Travelogue 10: Georgia and Armenia
I had the opportunity to visit these two countries, which have some very distinctive characteristics. Geographically they are in Asia, but culturally they are part of Europe. They are a truly unusual combination, a transitional territory where at times one can feel as though one is on one continent and at times on another. Both countries were also part of the Soviet Union, a past that has left traces in the culture and identity of their cities.
Tbilisi, Georgia
This city was our base throughout the four-week experience. It stands on the banks of the Kura River and has a level of development that I would describe as intermediate. Its architecture spans a wide range, from old medieval stone buildings with Persian influences and its characteristic houses with wooden shushabandi balconies to Art Nouveau buildings, Soviet brutalism and futuristic constructions. A range of hills shapes the valley containing the historic district, very close to where I stayed.
My neighbourhood was Avlabari, across the river from the historic district. I could walk to the tourist area in 15 minutes. We stayed in a very recently built complex of flats and shops, which meant that we had an almost new and fairly comfortable flat, with a balcony overlooking the hills. There was a supermarket in the same complex, which was very convenient.
One complaint I have about the city is how dreadful it is to get around on foot. The city seems designed exclusively for cars, with pedestrians relegated to an afterthought. Pavements are often in poor condition; in some places they are interrupted, making it necessary to cross to the other pavement or step down and walk in the traffic lanes. Pedestrian crossings are scarce, often forcing people to make detours just to reach the other side of the street. There are few traffic lights, which means that crossing many streets requires throwing oneself into the flow of cars and hoping they stop. Motorists do not seem very happy to let pedestrians cross. To cross many avenues, one must use underground passages with commercial spaces, a measure that might seem well-intentioned but merely forces pedestrians to climb up and down stairs so as not to disturb the ceaseless flow of the owners of the city: the cars. There is no infrastructure for bicycles or other vehicles that aid pedestrian mobility, except for a single cycle lane I found, which was unprotected and not used at all. None of these shortcomings seems to result from a lack of resources, but rather from a lack of pedestrian culture. Getting around by car also looks like a nightmare: everywhere and at all times the traffic was slow and filled with the desperate sound of horns. Travelling by car means enduring an incessant traffic jam from point A to point B.
The Tbilisi Metro is an adventure. I used it on many occasions, and it feels very different from metro systems elsewhere in the world. To use it, you need a card that can be bought at the stations, which is similar to other systems, but the metro itself feels very different. It begins with the incredibly long escalators at some stations. Unlike other underground systems that use several escalators over multiple levels, Tbilisi usually has a single, very long escalator whose journey lasts two minutes—I timed it. I noticed that many people tend to sit on the escalators during the ride. The carriages generally look well maintained, but the noise made by the moving trains is striking, probably because of a combination of excessive vibration, insufficient cushioning of the tracks, inadequate soundproofing inside the carriages and speed. Because the stations are so far apart, the trains reach high speeds, accelerating and braking very abruptly and constantly jolting the passengers. Every metro journey feels like a disaster waiting to happen. On a few occasions, the train started moving before all the passengers had finished boarding, with the doors still open, or the doors opened on arrival at the station before the train had come to a complete stop. Men tend to give up their seats to women, and young people to the elderly—not to the striking extent I witnessed in Rio de Janeiro, but often enough to notice.
Something else that caught my attention is that the city sporadically suffers widespread power cuts which, according to what I read, actually occur throughout the country. From what I found, they are a common occurrence for which the government provides absolutely no explanation. I do not know whether they result from excessive demand for electricity caused by air conditioning, but in a region with such an extreme climate, power cuts sound more like a danger than an inconvenience.
The language
Georgia’s language is Georgian, one of the Kartvelian or South Caucasian languages, and one of its most distinctive features is its own alphabet, the Georgian script (ქართული დამწერლობა). Some people speak English or at least understand it. Those who do have varying levels of proficiency: some seem to understand it but cannot speak it and know only one or two words. Many do not speak English, making it necessary to use a translation app or communicate through gestures.
The people
Months before visiting Georgia, I researched and asked around in various travel and digital-nomad subreddits. Across different forums, I received virtually unanimous warnings: the people were curt, cold, rude, racist, ill-mannered, discourteous, surly and indifferent. I am happy to report that the warnings I received so frequently bore no resemblance to the reality I experienced. In my case, people were at least cordial and sometimes friendly. On a few occasions I encountered people who were cold or surly, but no more often than I have in other countries.
My first interaction after leaving the airport on arrival was with the driver of the Bolt we requested to take us to our flat. The man did not speak a word of English, but through gestures he opened the boot, helped me load the suitcases and set off. Again using gestures, he asked whether it was all right to leave us at the spot where we were, helped unload the suitcases and said goodbye. I imagine some people would interpret that as curt or cold treatment, but if a person cannot speak a language you share, how can you expect them to chat? Smiling does not seem to be an important part of their culture either. These are things one must understand to avoid feeling bad about every interaction. One is the guest, speaking a different language and coming from a different culture. One is the person who must adapt.
