Shortly before the pandemic began – in February, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Fortunately, it was the first stage, the metastases hadn’t spread to other organs, although it was still very difficult physically and emotionally as well. In February, I went with my friend – Irina Kurtanidze to Turkey, where I had the surgery.

The first emotion I had, when I heard about my diagnosis, was fear of losing breasts, which probably every woman who had this issue has experienced. In Turkey, a great doctor performed the surgery. After the surgery, when I opened my eyes, he came and told me, not to be afraid, my breasts were in their place. I’ve never seen such a good-looking doctor. When I was diagnosed and he sent me for an examination to rule out metastases in the brain, I sat in the corridor and I felt so bad that I didn’t even think about my breasts. My friend, who was of course, very nervous and always apologized for having to go through all this because of me, talked to the doctor. He told her that this was a very difficult period, my friend was alone there and now, she could count him as her family. He cared not only about me, but he realized that this was also emotional for people around me and took care of her too. Irinka told me that later and I cried.

During chemotherapy, my daughter took amazing care of me, she was coming and kissing me while I was sleeping. I think that this period has made Niniko a grownup. I tried my best so that she wouldn’t feel the fear of losing her mother; I kept telling her that nothing was wrong with me and I wasn’t in danger, and I know she believed me. My family also helped me a lot, my parents, my sisters. Right now, everything is fine, I have to check in again in November and I’m a little nervous.

The post Natala Chitiashvili, 34 years old, Tbilisi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

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 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.

Legend holds that my village was once inhabited by ogres. There are two related spots in the village. One was where the ogres arranged grand feasts and baked large pieces of bread. Bigger ogres sat at the bigger table, the smaller ogres sat at the smaller one. The second spot, situated a little away, was for evil spirits. According to the legend, the king of spirits lived there. He had the most beautiful daughter. Once a year there was a dance ball on a field in the village. The daughters of evil spirits were prohibited to approach the ogres. But one of them fell in love with a young ogre, disguised herself to speak to him without anyone noticing and the two pledged their love to each other.

Near the land of the spirits, there’s a place named “Sakakilao”. One of the ogres impregnated the spirit queen there; the spirit king knew that she shouldn’t give birth and locked her up in a castle. The girl cried her eyes out and died giving birth. Today there remains a lake at the spirits’ place called “Lake of the tears”. After this, the spirits left our village and disappeared; the ogres never came back.

The village is very small but has a very interesting history. There’s a pagan temple here, Iskelita. Even today there are people who come from the other villages and ask it for more cattle; they bring walnut and bean bread to it. When the cellular network was being installed and the tractor paved the road, we found some old ceramics in the ground. We took them to the museum in Tsageri; a group of archeologists came to inspect them and it was established that the ceramic remains were of Colchian origin, from V-VIII millennium BC. In the village, there is a church; its bell tower is dated to the second half of the 12th century; the church was built by the Greeks in the second half of the 19th century. The church served as a literary center, where books were written and translated. ‘’Vepkhistkaosani’’ was copied by hand in Nasperi. Before a school was opened, literacy was taught at the church. The village school has a long history too. I researched its history, found out some materials, found the people who introduced literacy to our village and opened the first school.

After returning to live in the village, life has been quite difficult for me. But as it’s often said – “Strength and growth only come through continuous effort and struggle.” When I stayed alone and had to be in charge of everything, I didn’t know anything at first but with time I learned everything together with my children. We grew together. I had to do physical work to survive. I’ve gone through a very difficult road. Since my children grew up, I hadn’t had a reason to touch any technical weapons – they do everything we need themselves. Right now they come over the weekends, but in summer and we work together all season. I think children should learn craftsmanship because, in difficult times, I survived by making mattresses for a living – that’s how I started. My children were good students, helped me a lot, helped me stay strong and that’s how my family came to be.

