Arriving Alone in a Special Land of Hospitality

Arriving at the Tbilisi International Airport with no traveling companions, I must admit that I felt somewhat lonely with no one to greet me. After grabbing my baggage and proceeding toward the crowd of joyful welcomers, a desolate feeling among a crowd took hold. My first welcome to Georgia in 2001 was complete with a sold round of applause, whistles, and cheers. I had done little more than flown across an ocean and a continent with other Peace Corps volunteers, but we were seen as a sign of progress in Georgia by some after the horribly dark 1990s. But returning this year, was so different while observing the tear-soaked reunions of mothers and sons, grandmother kisses, and addies seeing their babies all grown up after many years away making a living for their families. The only people who talked to me were taxi drivers trying to charge me way too much money to drive me away into the dark Tbilisi early morning.

While sitting in the airport contemplating whether or not to take a cab to my friend's place or to wait until the train started to run, I was accosted by three drunk Georgian boys of around the age of 20. They had not malice or trickery in mind, for their goal was much simpler and joyous. They began by saying, "Brat, Brat!," which is Russian for "brother." Then they must have noticed that I was not Russian when I began speaking Georgian. So, they switched to, "Brah-zer, brahzer!" which is broken Georgian English for "brother." One commenced to tell me that his dear friend had just returned home from being in Ukraine for many years and that this was the occasion for their obvious drunkenness and would I like some vodka for a toast with them. At that time I felt like I might pass out from the more than 24 hour plane trip, and knowing that my new brothers were intent on spreading their intoxication of togetherness, I respectfully declined. It must have been ok, because they started giving me kisses. Kisses on my cheeks --- a standard Georgian greeting among men close to one another. I think they walked away at least four times and returned three of those for more kisses and to call me their brother.

I suppose welcomes sometimes come from unexpected places ...