an internship as well. I was among the forty best participants who did an internship in very successful companies. I got an internship at Lingwing, which is a very innovative and promising company with an amazing team. I did an internship in the field of social media. When the internship was over, I thanked them and said that I felt really sorry to say goodbye. ”You don’t have to say goodbye, stay with us!” – They said. I couldn’t imagine this would happen, usually, companies prefer to have an employee on-site, but for more than a year now, I’ve been working here.

After the internship, we were told that top three participants would go to a web summit in Lisbon. It was the largest technology summit attended by IT representatives from different companies from all over the world. I got into these top three and I achieved this on my own, my hard work was appreciated. We spent amazing eight days in Lisbon, we visited lots of great places – we saw the technology museum, the latest inventions… we traveled to every part of the city. We used every opportunity that could be used, we gained connections, knowledge. I also attended the workshop by Anna Vainer – ‘’I am remarkable’’. I liked this workshop so much that when I came back, I went through the online training and became a facilitator. When I came from Lisbon, I helped a lot of people. This is the coolest thing – when you learn something and then share, help, and teach others, it makes you happy. All this made me grow, I started in technologies from scratch, and today I already know a lot and I have to learn so much more… This is an inexhaustible topic. Since I did my business page, my income has tripled; before that, I took orders only in Ozurgeti, but now I already get orders from many different regions.

I haven’t felt stereotypical attitudes from anyone, but I heard something like this – one of the very talented girls wasn’t able to attend the training because her husband didn’t let her. when remembering this, it breaks my heart. Once another participant drove her home and she didn’t let him drop off in front of her home to avoid making her husband jealous. Finally, he made her quit training and I always think that maybe that girl could have done more than me and others and she couldn’t use her talent.

At some time, I had a complex because I didn’t graduate from university and I didn’t have a diploma. Then I realized that this paper means nothing. The most important thing is to always want to develop yourself. When you find yourself in a field that you couldn’t even imagine before, there’s such happiness. I advise girls not to give up; if they don’t succeed, they should try one more time. If they think that this is what they need and want, they should do everything to achieve that goal.’’

Author: Nino Gamisonia

Photo: Rezo Kvachadze / Geda Darchia

Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

‘’Ia Tavdishvili was one of the 124 participants in the women’s web development and social media marketing training program in 2019. The training program was part of the UN Women project “A Joint Action for Women’s Economic Empowerment in Georgia” funded by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Norway. The views expressed in the story are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily represent the views of UN Women, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Norway, United Nations or any of its affiliated organizations.”

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After the training, the UN Women announced a competition for graduates to attend the Lisbon Web Summit. The selection process coincided with a tragedy in my family – I lost my father and I felt so bad that I don’t even remember what I said at the interview. Later, I was called and informed that I was going to Lisbon. I was so happy because I knew it would be an opportunity for me to have a closer look at modern technological advances.

I already do this voluntarily. I already planned many projects and social media strategies for many start-ups. Women need motivation and support and also, many role models. Therefore, I consider it my personal responsibility to help and encourage them to take independent steps in the future.

The post Tamar Oniani, 25 years old, Nagomari, Guria appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

When the training was finished, 40 girls were selected for the internship. We had the opportunity to introduce our work; I was one of them. After the presentation, I found out that I got into Grapevine Marketing Agency – this is a marketing company where I could maximize my abilities. Since this company didn’t utilize WordPress yet, I started learning to code. As for social media, they let me manage several Facebook accounts and I was actually pretty good at it. Also, I used to sit down with designers and learn what they were doing. Then, I was told that if I learned web design, they would help me in development. I learned web design, already using my own funds, and I’m very happy that they gave me a chance to develop myself. I was on an internship for a month, and then I stayed at this company as a graphic designer.

I always had support from my family. My parents have always been proactive when I was learning something. When I decided to participate in the training, my sister quit her job to take care of my son. Later, my mother replaced my sister. My dad uses to say, how can you be learning something all the time? Take a break, have some rest. When I called him and said that I had some success and I’d be more successful in the future, he was very happy. They believe in me, they know that whatever I’m doing I’m doing it at my best level.

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Woman in a minibus

I’m a diplomat by profession – I studied the history of international relations. Nowadays it is a common practice, but when I was a student it was rare for a student to study and work at the same time. Our family didn’t have financial difficulties, but to gain experience, I worked for four hours a day as a store clerk on minimum wage. I also worked as a ‘’promoter’’ in Bank of Georgia, as well as in an insurance company. While working in the bank, there were layoffs, after which I stayed unemployed for 6 months. I didn’t want to have too much free time, so I decided to get a driver’s license. At the same time, I was involved in agriculture – I had a vegetable garden, I grew nuts; I was working physically – I cut firewood with an electric saw. I love working with the land. When I got my driver’s license, I didn’t think I would be training anyone in the future. Then my aunt also decided to get a driver’s license and started to take lessons in one of the driving schools. However, one day she came to me and told me that she couldn’t understand anything and would like me to help her. We sat down together and practiced, I explained each step in detail and she told me that I had to forget everything else and do this job since I did it so well. I went to my teacher and asked to let me prepare one or two groups. I would try and see what would come out. I taught these people and all of them passed the exam successfully. At that time, I was planning to move to Batumi, but because of this success, I decided to stay in Ozurgeti for three more months to work and leave for Batumi after that. During these three months, I also met my future husband – he was my student, he came from Tbilisi and it turned out we would both stay in Ozurgeti.