Besides my newfound work as a teacher, my attention was drawn to the endangered fruit tree strains. I have records about which apple strains were grown in my village, which fruits were popular, how they were cultivated. For some of these trees I’m still looking in the ‘’kolmeurneoba’’ yards, I’m collecting them and I want to let them grow in Lechkhumi again – Abelouri, Turashauli, Kinula apple, which could be stored till spring. When a peasant was going to work, he took these fruits to eat. I have a farm, cattle, pigs and my garden is full of veggies and fruits. I learned how to plant them. In spring I cultivate new seeds and sell them; I plant every vegetable that grows in Georgia.

Being in touch with land and nature led me to write new recipes for Lechkhumian food. I found Lechkhumian spices, sprinkled them and made a Lechkhumian, already forgotten spice – ‘’grandmas’ salt’’. I wrote down this recipe from my mother’s mother who passed away when she was 110 years old and she always prepared it herself at the fireplace. This is a mix of vegetables, which were made by Lechkhumian housewives in the autumn and was used in the winter until green herbs appeared.

I do everything with my own hands. I have two traditional grindstones. We don’t need blenders or any other tools. I want to do everything in the way it was always been done. I want Leckhhumian people to go back to their traditions. the process of preparing Adjika was also interesting. Lechkumian Adjika was created to be taken within the mountains – when people were going in the mountains and took cattle, housewives let them take something that would last longer. Adjika was prepared in May-June that’s the time when we have a lot of green herbs. It’s made from herbs, garlic, and nuts last longer and retains its ingredients. The old Lechkhumian tradition of producing oil is also very interesting. We harvest a lot of walnuts and it grows fattier here than in any other place. I found some old records and learned how to produce walnut oil, which is more delicious and healthy than any other oils. My family has been producing Khalami (ceramic bowl) cheese and pickles for a very long time now. Not every cheese can be put in the Khalami, it has its own rule – summer cheese is stored in the ground in a ceramic bowl, which is stored in the second section of the cellar, in a so-called ”dormitory”, which gets closed and is only opened on the last week of Lent.

After this, I attended the Oni Agro Festival, for the first time. The representative of the information center of Racha-Lechkhumi and Kvemo Svaneti got information about my activities and decided to visit me at home to get to know me. I wanted to represent Lechkhumi and that was the reason why I wanted to participate in the Festival. I had to find something about Lechkhumi to tell people what Lechkhumi is. Lechkhumi has his own cuisine, its name, its place. I took sauces, Adjikas, ”Grandmas salt”, dried fruits, shashlik, which I made from pork meat, good quality food so that everything would be delicious and put on the table. I didn’t even know that I had to sell the products, I just took them to present. Everything was sold out and it gave me the reassurance and motivation to produce and sell. If I hadn’t gone there, I couldn’t realize this.

Now I want to build a brand. My dream is to build a kitchen house, to have a simple wooden house in the village. My goal is to employ women and engage them in this field. Also, I decided that women from my village have to study English. This will be useful to meet our foreign guests, to understand what they want and how we can provide the best customer service. Tsageri district government helped me in this. Twice a week, a teacher comes to the village and gives us lessons. Currently, there are eight women in the group and men are encouraging these women to learn. Men help with children and they don’t have a problem doing it. I want these women to be involved in the spice and Tkemali realization as well. As a result, people will not leave the village and there will be a desire and purpose to stay.
My morning starts at 6 o’clock. As usual, I wake up by myself, without any alarms. In the morning, I take care of cattle, pigs, and chicken. I have 7 cows, if I have to collect milk, I do so – I clean the place, give them food… I prepare a meal for my mother and then I prepare for school. Working in the school is the best part of my day. I call my students sunshine and they really are. When they make mistakes, I say that the clouds are covering their light and I’m here to help to bring them better weather. These students are the future of my village and I believe that every one of them will be even more successful than I am.

Now I have 3 students whom I teach a complex curriculum – in the first and third grades. In the village, there are places, Nazandurebi and Nakhorgali, where we planted varieties of wheat. I’m looking for young people, who will plant wheat – my students are actively involved in it. Any plant needs love to grow. I can’t live without them. The main thing is to teach the student how to love. When they see your love, they give back twofold.