In general, however, I had very good interactions because there are some very friendly people. On one occasion, we were trying to choose a wine in a shop when a promoter for one brand offered us a sample. Of course, he was a salesman, but beyond making the sale he asked where we were from. He thought we were Italian; we told him we were Mexican, and he said he was learning Spanish on Duolingo. We talked for several minutes about Mexico and languages, and he asked for advice on words he could use with Spanish-speaking customers, and so on. We did take one of his brand’s wines, but when he later saw us looking for a cheaper second bottle, he did not hesitate to recommend one from another brand that he thought we might like. On another occasion, at the till in a supermarket far from the tourist area, the cashier became excited, I think, by the opportunity to use his English. Once he had finished ringing us up, he asked where we were from, and his face lit up with a smile when we said Mexico. He told us that his sister had travelled to Mexico three times and loved it. This may also be another instance of something I have found in practically every country I have visited: saying you are from Mexico automatically earns people’s goodwill. Everyone likes Mexico; they have visited or want to visit, but even if they know little about the country, they like it. Likewise, when a seller at an antiques market asked where we were from, he was delighted when we said Mexico. He spoke only a few words of English, but enough to make his surprise and delight clear.
Another experience involved the owner of the flat where we stayed. Although it was managed by a company through Airbnb, I met him because, shortly after arriving, I complained about the internet speed and asked them to do something about it. The next day, the owner came to replace the modem with a newer one, and we talked for a while. When I told him I was from Mexico, he became enthusiastic and told me that a couple of months earlier he had started working for a Mexican company: Banco Plata. It turns out that they have a hub for remote IT employees in Tbilisi, as well as in other parts of Europe. So we talked a little about that, and he was very kind.
It is difficult to describe Georgians as cold, curt, surly, rude or racist. In my experience, people are generally cordial and friendly when they have a reason to be.
Running
Running was somewhat difficult because of the lack of suitable routes. I have already mentioned the pavements, but even so, we managed to put together a 12-kilometre route alongside the Kura River. It was not ideal because it meant running next to the constant traffic and congestion, and the pavement was dirty—with soil and dry leaves—and full of imperfections… but we made it work. The heat, which is very intense in Georgia in summer, also made things harder, but we endured it.
The wine
Wine is a very important part of Georgian national identity, a source of pride and a tourist attraction. Wine is believed to have been invented in Georgia because it is where the oldest archaeological evidence has been found, dating back some 8,000 years, long before Italy, France or Spain.
One thing that makes Georgian wine unique is the traditional method used to make it: ageing the wine in enormous clay vessels called qvevri (ქვევრი), which are buried completely underground. The must, grape skins or pomace, seeds and even stems are placed inside and left to ferment for months without intervention. UNESCO recognised this method as Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
There is a culture of wine shops and wine bars. We had the opportunity to try several wines made from Saperavi, a grape native to Georgia that has spread to other countries in the region. When tasting wines, it is important to look for those fermented in qvevri, since not all of them are. There are also many grape varieties, blends and imported wines.
The shops
One curious detail is that, by law, shops in Georgia must always display a Georgian version of their name or sign. It must be at least the same size as the original and, if illuminated, must be equally well lit. As a result, on the streets and in shopping centres, every shop appears with its original name or logo and a Georgian version: ZARA ზარა, McDonald’s მაკდონალდსი, H&M ჰ&მ, KFC ქეი ეფ სი, Nike ნაიკი, Dunkin’ დანკინი, Adidas ადიდასი, Carrefour კარფური, Levi’s ლევისი, Coca-Cola კოკა-კოლა, and so on. The Georgian names are not necessarily literal translations. Sometimes a letter is added so that they sound more like the original pronunciation; for example, an “ი” is added to the end of “Nike”, producing “ნაიკი”. Many names are also transliterations—that is, adaptations. For example, “The Body Shop” becomes “ბოდი შოპი”: the words are purely phonetic and have no meaning, but sound similar to the brand name in its original language, something like “bodi shopi”.
Yerevan, Armenia
We made a short visit to this city, and I was very pleasantly surprised. I honestly did not know much about Armenia or Yerevan before this trip. It was simply a destination close to Tbilisi—a 35-minute flight—that gave us the chance to discover one more country, so we decided to go. But after experiencing the city and Armenian culture, I was delighted.