When I started this profession, I didn’t have my own car. I told my father, who had two minibusses at that time, that I couldn’t buy a car yet, so I’d get the appropriate driver’s license for larger vehicles and just drive the minibus. My father wasn’t happy with this news, since I was a woman and he thought I wouldn’t do great driving a car this size. In the end, I got the driver’s license and everyone got to know me in Ozurgeti as a ‘’woman in a minibus’’. So, I drove with my minibus absolutely everywhere I wanted. Once I was going to a wedding and I had to stop at the gas station. I was dressed up – in high-heeled shoes; the cameraman told me mockingly, don’t tell me now that you’re going to a birthday party. I answered that I was going to a wedding, and even if it was a donkey, it was the only transport I had and I would go with what I got.

I had also such a case – my students wanted to go to Kobuleti to have some fun. Back then driving a car without a driver’s license wasn’t a big problem, but even then, I had my responsibilities – even though some of my students were of the same age as me, or even older. I told them that they’d drink there and someone would have to drive them back, so, I’d take them all with my minibus and I’d go with them. They were happy about my suggestion and we took the trip. There were a lot of people in the restaurant. Suddenly one of my students stood up and made a toast for me – cheers, teacher Nino! Sometimes others would stand up and do the same. Some of them were bald, some of them were young, some of them old… People around couldn’t understand what kind of teacher I was. When we had to go back, my minibus engine didn’t work. I lifted the hood, fixed it and we could leave already. People were outside looking at me and finally, they said, thank god, now we can understand what kind of teacher you are.

Driving School

When I already had enough savings, I started thinking that I needed a car. I thought, if I buy a car, my costs will increase, I need fuel, oil, car parts… I decided to buy a car and to use it for work training as well. So, if it wouldn’t leave a profit, it would at least leave me with so much that I wouldn’t ruin my finances. I bought a car and we already started practical training. After that, I decided to get a driving school license, and then I could already train people in all license categories. I registered in 2011 and I’m still in this business.

My business began to grow slowly. I rented a field and made it look exactly like the exam field. However, I couldn’t afford the appropriate cover, because it costs at least 20-25 thousand GEL and I couldn’t do it on someone else’s territory.

Consequently, I started taking care of myself and wanted to buy land and organize my own exam pitch. I bought a land with a loan. Later, I bought a second car, then the third. In 2016, I became a leader in the field of national business ratings – I won third place in the gold nomination, in 2018 and 2019 I took the first place. This also increased my motivation. I’m even told that no one in Ozurgeti has the same enthusiasm as me. I don’t think that it matters where you live, you can do everything you want, anywhere you live.

I was involved in this job when our village governor called me and told, that one of the NGOs entered the village, I had to gather women and they needed one woman to lead. I went there and got to know with the Foundation ‘’Taso’’. On the same day, we created a women’s group – ‘’women’s Unity’’ and I was elected the leader. This is a self-help group for women’s economic empowerment and then we received a grant, with which we built a small library in the village, bought inventory, and arranged a teaching room. When we had a conversation there, I was told the same day that the Georgian Farmers’ Association had announced a foundation program. I needed equipment for the driving school, but I never thought that someone would help, I never complained about it, I always thought about how I could procure enough finances myself. In short, I took this step, it wasn’t a big grant – I had to buy touch screens, two tablets, a laptop, and a projector. Before I was selected, the ‘’Taso’’ Foundation-funded my studies at the Academy of the Ministry of Finance. I got an interview at the Farmers’ Association and it was so emotional for me that I started crying. I really couldn’t imagine that anyone would see that a small girl in Ozurgeti was doing something. It happened so that there were negative days in my life when they called and announced that I won. I got finances and bought the equipment I really needed. I was also funded to study branding and website design – I will soon have my own logo and website.

In this business, there are cases when other schools are making students learn the program within ten days or even in a week, and finally, we got catastrophic results. Once, I was at a meeting at the ministry and all the representatives of the driving schools were suggesting how the law should be applied to their business. Finally, I stood up and said that I’m from the smallest region and maybe the state will make such a regulation that my driving school will be no longer profitable for me, but the main thing is to save more lives, the health of people, and so make sure that nobody gets hurt. It’s more of a priority for me than to make my business profitable and not having to think about what happens to people when they leave my school. There are people who prefer to be taught in a week or in ten days. If you let them, probably 99% of them would buy the driver’s license – and I don’t mean teenagers, I mean adults. If the situation in the driving schools won’t get sorted out and this attitude doesn’t change, a new generation will be left without knowledge. I think that driver’s profession is very important and difficult, and we should care about it.