Love gives me the greatest strength. Your attitude must be formed by love in any job. To work with the soil – that’s love. The land is a living organism, part of you, your protector, who gives you food, drinks and helps grow your children. This is a long road I went through. There’s a saying that every woman needs a home, but I can’t imagine Lechkhumi without warm homes. It wouldn’t exist without them.

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

The post Khatuna Ghurchumalidze, 44 years old, village Nasperi, Tsageri Municipality appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

There was a chicken farm here before and until the village was being built, some of the villagers were accommodated in the dorm – and even that with the help of locals. Construction went on for 2-3 years, but meanwhile, the Soviet Union collapsed, everything stopped and the village was never built. Anyways, we had to leave Adjara, as geologists concluded that our village was not suited for living. People who came here started producing goods and decided to finish building the village. None of the houses were finished – a part of them wasn’t roofed, and the rest totally unfurnished. People started living there in such conditions and continued building their homes on their own. We were luckier since we had eight children and because of that, we were given a large house in Bolnisi’s center.

We have been through hard days — there were long lines for bread and, to add insult to injury, it was baked with flour of such a terrible quality that somehow the bread looked green. Even dogs wouldn’t eat it. My mother-in-law cried frequently – how could she feed this to children – and she baked cornbread instead. It turned out that the families had only themselves to rely on. Some people went back, but there are no living conditions, no pastures and even the corn harvest is dismal. There’s an even worse situation – here we at least have some pastures.

I’m an economist by education. I don’t know how I managed, but even though I had 8 children, I was always working. I gave birth to my last child when we were already moved to Bolnisi. Our whole family worked and studied at the same time and life went on. Nowadays none of our children live with us – some are in Tbilisi, some in Batumi and some are no longer in Georgia.

Our situation somehow improved after some donors got interested in the lives of eco-migrants. For example, in 2014 we united with 5 families to form a cooperative. Because of the Soviet Union experience, there’s some mistrust in cooperatives. In fact, the cooperative receives a lot of tax benefits from the government – we don’t pay the personal or corporate income taxes. However, these benefits are temporary and will last until 2020. If the taxes overwhelm us, our situation will get more complicated and in general, those taxes could kill the idea at birth. We work this way – if we have to make a decision regarding the cooperative, we all meet, discuss it and make the final decision together.

We, as a cooperative, bought this building that was old and in ruins. In the same period, within the framework of an EU-backed project, we got our plans for a dairy factory financed – producing milk more profitable to us as a breeding community. With the help of this project, we added a second floor, bought sterilizers, various installations and other equipment for the enterprise. People here have always bred cattle, but selling the product was an issue. People had to take dairy every Sunday to the market for selling, but sales weren’t guaranteed and they struggled a lot. We improved this situation because we take goods from them and then manage distribution as needed.

We can’t say this cooperative made us rich – we still have to handle a lot of problems or turn a good profit, but we’re employed and get paid. In addition, we are shareholders and in case of a profit, we divide it equally. Everyone interested in natural dairy products is our customer. At this point, we’re regularly distributing our products to some supermarkets and restaurants. The product is called ”Disveli” and our niche is quality. However, our main problem is that we can’t compete on price with products made from powder. Therefore, sales remain the most difficult stage of our operation.

Various organizations have also helped us, like CENN and we participated in many training courses. We knew how to handle cattle and milk before, but we had to actually integrate new systems. What’s done in the family in a small pot, can’t be replicated in 700-800 liter pasteurizers. We learned the knowledge and skills of market product development from these training and from visiting other enterprises that shared their experiences. We really internalized everything we learned and we even introduced a self-managed quality control program. We’re in constantly developing ourselves. We’re looking for different opportunities to make our enterprise more profitable to improve own families finances and to be able to better help our village. When we’ll have enough income, we want to take care of the village gardens, roads and support programs for the students. This is also cemented in our corporate guidelines that we’ll spend 5% of the profits in rural development projects. It’s important to feel that we are a collective and we know we’re doing a good job for somebody else.

