Chain Chain Chain...

We all claim to be averse to chain stores in the US. Being occasionally pretentious, I tend to tell people my favorite restaurant in New York is Via Della Pace on 2nd Avenue, a tiny little Italian place that serves shrimp fettucine too delicious for words. Despite its old-world charm at developing-world prices, however, I still frequented Olive Garden. Never-ending pasta bowl!


Why do we do this to ourselves? Don't answer that question if the answer is "I don't," because you're either lying or you're a hippie vegan communist. Chain stores, while devoid of individuality, provide a certain guarantee of quality, not to mention familiarity. You know that whatever Sephora you walk into, the staff are going to be so beautiful that one glance at your reflection in the mirror, and you'll buy their whole stock of $90 foundation. When you enter a Bath & Body Works, the salesperson will immediately tell you which products are 2 for $12, available in Coconut Lime and Juniper Breeze. No matter where that Friendly's is that you bring your family to, you know your service will be slow and indifferent, but that the honey mustard and the Oreo Brownie Sundae will be worth the wait.

If there's a place where chain stores bring glee to the hearts of many, it's Georgia. Let's divide these stores and their respective glees into two categories: 1) International chains that are breaking into the Georgian market, and 2) Homegrown Georgian chains.



The first category generally applies to Tbilisi, though even Kutaisi will have its own McDonald's soon. This glee falls closer to the "relief" end of the spectrum, as in relief from going without the unessentials. Most of the chains in Tbilisi are high-end fashion chains, like Boss and Armani (the latter of which has a Georgian spokesperson, AC Milan footballer Kakha Kaladze), with the occasional mid-range fashion chain, like United Colors of Benetton. While Peace Corps volunteers may find that prices outside the Turkish clothing bazaar are prohibitively expensive, it's nice that the well to-do Tbilisians have some choice. You'll also find electronics retailers like Bosch, Samsung and Sony, selling some of the only computers in Georgia that come equipped with genuine Microsoft programs, rather than bootlegs. The glee of seeing a new Radisson under construction is a distant kind of happiness, a rueful acknowledgement that multi-national corporations will someday own the body and soul of every living being in the world, but a touch of gratitude that real Adidas warm-ups are available, even if you can't afford them.



The second category of glee is a less selfish one, but perhaps equally self-centered. Homegrown Georgian chain stores visually signify the growth of a class of Georgian entrepreneurs, as well as the nation's continued transition from Soviet dependency to capitalism. Any Georgian reading this is going to think I'm being condescending, but I'm not trying to be-- it really is impressive to see successful chain stores with commercials and everything in a nation that spent 80 of the last 90 years with all major industries controlled by the state. Furthermore, it's nice to know that if I buy hair conditioner in a chain pharmacy, it's less likely to turn out to be filled with dish soap than if I buy it elsewhere (that only happened once). Since this is my blog, let's take a brief tour of my favorite Georgian chain stores.

1) Nikora


Nikora is like a deli. While it doesn't sell roast beef, cheddar cheese, tuna sandwiches, or any of the other things I would irrationally expect from a deli, it does have whole frozen chickens and American cheese. The selection of sausages is impressive, and they even have cartons of ice cream. Note: you can buy the hot dogs if you want, just don't expect Ballpark.

2) Aversi


Aversi is a 24-hour pharmacy, in case you wake up with a 2AM craving for Valium, which you can purchase without a doctor's note for a few cents per pill. They have a fine selection of shampoos, shaving gel and toothpaste, and they keep computerized records with access to a nationwide database of pensioners who are entitled to drug discounts. They also sell tea and mineral water, which cures everything.

3) Elit Electronics


It's an electronics store! Most of their stuff is the kind of fancy, energy-saving European appliances with lots of buttons that confuse me but probably serve their purpose better than any 50-gallon washing machine I've ever used. I can't really afford anything at Elit Electronics-- except for the plug-in water boilers for tea-- but it's fun to browse.

Honorable Mention: Populi

Populi is a gigantic grocery store-- and by gigantic, I mean about half the size of an American big-box grocery store, but gigantic and beautiful in comparison to its local compeition-- which would have held all three of the above places on my list of favorite chains if I were certain that it was a Georgian company; somebody told me it's Russian. I still think it's Georgian, but I'll put it down here just in case, and if any passing Georgians could straighten this out for me on the comments page, I'd really appreciate it. Anyway, Populi has everything: foreign cheese, whole wheat bread, frozen premade food, Magnum ice cream bars, peanut butter, ketchup, Haribo gummy candies, spinach, ham, et cetera. They accept credit cards, and their staff are actually trained in customer service. Ten stars.