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Since I’m in the automotive business, I know all about cars. There are no cars that get repaired that I don’t know what happened to it or it broke down. In Tbilisi, in Kutaisi, and in Batumi I know all the car parts on sale. Recently, I decided to start car service. Wherever you go in Ozurgeti, whether it is vulcanization or car wash, there are no places for women. There are no places to sit down, and you have to stay on the highway. I’m not ashamed to do so, but is it nice when the car is being washed and you just stand on the highway and wait for it?! I want to make a small café there, where there will be a children’s corner, for mothers to enjoy. This is my future plan.

The stereotype that women can’t do everything, didn’t exist for me from the very beginning. I can’t imagine if I need to, why can’t I be a taxi driver, or if I don’t have a job, why can’t I work on the tractor – I actually have a tractor driver’s license as well. When my husband and I were in a relationship, in the beginning, I told him that I would never frighten my children. And he said that he hopes so too. I still joke about it. Nothing is impossible, I know for sure’’.

Author: Nino Gamisonia

Photo: Nino Baidauri

Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

Sometimes, just like learning new skills for the car service or even getting a tractor driver’s license, understanding tools such as how to use KMSPico can make handling software setups feel a lot less complicated.

The post Nino Tchanishvili, 35 years old, village Bokhvauri, Ozurgeti Municipality appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

The first two years were very difficult for me. I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone, I didn’t go out at all and I only let my mother in my room. My mother would come to my room and I would lie in bed. Our neighborhood priest, Father Shio, said that he would come to me. The first time he came, I didn’t let him in. He came the second and third time and slowly, he achieved so much, that I began wanting to attend church liturgies. For some reason, that environment had a great influence on me and I returned home calm. Later I found out that in our region there was a charity named ‘’Guria’’, which had a day center and it was the only adapted environment where I could move without restrictions. I joined this association. At first, I had a hard time communicating with people. I was a newcomer from home, but they met me warmly, accepted me to their pleasant environment. Every day they’d send a car for me, I would go there and it was like I had a job every day – I had to go somewhere. Then I discovered different talents in myself. It turns out that I have to sing, I have to draw, I have to do anything I can. Every day wasn’t as monotonous as before when I was lying in bed the whole day. I would get up in the morning, take care of myself and get out of the house, I learned something new every day and I accepted joy and faith back into my life. After that, I started living, slowly, step by step, until today.

Now I work as a volunteer teacher at the day center. I always wanted to be a teacher, I loved children. I’ve been in this organization for 10 years and for the last two years I’ve dared to volunteer as a teacher with children. These are children in wheelchairs or children with Down Syndrome, cerebral palsy, and so on. I help them improve their everyday skills. At the same time, I’m an operator in the EU project – ‘’Social Free Taxi’’. This is a free taxi that serves people with disabilities and those who are on dialysis. The program will last six months and when it’s over I want to convince our mayor that this is a very important and necessary project and to reserve the budget for it to continue.

When I return home, there are no sidewalks on the road. Sometimes the police walk up to me and tell me to get out of the road, or asks me why I walk alone. Maybe I want to walk alone and I don’t want to be with someone.

I often go to church, but I can’t go inside. Once, the priest told me that he would ask deacons to take me in their hands and bring me to the church. I don’t want that. I want to enter when I want, to pray alone and light a candle. I couldn’t achieve that. It just hurts me; the church should be more eager to make this environment accessible. But so far this is not happening for us. Probably because not a lot of people like me are bringing this issue into the light.

One of the problems is that if you go to the doctor and if someone is there with you, they push you aside and talk to that person about you. I had eye problems and went to the doctor with a friend of mine. The doctor completely ignored me, just told me that I needed surgery. Then she talked to my friend if I had parents and so on. I was so angry about it and expressed such a protest that I left the place immediately and never returned.

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Our mother, who was a very good, hardworking woman, raised us and she was a father for us as well. There were two of us – me and my older brother – they couldn’t have more children. My mother tried her best to ensure that we had everything we needed. But it was a very difficult time for us. If someone was in the war, his family received help; but no one would help the family of the repressed. My mother’s family helped us and that’s why we weren’t left hungry. People didn’t have a bad attitude towards us, both my mother and father had a very good reputation in the neighborhood and nobody harassed us, in the opposite – they supported us. Obviously, they couldn’t do anything for us, but, for example, the village chairman was always trying to help our family and tried to stand by our side.

That’s how I grew up. I was a very good student at school with good notes. I used to come out with reports, with different things… I wrote a report and the director of the school read it in front of the teachers. There was one woman and she asked the director – when she’ll read that report and people ask whose child’s report it is, what would he say? That she is the daughter of a traitor?! The director told me, with great reverence, that I wouldn’t be able to read it and gave the spotlight to some of my friends. I was offended, of course, but what could I do…

When I became 10, I took a picture and sent it to my father, who was also in the 10th year of his exile. During this time, many of the exiled prisoners died there, they were unable to withstand the conditions. My father told me later, that once they were punished to eat only 200 grams of bread a day and many of them died thinking about it –before, they were used to eating a whole bread in one meal. He was an economist and he was a very moderate person in everything, in life, in food… When I sent him letters, he would check it for mistakes and reply: here, you have to use a comma. He raised me from there.