Until that we’re battling many problems. Since the building is two-storied, it is uncomfortable to constantly bring the products up and down. So, we want to add a new hall for easier production. We got credit from the bank, but obviously, we still need some support from donors. For example, we want to have solar panels for warming the water, since our electricity bill is too high and it’s a heavy burden for such a small enterprise. We really need support in such things. If any organizations would want to offer support, it will be a great help for our development. We hope that in the future investors will also be interested to invest money, then we’ll be able to expand our enterprise and the cooperative will begin to turn a profit.

Now we’re going through the hard stage of labeling. We want the labels to show that this is a natural Georgian dairy product. For this, we need various expensive lab studies, but without them, we can’t bring our product to market.

By the way, we have a very busy schedule and since the project was started by women – to be exact, five women and one man – it’s women who work the most. We start at 11 AM and finish when the products are sent, which is about 2-3 AM. Therefore, we have a schedule and every four days one girl has a day off. Besides working here, women have their own household chores to take care of, and some don’t really have substitutes there. We don’t really get any time to rest.

Author: Ida Bakhturidze

Photographer: Salome Tsopurashvili

Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Meri Makharadze,68 years old, Bolnisi (village Disveli) appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

,,The home of Zanduri’’

Zanduri is one of the species of wheat, endemic to Lechkhumi. Some say that all strains of wheat are based on Zanduri’s genes. There are no sources of nutrition on earth more important than wheat and if we consider the genetic makeup of global wheat may be standing on Zanduri’s shoulders, then every grain of Zanduri must be worth its weight in gold. As far as we know, Zanduri’s seed was exported from Lechkhumi, but its grain mutated, it’s not the same as before, because it got its strength from the nutrition and nourishment this land gave to it. The primary reason why I got interested in Zanduri is that it originated in Lechkhumi. Lechkhumi isn’t as well known and it’s not prominent in Georgia, so I think that would help putting Lechkhumi on the front. My grandmother often talked about the Zanduri bread and it stirred my love from the very beginning. Levan Ozbetelashvili, who works in the Botany Institute, gave a small lecture abour Zanduri, which I attended with my children. I thought, at first I would collect the ethnographic material which was related to Zanduri – how it was cultivated and after that I could develop thoughts and ideas. We started to get some materials – some of that I had at home, in the family. Then I checked with my neighbors, started to discover some more with my children in different villages. These items – shnakvi (the tool for wheat), dzghavi, kakaba (wooden base of plough mouldboard), kevri (a tool), kavi (the hanger), tsipkha (the basement storage), aren’t used any longer. For example, tsipkha is a lechkhumian vessel, made from wild cherry skin, with beautifully braid sides and looks amazing. I hung all of them in my barn and that’s where the name ‘’the house of zanduri’’ comes from. The ethnographic material is already collected and it’s really pleasing to the eye, but the main point is to actually get the wheat harvested and bake bread from Zanduri wheat. There are practically no seeds, we barely got some, which I’ve planted and I’m very carefully taking care of it.  We are waiting to get our first harvest to make a whole field from it. I’m trying to make this popular and maybe win nihilist people back too. We have a very large resource base, which we are not using at all. Our people shouldn’t even called lazy, their whole psyche is destroyed. They are going abroad to work for money, then when they come back all this money goes in restaurants, flats or in real estate. They could invest this money in their villages, build fruit gardens, plant vineyards, do anything… I have such plans and I want to make it real – I want to plant wheat fields, harvest them and sell the product. I think there will be people who’s interested. I’m pretty sure time will come when Bio products will be in demand, I really hope so. I’m planning for the future, I want to get the next generation interested, and who will then continue my job. I’m not only doing this for money, but for Lechkhumi and its development.

‘’The house of Zanduri’’ will aid ecotourism development in our village. The tourists will have something to see. Here’s a vale I want to build the ethno-village in, with a small Lechkhumian house with vintage balconies and fireplace. I want there to be little huts and relaxation desks. I may put the first brick in the wall, but I don’t have much finances to finish it, it all requires large amounts of money. Maybe if the government saw it this way, aren’t they people too? Maybe they’d be interested. They’ll see that I already did something and it’s not just empty words… I have to do a lot of the work, but I won’t spare effort.