Armenia is one of four countries geographically located in Asia—the Middle East—but with such strong cultural and historical ties to Europe that they become impossible to classify: Turkey, Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan. For the purposes of this account, it is relevant only to compare Georgia and Armenia. Both countries belonged to the Soviet Union and both have an important cultural bond with Europe, but each feels very different. Whereas Georgia feels like a European country with Middle Eastern influences, Armenia feels like a Middle Eastern country with European influences. This is easy to understand from the geography and history of the region. Armenia borders Iran, Turkey, Georgia and Azerbaijan. Three of those countries clearly have predominantly Middle Eastern and Muslim cultures. However, 95% of Armenia’s population belongs to the Armenian Apostolic Church (Orthodox Christianity). What is now the country of Armenia was once divided between the Soviet Union and the Ottoman Empire. It is easy to understand why identifying the country as part of Europe or Asia becomes complicated.
Development, architecture and urban planning
Armenia, whose name in Armenian is Hayastan, is a country with a population of only around 3.1 million. Nevertheless, Yerevan, which is home to roughly half that population, feels quite developed. Large tree-lined avenues, wide pavements in excellent condition, enormous parks full of fountains and monuments, luxury shops and supermarkets offering practically every product one would find in any Central European supermarket, pedestrian traffic lights and drinking water—in short, a generally developed city.
Yerevan shows clear signs of urban planning. Its architecture combines buildings with beautiful traditional Armenian elements, neoclassical constructions, Soviet urbanism, and modern and contemporary buildings.
I stayed in the historic district, known as Old Yerevan, and it is a very beautiful area. All the streets feel well maintained and clean, with plenty of trees and full of parks and gardens. Fountains are everywhere, both decorative and for drinking water, all with beautiful and striking designs. Squares and monuments mean that there is always something interesting along the way. Northern Avenue, a pedestrian street full of shops, restaurants and cafés, is an excellent example of how pleasant it is to move around this area.
The people
My contact with Armenians was limited, so I could not form a very clear impression. I was there for only a few days, and all the places where I interacted with people were generally tourist-oriented. They seemed cordial to me; the service was average. One interaction caught my attention. We were in a supermarket trying to choose a bottle of wine. Behind us, a shop assistant was arranging products on some shelves and kept looking over at us. At one point, while we were looking at one section, she turned and said, “Red, red wine”. I knew they were red wines, but I thanked her anyway. She seemed to speak almost no English, but she wanted to tell us something. When we were holding two bottles and trying to decide which of them to take, she could no longer contain herself. She turned, pointed to one of the bottles and said, "This, this". I replied, "Oh, thanks, is this one better?" to which she said, "Yes, yes". Naturally, we followed her recommendation. It simply caught my attention. I imagined she had been watching us in frustration because she could not recommend anything to us, and when we narrowed it down to two options, she found a way to interact.
Something else I found noteworthy, however frivolous it may sound, was the beauty of the people. The women are generally probably among the most attractive I have seen, with fair or brown skin, long black hair and thick eyebrows, and their clothes are always carefully chosen and appropriate for the occasion, without falling into the excesses seen in Slavic countries. The men are generally well dressed. The intense heat does not drive them to sandals, shorts and sleeveless shirts as it does in other countries; instead, they can be seen in linen clothes, loafers and good accessories. Their full, neatly trimmed beards made me feel ashamed of my own.
The striking presence of luxury cars, such as Mercedes-Benz G500 SUVs, ultra-luxury marques such as Maybach and Rolls Royce, and exotic ones such as Lamborghini, suggests to me that this is a society that pays close attention to the image it projects to others, which explains the care people take with their grooming and clothing.
The language
Armenian is a language that belongs to its own branch of the Indo-European languages, which makes it very interesting to linguists, and it has its own 39-letter alphabet (Հայոց գրեր). It does not sound much like other languages I have heard. I particularly liked the script and find it beautiful, although I am aware that this may simply be a case of exoticism on my part. Almost everyone I interacted with spoke English, at levels ranging from basic to intermediate; when they did not, we simply understood each other through gestures.
The wine
While Georgia has the oldest anthropological evidence of wine consumption, Armenia has the oldest anthropological evidence of a winery, dating back 6,100 years, where a press, fermentation and storage vessels, and wine-making utensils were found.
Although Armenia has an exceptional wine-making tradition, for many years it was overshadowed by brandy production during the Soviet era. Over the past 15 or 20 years, however, it has undergone a significant revival. We tried wines made from Areni, the country’s most popular grape, as well as Haghtanak and Malbec. The country has an interesting terroir, with vineyards between 1,200 and 1,700 metres above sea level, very sunny days and cold nights, as well as volcanic soils.
Conclusion
This first experience in the Caucasus region was incredible, and I hope it will not be the last. Georgia and Armenia are very interesting countries with ancient traditions, yet at the same time they seem trapped between two worlds, without fully belonging to either. If I return to the area, I hope to visit Azerbaijan, and I would definitely like to return to Armenia. I do not know whether I would go back to Georgia; I feel that I have already seen what I needed to see. But even if I do not return, I will carry fond memories of it with me.