In 1947, my father came back. A sanatorium was being built in Kobuleti then and started working there. In 1949, arrests started again for those who had been in prison in 1937 and also for those who had been prisoners of war and came back alive. They took all of them and arrested them. My father was also arrested and this time exiled to the Krasnoyarsk. Stalin died in 1953, was rehabilitated in 1955 and they told my father: ‘’you were right, we didn’t have to arrest you’’ and he was released. He spent 26 years in prison, in total.

He came back and then worked in Ozurgeti, in state-owned trading, for a long time. He died at 82. He endured so much torture but still lived until 82. Despite everything, he wouldn’t say bad things, in general, if he said something. Maybe he was so intimidated that he had to keep his mouth shut. He was not afraid because of himself, but more because of us – that nobody would hurt us.

A small part of his diaries remain. You can’t imagine what nightmares are described there. How they spent 11 days in hunger – only people from this district; only Georgians. In 1937 there were “troika” trials – they would choose who to arrest, without any reason. They arrested my father in the same way. One from this triad worked as a postman and he used to visit us. My father knew who he was – he would offer him to eat with us and drink wine. Of course, he would never say anything to him.

When ‘’Repentance’’ was filmed, my father had a cerebral leak and was lying in bed. My daughter was a student, she came to him and told him about that movie. He listened to her and said that it was too early to make such a movie – the persons portrayed and their descendants were still alive.’’ – Such a great fear was still prevalent in them…’’

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

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The etymology of the word ‘’Komli’’ (meaning smoke from a household) is very interesting and if we look thematically, it tells the story of strong, able women. To this day, the rural population is counted by counting households with smoke, each belonging to separate families in the village. The word comes from Georgian ‘’Kvamli’ (chimney smoke), meaning permanent smoke coming out of a house, in winter and in summer. The rising smoke means that there’s food being made there, there’s warmth, there are drinks, tea is brewed… extinguished smoke means that there is no fire, therefore there’s no household. Unfortunately, there are already too many of them in Guria. In central Guria and in the surrounding villages there are many closed houses, therefore, extinguished smoke.

At the end of the 19th Century, Lazare Chitaishvili lived in this house. Lazare had two daughters, of whom the eldest – Marta – was married to another Gurian – Razhden Sadradze. Razhden Sadradze’s family was very wealthy at the time – nowadays people would call them millionaires. He moved from the village Shemokmedi in Guria to Novorossiysk, where he lived owned merchant shops and wine cellars. They had 5 children and lived happily, but then you can imagine what communists did to them… They took everything, all of their children ran away. Mr. Lazare’s second daughter, Ana, was married in a nearby village. She had one daughter and two sons. When Lazare’s wife died, he realized that after his death the ‘’smoke’’ of his house would disappear, so he adopted her granddaughter, Marta, the daughter of Ana. There’s a mountainous village – Mtispiri, famous for its microclimate and vines. Lazare found a husband there for Marta – a strong young man named Pilipe Megreladze and that’s how we adopted the family name Megreladze. They lived happily, had one daughter and three sons. Three of them studied at the Kutaisi Pedagogical Institute, which was a rare story at that time. My grandfather met my grandmother there – a woman from the Loladze family. She was the director of Akaki Tsereteli’s house-museum. By the way, she was one of the first female museum directors. I also have a photo of a board meeting and between so many men, there is one young woman – my grandmother.

Out of four children, three got married in Kutaisi, and in the meantime, the Second World War started. At this time, the eldest son was in the army and died in the first days of the war. My grandfather wasn’t obligated to go to the war, but he still did – first he was wounded, and then came the news of his death. He left one child and a pregnant wife, who a while later gave birth to a boy. At this time, in the house, there was only one son left who hadn’t been called up for compulsory military service, and the elderly were left alone. My grandmother used to say, that her father-in-law, this two-meter-tall man, came down with a carriage to Sachkhere to take her. She already planned to go to Tbilisi as she was a widow and thought her brothers would help her raise children. This man came, knelt down and asked her to come with him and take these orphans and he promised to help her raise them so that the ‘’smoke’’ wouldn’t be extinguished. My grandmother couldn’t say no and she moved to her dead husband’s parents. After some time, the youngest son also returned and there was a split – since my father didn’t have a father and was an orphan, my grandfather strongly decided, that he should be the one to stay in the family and the younger brother should leave. This is how life went there – my father and uncle grew up, my aunt got married, my father got married and I was born and raised here as the only child.

Meanwhile, the ‘’happy’’ 90s came to us. Our house was robbed at least 17 times. They even took books and carpets, but my mother still kept everything by her teeth. By this time, I was already married and lived in Tbilisi. You know the rule – he who has a Gurian mother, is also a Gurian. My children love this place madly and we spent every summer here. We didn’t break the bond. When my mother turned 80, we realized that she couldn’t take care of all this alone. Also, we wanted to breathe new life into the place, rebuild the house, and slowly became homeowners.