Since I’ve found these old tools, I’m always thinking how they’re all made with love. We didn’t held to the same symmetrical principles, haven’t retained the same love and care, so creativity diminished. The place where they got this stones is at least 15-16 kilometers away from Khvamli and one can only imagine how much they’d have to struggle bringing them home to make their homes beautiful. They had this motivation and we – we have lost it. Maybe we can restore it.

When I was a kid I wanted to be a tractor operator. When I bought a tractor, I joked that one of my dreams had come true. The cultivation of apple orchards was a childhood dream as well. When my husband passed away, I bought Panta apple seeds and cultivated it. It was hard work; my children helped too. As it turned out the seeds weren’t ripe and we didn’t get any harvest, I failed. Then I got visitors from an NGO and they promised to help with the irrigation system. I didn’t believe they’d really do anything but I still wrote a project; that was a lot of responsibility for me and it wasn’t easy. I bought some seedlings in Gori, settled the land and plant it. The soil was hardened, we barely dug out the holes. I took a great care of the seedlings, like they were my children. The first time it yielded fruit, I brought my neighbors to see, I couldn’t be happier. I went there at least ten times a day to snuggle the trees. I can still picture the first two red apples. Then I planted tomatoes, bell pepper and eggplants. On every fifth day I brought 200 liters of water and also sprayed pesticide. It caused my eyesight to degrade. Then I planted onions and garlics in 60-meter rows; it was tiring to even cast a glance from start to end. Digging the ground was not easy, the soil was still hardened and I the physical pain almost made me cry. But when I looked at my results, I was at my happiest; I still get chills when I remember that feeling.

I have a honey bee farm too. I was hysterically afraid of them, I couldn’t get close to them and my husband took care of them. After my husband’s death, my father continued his job. But bees don’t like to be cared by someone else. They need care like a baby does. I couldn’t do anything because of my fear and after some time the farm was ruined. Only 4 of the original 23 apiaries remained. One of my friends promised to help to keep them. I reluctantly agreed, since I knew how much work it entailed. He came to help several times. He helped for a year, then I shied away from asking him again, and decided to risk taking care of it by myself. At first when I was close to it I was shaking anxiously, then I started searching for more information on the internet. I decided to bring out the ‘’mother bees’’ from the apiary. Bringing out the mothers is similar to doing a c-section. After the first try I was so stressed I couldn’t move for 3 hours. It’s not physically hard, but emotionally. Now I have 54 apiaries. I worked really hard, got results and now I have plans for the honey bee farm as well – I want to produce bee milk and nucleus. I’m also selling honey. The Georgian government didn’t prioritize beekeeping and doesn’t support this industry. I created all this at great expense.

My husband passed away 14 years ago and after that I’m doing everything on my own. When I was 14-15 years old, I was afraid of many things – frogs, snakes, butterflies, and darkness. I was also lazy and if anybody asked me to bring water, I claimed to be too scared to go to the spring. I’ve been told by many that I’m lazy and my whole life I’ve tried to fix this complex with hard work. I really am lazy by nature, but I also have a sense of responsibility to my society. I have to be right to myself and when I do, then I’m happy. If I do something wrong, I can’t find rest, I cried a couple of times because of that. Regret is hell, they say, and I’ve had my share a lot of times, be it because I said or did something wrong.

I don’t follow the village day routine, I work and struggle every day. I wake up at 8 o’clock in the winter, scroll the Facebook quickly to cheer me up, then I get up and start working. I love the morning droplets on grass the most, looking like diamonds; I take their pictures. I also love to be busy around bees. But the biggest energy I get is when working on the land.’’

Author: Nino Gamisonia
Photo: Nino Baidauri

The post Manoni Akhvlediani, 48 years old, village Ghvirishi, Tsageri municipality appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

My family had deep generational knowledge in the winery, for example, my grandfather was an agronomist, my father was making wine, my brother also understood the basics. Over time, I fell in love with the vineyard and interacting with it. So I decided to try my fate.

First I started with cultivating vine and built a vineyard. Initially, I was working with seedling farms, which was founded in our village. I began working there, then I took some vine seedlings as compensation and planted 500 seeds. The next year I added 200 more and at the moment I have 700 vines I’ve cultivated myself, 5 and 4 years old. They’re already giving yields.

In 2017 with the help of my friends, I issued my first batch of bottled wine. In 2018, I issued a small part of the harvest, which I’ve fermented without underground wine jars. By the end of March, I’m planning to open my underground wine jars and from May I will probably have jar wine too. Due to our location (Tvishi is a microzone), the wine naturally becomes semi-sweet, as it always has. Lately, due to a changing climate, like for example my batch of 2018, it has begun taking on more of a drier taste.

I already started distributing my wine. Right now, I’ve already cooperated with a wine-bar in Kutaisi. I already have offers from Tbilisi and Martvili, as soon as I open my jars. Now I’m planning to issue a batch of 700-800 bottles, but in the future, of course, the amount will increase and I’ll go to 1000-1500 bottles.

I had a project presented at “Enterprise Georgia”, for opening a cellar and a guesthouse, which got rejected. As they explained, they’re not financing guesthouses anymore.

Living alone represents some kind of love by itself. I love this place so much that I’d rather be here, than anywhere else. I feel happy. I never procrastinate, more so I am working day and night. With the help of my parents, I take care of my house and yard; I couldn’t handle this on my own. I never considered leaving this place; so many of our ancestors worked hard to get this place to what it now is; I don’t think it’s right to disregard the fruits of their labor and flee to the city.

After my grandma died, my folks demanded I move to the city, and not live here by myself but I prefer to be here, take care of my yard, than having nothing to do in Tbilisi.

For some period of time village life for a woman was difficult. Moreover, the winery is associated with men. People questioned my choice of staying here. But now, if anyone needs anything, like splitting wood or mowing the lawn, I’m the one they call. There are not a lot of youth in the village left. Everybody living here is old.

It’s hard taking care of vine. The soil must be processed in the Spring, then the vine canes need pruning, the pest control is the hardest part — the machine is heavy; then there’s green work, budding grapes and all that. My family helps in whatever is too much for me, for example, my brother helps me spray pest control. I do the pruning alone. I don’t let anyone else prune.

There are a lot of everyday problems in the village. There’s no road, no grocery stores, we warm ourselves on an old-school heater; the plumbing is a mess too.

At the end of May, there’s a woman winemaker’s expo in the Netherlands planned, where women from different countries will take part. The exhibition is called “Wine and Women”. I plan to go there as circumstances allow. I’m one of the 12 woman winemakers who is attending from Georgia. I’m the only women making wine in Lechkhumi. I personally know one in Racha, who’s producing Rachian “Black”. It’s a black wine, Khvanchkara.

Women who are considering getting in this business, I would like to tell them that the most important part is not getting intimated. There’s a hard road ahead, with lots of problems and barriers, but with motivation and will you can make it happen. When the customer acknowledges you, likes your product and is satisfied, that will be your biggest stimulus and joy to continue doing the job you love.

The post Miranda Chkhetiani, 33 years old, Village Tvishi, Tsageri Municipality appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.

I was born in Kazbegi. My father had three girls and was disappointed he didn’t have a boy. We girls were doing everything not to make him feel the lack of a son and weren’t doing bad ourselves either. Nowadays, as he sometimes tells me, a son wouldn’t be as resourceful as me.
I studied at the economics faculty and then worked for a long time in the Revenue Service in Rustavi, until my husband moved to Kakheti for work and I had to leave my job to move with him. My father also partially influenced me to follow the man’s lead. I was distanced from my work while I lived there, and when I and my husband separated after living together for 12 years and I returned to Kazbegi, I found it hard to find my place and realize myself.