Tea Road and Tea Tour

Tea culture is intimately familiar to us. My mother worked at the Institute of Tea and Subtropical Studies in Anaseuli. It was a very important institution in the Soviet Union. Graduated students came from all over the world to study here – from Congo, Sri Lanka, and India. I couldn’t understand back then, but later when I was in the USA and saw academic cities, I realized that it was a typical, high-level academic city with its kindergarten, culture houses, and shops… My daughter is married in the USA and my son-in-law is madly in love with Guria and Georgia in general. The idea of the tea road first came from him. In 2009, when he was still a student and came to visit us, he saw a deserted tea bush that lacked care and asked me what it was. When I explained, that it was tea, he answered – what are you talking about, how could there be a tea bush in Georgia?! I got so angry!

I took him to my mother and she told him the history of tea in Georgia. He researched it himself as well, found information about tea, and the next year when he arrived to ask for my daughter’s hand and the wedding was already planned, he asked us to buy an electric saw to restore the tea area. He started to recover the tea. My mother was arguing with him all the time, that the tea wouldn’t come back, nobody cared about it and that it was all nonsense. She asked him better to go with her to pick tomatoes from the garden. Grandma! – said he in Georgian – wait, they will come, pick it up and they’ll pay you to pick the tea leaves. That’s exactly what happened in 10 years. In the meantime, it has launched the Guria Municipal and EU project – ‘’Participatory Principles in the Development of Guria Tourism’’. We won a small grant there and with this, we organized the tea road and the tea tour.

The Wine Road is a very popular project in Georgia, everyone knows about it. People come from other countries because wine in Georgia has a wonderful, continuous history; it’s not just about agriculture or grapes, wine is a part of our spirituality and identity. But what about tea – is it any less an interesting story?! Wine is drunk by half the world, Muslims don’t even touch it, neither do some Buddhists and confessions. But you probably won’t find a person who hasn’t drunk tea in their entire life. Ergo, it’s interesting to know about tea history in Georgia. It’s acknowledged that tea first appeared in Georgia in 1847, when Vorontsov ordered to plant tea, interestingly enough, in Anaseuli, where a lot of Gurians had agricultural plots. The first tea was planted on a trial plot.

The story of Lao Ghonghao is a wonderful one – in my estimation, it was a great project. In 1860-1880, Batumi was a free-trading zone (Porto Franco). Shipments and people came and went, everybody, wanted to own land in Batumi. By this time, there were brothers Konstantin and Simon Popovs, who had split responsibilities in business – one went to India, the other to China, imported tea and sold it to the greatest houses of imperial Russia. Konstantin bought land near Chakvi, and detected that the land was the same red color as in China, where he bought tea. He had an idea – what if tea could grow here as easily as in China?! During one of the trips, he talked with a 23-year-old tea master and convinced him to come to Georgia with him. “Iveria” wrote: On 4th November of 1893, a ship arrived in Batumi – with Lao Ghonghao, his wife, two small children, his mother, and a myriad of servants and workers.

They brought Eucalyptus, bamboo, tea seedlings, and other stuff. Konstantin planted tea and found out tea could be grown here. He built Lao a house that still stands on 12th Ninoshvili street. This was the most beautiful house, with Chinese design elements, white marble floors, and, in the center, a large living room, stood a symbol for tea – three leaves, made from green gems. Today, cows and pigs roam the place, when it could be a unique center for tea, a Georgian tea museum. In 1898 there already were tea plantations and this man also built a factory, where tea was processed with English steam machines. This factory existed until the 90s when it was destroyed and sold in Turkey as parts.

In 1925, a new chapter began – the Soviet Union. Stalin decided to create a joint share company, “Georgian Tea” – he needed tea for in prisons and the army, so he began massive industrialization. They went to Lao and offered him to lead this effort if only he took Soviet citizenship. Lao answered that he was already too old and tired for this, and he preferred to return to his own country. They made him confess everything for pennies. He came here a young man and left an old man.

Already in the Soviet period, began the second stage in Georgian tea history. There was a scientist, madam Ksenja Bakhtadze, an academic, a selection of world importance. She led the efforts for 29 new Georgian strains, including ones for alpine climate – tea cultivated in Sachkhere and Tkibuli is overwhelming of this variety. The tea now cultivated in Turkey is this tea, taken from here. Here, this tea is cultivated using seeds, but tea only retains its original qualities when grafted or grown from branches, but when massive production started, nobody paid attention to that. All these tea that you see here is cultivated from seeds, that’s why it’s so bushy; Lao Ghonghao’s tea grew wide like a tree – when a seed dropped, it was removed in a hurry to avoid regression. Now there’s nothing Chinese left in local tea.

I tell this story to everyone who comes here. Then we go and see the tea bushes – most, especially young people, have never seen one. You’ll rarely find a person in Tbilisi, Kartli, or Kakheti, that has seen a tea bush. In my plantation, you can see 7-8 strains of tea: one with slim leaves, one with lightly-colored leaves, one has thick leaves, one is of more red-hued color, and so on. Then we pick the tea leaves with hats and baskets, teach them how to pick it. If the guest is staying for 2-3 days, he can watch tea processing himself, it’s a whole production. After that, he’ll wander around Gomi mountain, Ureki, Shekvetili, and when he returns, the excess water from the tea leaves has already evaporated and the leaves lend themselves easier; it’s essential for bending it. Then I let the guest bend the leaves softly, to avoid damaging the leaves, and they expand when you pour water on them. I have special glass teapots for this. Then it must undergo fermentation and, in short, guests can taste the tea that they themselves processed. If the guest can’t stay, we tell them all this and then go directly to the tasting. This is the tea tour.

Wine

Tourism isn’t just my main focus, it’s my and my family’s life. I want to restore the exact “Household smoke” that stood here at the end of the 19th century and at the beginning of the 20th. As the first order of business, I want to restore the wine cellar to its original state. Tea tour was the first project, but a “Komli” cannot exist without wine. My American son-in-law, of whom I’m very proud, got very interested in Georgian wine. There’s the single Georgian restaurant in Washington, D.C., called “the second embassy”. My son-in-low leads a Georgian table every last Thursday of a month, without any compensation – he tells toasts, presents Georgia, spreads the word about Georgian wine. Once he told me – Mother, I receive a lot of guests; isn’t it a shame we don’t have a vineyard? Let’s ask grandma to plant grapes instead of hazelnut. There was tea planted in the vineyard’s place. When we lost the biggest Soviet market, my mother planted hazelnut instead of tea like the majority of Gurians – it was easier to care for and more profitable. We cut down hazelnuts, brought a special tractor (I wasn’t here at the time), and my mother called me – she said I’d go insane by hearing this, but they discovered a Kvevri (large underground wine container made of clay) in the ground. When my son-in-law heard this, he celebrated it like the container was filled with gold. Now I have five grape strains planted – Sakmiela, Kamuri, Badagi, Mtevandidi, and Rtskilatubani. These are Gurian strains, there are lots more, but now I’m interested in Djani and plan to plant it.

This fall, after much coercing from my son-in-law, I made wine. He directly brought grapes to me and said: Mother, you have to make wine. What was I supposed to do?! With phone consultations, without a cellar or any tools, I made wine, Chkhaveri Rose. It worked. I sent 252 bottles today. My wine is named “Komli”.

Village problems and “Women against pit toilets”

As you know, in the village everyone depends on pit toilets. There was no central sewer system, was not and couldn’t be. In modern times, with all the washing machines, toilet bowl, cleaners and so on, all the chemicals go to the ground, which isn’t good, water gets polluted and so on. Previously, those pit toilets were used in a specific way, composted, they weren’t open like today. Now everyone wants to have an easy life; some people even told me to let everything flow to a river. That’s the prevalent attitude. Since this is a very important problem, we won a project in the UN Fund For Women, created an initiative group for women living in villages, and want to spread awareness about septic tanks, what it means and why it is important. We want other women to know, that we’re responsible not only for our but all the children and family members. We want to issue booklets. We underwent consultation with many experts.

In villages, irrigation is a serious problem. 42% of Guria is water, but we still have a water problem. I have a wonderful well, but during droughts, it still dries up. Not completely, but enough that it can’t cover all needs. Along the main road in our village, there’s a very large irrigation system that goes to Ozurgeti. Every time we asked, they said it would be too expensive to connect it to our village. There are countries that buy water from neighboring countries, and here we have such a situation. During Soviet times the piping was already put in the ground, but they didn’t have enough time and, during the 90s, all those pipes were sold for scraps.

There are almost no kids left in the village. The school is on the brink of closure. Moreover, this isn’t a village in the mountains – it’s 4-5 kilometers from Ozurgeti, but there’s no youth here. Healthy young women left to work, seasonally or completely, in Russia, Turkey, Greece, Italy, to care for elders and sick there. There are villages around here that when someone dies, there’s no woman to cry at the funeral. It’s tragic.

I want to use the sun’s energy to the fullest extent. I want to use my Kikvata flow for irrigation and not have to use artificial irrigation systems. I want to live in an eco-village, I walk around here and it’s like my ancestors dictate where everything is, where should I do things. I want to make everything like it was two centuries before, but with modern knowledge and approach.

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Lika Megreladze, village Tsitelmta, Ozurgeti municipality appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

I was 33 years old when my husband died. He had health problems and when we went to the doctor, it was already too late. I took him everywhere I could and with our support, he lived three additional years. His 42nd birthday was after his death. My eldest child was 16 years old. I had such a crisis, that my mother stayed with me for a year. It was very difficult for me to overcome this. I and my husband lived separately and now I was left alone with my five children. I couldn’t get used to this, but in the end, when I looked at the sad faces of my children, they were upset that they didn’t have a father anymore and their mother was in such a condition. I told to myself, Mzia, you are a strong woman! You give birth to five children, you have to take care of them and you don’t have to look at others in hope of help. I slowly got back on my feet. It was time for my children to study at a university and I was very sorry that couldn’t help – I didn’t have the strength to do it. We thought about how to find a source of income and how to feed ourselves.