I was 36 years old when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I can’t say I took it as a tragedy, but my sisters and other family members took it pretty hard. I remember, when my little sister cried before the surgery for the first time, this was a big shock for me and I realized then that life could end shortly. My mother, taking my emotions into account, wasn’t discussing it with me — I was doing the same. This disease was like a gift to me – I had to come out of my shell and go somewhere. The most interesting thing I found was the feeling of the significance of a human as if everything else loses its meaning. I become more empathetic and forgiving.

After the surgery, I had to undergo several chemotherapy treatments. I remember, when I was rejuvenating, I needed to talk to someone a lot, and my sister helped me with that. I constantly thought about the future, what I would do, how I’d get my self-confidence back and where to find my place.

Once, in summer, tourists visited me from Israel and asked, “Do you have a shower?” — they conveyed in gestures what they meant. They stayed in my home for a few days and then, they were sending more tourists the whole summer. That’s how I tried my fate in tourism 7 years ago and got successful in it too. I always tried to improve my house to make it more comfortable for my guests. It’s really interesting that in the beginning, it was hard for me to look at tourism as a business since hospitality has always been our habit and how could we take money for that?!

One more barrier was my lack of knowledge of English. I used to gesture a lot and my foreign guests and partners also helped me with that. In general, I feel very comfortable when I have business relationships with women, business done with them always gets to the end and successfully, too. We have similar experiences and better understand each other’s struggles. I remember one summer I had a lot of guests. I was working alone back then and had to do everything by myself – cleaning, cooking dinner. One evening when I went to the kitchen to wash a pile of dirty dishes, my guests, girls, told me: Ketino, you’re tired, go get some sleep. I thought I would lie down for the night and take care of the dishes the next day. In the morning, I found the whole kitchen clean as a whistle and a note with a smile that had “kiss” written on it. I realized this was the girls’ doing. I put on red lipstick, kissed the paper and put it back. We had so much fun that morning. That’s how I slowly started to learn and remember English words. Now I can talk on the phone and get the other side to understand what I’m saying, and I can understand them too.

My life’s interesting. I haven’t been to every country, but the countries are coming to me and I get to know their culture and people. A Ukrainian cook, famous in England, Olia Hercules, wrote in her famous culinary book about my Mokhevian dinner receipts and published them together with my pictures.

Tourists often ask me where our men are, because only me, my mom and my sisters are handling the business. I have my own explanation: During the Soviet Union, our men used to live like kings, easily earning money and taking care of the family, then the union dissolved, there were no jobs, and men no longer understood what to do. It was the women who took charge to save their children. If there’s any reason Georgia survived in this period of time, it’s only because of Georgian women’s persistent care for their families. The hospitality business is still led by women.

A few years ago, a local development group was created in Kazbegi, based on the experience of the EU countries, which I became an active member of. Through this group, the local community is involved in solving the village’s problems. This approach enabled locals to do a lot of things. Our experience is very useful and municipalities would be wise to bear it in mind. Since we’re surrounded by everyday life here, we can understand the village’s needs better. By my own initiative, we have solved the garbage problem in the Gergeti road turn, added garbage bunkers, numbered the streets. Now we have the initiative to make Kazbegi more attractive in winter by creating a skiing ropeway. The main challenge is to get the local government to listen and believe us.

I’m now planning to create a women’s club in Kazbegi. Women in the regions find it difficult to communicate with each other because there are fewer places for women to gather. I’d like to create a place where women can go and have a heart-to-heart conversation, sit down and talk, share ideas and teach each other stuff. When ideas are born, it’s women who make them come to life and we need a place to share them. We women work hard and need a strong foundation for improving rural life.

Also, I would like to create a rehabilitation center in Kazbegi for women with cancer. I know how difficult it will be – if you are not strong enough and have nobody at your side, it’s hard to get the hope back in your life. I want to speak to such women, provide information and be in touch with them, I want to bring them the will for life back and help them find their way, as I myself did once.”

Author: Maiko Chitaia
Photo: Nina Baidauri
Translation: Mariam Kajrishvili

The post Ketevan Sujashvili, 51 years old, Kazbegi appeared first on WomenOfGeorgia.