I started making Churchkhelas, but I didn’t know how to prepare it. I thought I would squeeze the juice out of grapes, boil Tatara, and Felamushi and that was how you’d make a Churchkhela. But in fact, it didn’t turn out to be so easy. On the opposite, it turned out to be very difficult. It takes a certain amount of time, specific amounts in grams, etc… Once I made one, it was delicious and beautiful, but after I dried it, it would break. A whole Churchkhela sells good, but no one wants to buy a broken one and if they buy it, they want it at a low price. In a few months, I finally developed the technology and made a Churchkhela which was not going to break, nor crack or swell. It’s very difficult to convey how much I have struggled to achieve the desired result.

I started going to the Batumi Agro market. Here, there is a train stop by road, the train arrives and you can go to Batumi for 50 Tetri. I packed Churchkhelas in such a way that they were protected from damage in every possible way and put them in boxes. I would leave my eldest boy at home to look after the house and the younger one would come with me. I didn’t have a sales stand in the market, but when I arrived in the morning, I rented a table and put my boxes full of Churchkhela there. When I sold it, customers tasted it and since it was really delicious, they came back and would buy ten or twenty more pieces. There was such a queue and the people in the market became interested, saying there was a woman selling delicious Churchkhelas. There were complications with the price – they wanted it cheap, but I wanted to price it higher since I and my kids worked so hard; they were little and their hands were getting scratched with the Churchkhelas’ tips. I put my whole soul and heart to it. I introduced myself to everyone, I got customers which would sometimes even take some with them to sell in the shops. I was looking for a savior everywhere and in everything. It’s very difficult when you are a single mom for your children and you want them to have everything they want. That’s why I endured everything.

Now I have Churchkhela business, I produce and sell them myself. I take orders and that’s our income. I didn’t have the opportunity to do business outside the house, in the yard, I didn’t have the financial resources. So, we divided the land under the house and built it there. I have a well-kept and clean environment. I try my best to keep it this way so that when people come, they like what they see. Before the Coronavirus pandemic started, I was making 20,000 Churckhelas average per month and a half. I hired women to help me. What I’m doing right now is a drop in a bucket. I don’t have any equipment, we do everything by hand. I have a lot of different kinds of Churchkhela, with unique names. I make it with dried fruits, I make so-called ‘’wheels’’, classic Kakhetian Churchkhela, Churchkhelas without a thread, I also make some with pomegranate juice. I try to have a variety of choices. My churchkhela can be bought in Tbilisi, Kutaisi, and Batumi. I take part in exhibitions. Every autumn in Batumi, there’s a rural tourism festival ‘’Gandagana’’. Tourists come, people gather and I organize a tasting of my Churchkhelas. I prepare them on the spot and let the customers make it with their own hands, let them taste and sell. It all gives me great motivation.

If you are a hard worker, village life is just a great opportunity for it. We have to harvest everything we can. We have potato crops, sow seeds, nuts, and chestnuts. I make wine, I have black and red Adessa grapes, Chkhaveri. Seasonally, the boys move to Turkey to work. Because of the pandemic, I had less income, the markets were closed, and therefore I could only offer products to stores. I had less work to do and I was more involved in village affairs. I’m going to plant blueberry, raspberry, and blackberry plantations. I made gardens for cucumbers, beans, and tomatoes. We have healthy food grown at home. Now that the border with Turkey is closed and my youngest son has gone to work in Kakheti, he was picking strawberries and clearing the vineyard, now peach picking season is coming… They are helping me a lot!

I’m going to expand my business. I took courses at the Academy of Finance and I learned a lot there. Customers know my Churckhela by the name of ‘’ Mzia’s Churchkhela’’ and I want to have my product branded. There are a lot of people making Churchkhela in Georgia and I’m not afraid of competition. I always try to have new products on the market and have loyal customers.

I decided to make jams and compotes too. I’m going to produce honey and chocolate Gozinaki. And I will produce ‘’Mzia’s Gozinaki’’, as with the Churchkhela.

Everything needs a lot of money and hard work. My children and I have to deal with it. The hardest part is already in the past. Soon we’ll have our logo and a registered barcode. I have a lot of plans and I’m trying to move forward. When you see the results of your hard work, that’s the best feeling.

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Mzia Sharashidze, 46 years old, Village Tsikhisperdi, Municipality of Ozurgeti appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

Both of our parents suffered political repressions. Shortly after my father was sent to GULAG, my mother was arrested too. In those days, it was happening a lot – they uprooted entire families. In my father’s case, the pretext was that his brother was a refugee in France. Somebody told my uncle he was on the blacklist and they were going to arrest him. So, he escaped. Later he sent us a letter saying he managed to get to France through Turkey. Friends of his, who were members of The First Republic, helped him to reach there. There he died and is buried in the Leuville cemetery. There were spies all around back then. Somebody dobbed my father in as an unreliable person for the communist party as his brother lived abroad. Father was also a wealthy man and would lend everybody a helping hand. At this time of the year, my father together with the village elders used to open a granary to give out seed corn to the peasants. Father did a lot of charity – that was perhaps the reason why he was repressed. He didn’t reach the destination – his heart had failed him and he died on the way. He is buried in Ufa.

They’d brought some trumped-up charges against my mother, who worked as a secretary in one of the shopping centres, so following dad’s exile, she was also arrested. Having been released two years later, she returned home with bones disease and died the painful death soon after. I lived at my relative’s in those days. They’ve brought me to Bakhvi for her funeral. Being a small child, I could hardly realize anything. I was just nervously picking my skin. From then on, I used to often sit under the tree and cried why I hadn’t had a mother.

Escape of the sisters.

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These things happened in 1937-1938. My sister and I were very young back then. Our old grandmother, who was staying with us, suddenly had a heart attack and she also passed away. Two little orphans, we were left all by ourselves. My sister had to stay at one of the neighbour’s, and I was taken by a relative to another village. I, of course, appreciate they’ve done so, but the price was also high; I had to carry a heavy load, work all day and sometimes even get punched. I even hate to remember appalling conditions I had to live in back then. There was only a primary school in that village. Having left it, I went to school in Bakhvi. My sister also went there, and when we met, we decided to stick together and live on our own. I ran away from the relative’s home, and my sister left neighbour’s. We came to our parents’ house and started to live there. Before us they were renting it, letting in all kinds of people, so the house was an utter mess, robbed and filthy. Eventually, we managed to collect some stuff – some brought us a broom, some – a bucket, and so we settled in our home again. I was thirteen and my sister about fourteen when we started living alone.

We had a large yard full of grapes, other fruits and nuts, which we used to sell. Apart from that, the head of the collective farm turned out a good man; he opened a nursery in our house and paid us rent. In winter, when tea-picking was over, they were closing the nursery piling the furniture in one room, so that they could pay the rent in winter too, for us to have some daily bread. Later, parents’ house collapsed – this one has been built by my husband in the same yard, we just slightly changed its position.

Obstacles
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We lived all alone and would often leave the door open, but feared nothing. In the village, nobody has ever made us afraid. Quite the opposite, everybody was helping and supporting us. So we, two little girls, grew up with the help of the village and each other. After leaving the school, my sister went to university, graduated from the philology department and worked in this profession. I couldn’t continue studying as my student sister needed some support while in Tbilisi. So, I started working and helped her as much as I could. However, after some time I still managed to do a one-year clerical course here in Ozurgeti.

I’ve encountered obstacles while starting a job. For instance, one of the neighbours found a part-time typist’s work in the collective, but the chair hesitated. I found a job shortly after having done clerical courses, yet here I had to face challenges as well because I was a daughter of the repressed. Finally, the director found a way and appointed a cleaner officially; family members of the repressed could only do grunt work. And informally I’ve worked as a clerk at two places for many years – at the public school and Davit Andghuladze Music School.

New repressions
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I definitely do not miss the Soviet Union as the Russians have always been abusers, but I miss those living conditions. Nowadays, I feel more oppressed as I’m getting older. Back then they all used to feel for us, and now they often remind me I’m 80. For example, at the bank, when they find my age, it turns out I’m not allowed to take a 2-3-month loan. This happens all the time, they remind me every day I’m old and useless. Say, the government; couldn’t they spare extra 10 Gel pension raise for old people to buy medicines?! Medicines already cost a fortune, so now you tell me the difference between those repressions and this one. Thank God I have a good daughter and son-in-law, who work and take care of me. If not them, I wouldn’t survive. But what about people who don’t have anybody to support them? Nobody cares about us, peasants. It is peasants, who can work and provide this country if enabled. However, nobody would lend me money to start a farm on my one-hectare land. I’m capable of working physically, and I still work in my kitchen garden.

I feel no support from the government. Take this for example; they sent me to one of the practices assuring I was their patient according to my state insurance. As I went there, they told me in the practice they didn’t have ophthalmologist and audiologist – doctors that old people need most, not the ones to make them younger. Well, I went to another practice. There they told me I wasn’t their patient and I should’ve paid. Very well, you’ll pay what it takes, but then you have to wait in a queue to get the papers. Next, you have to queue to get to the doctor. Meanwhile, you’re getting so annoyed you don’t need any doctor anymore. Is it in the nature of things? Being a citizen of this country living in this particular region, shouldn’t I have a right to go to the doctor wherever I want to?! What kind of law is that?! Is it what happens in all the other countries?! It is because of those technical obstacles I haven’t used a penny out of the state insurance. They don’t have what I need anyway…

Author: Ida Bakhturidze
Photographer: Nino Baidauri
Translation: Nino Suramelashvili

The post Rusudan Chelidze, 80 years old, Upper Bakhvi, Guria appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.