The cast of characters consisted of a motley crew of my former host brother's and former host sister's friends. Actually, perhaps motley is not the right word, as all the boys were bank employees studying English and all the girls were fashion-conscious students at Tbilisi State University, but so rarely can one use the word motley three times in one paragraph.
There was a warm-up supra the day I arrived, which was the actual holiday-- May 9th. The host family invited me while I was here for Easter a couple weeks ago, reminding me that May 9th is the holiday that Kheltubanians celebrate with gusto, since what is a village without its official holiday? The cast was introduced, some toasts were drunk, dancing ensued, and we went to bed seven hours later. Thus concluded part one.
The second round commenced at eleven o'clock the next morning. When we arrived upstairs for breakfast, the entire supra had mysteriously rematerialized, like a piece of cake in a cheaply-made cartoon that the character keeps eating but which never diminishes in quantity. No one was surprised except for me. The entire table was set again, and not in the manner that one sets the table for a morning-after breakfast supra, but rather as though a whole new supra were set to begin. As the only thing that can truly end a supra is when everyone falls asleep, an eleven o'clock start time meant trouble.
Even now, the next day, I have no idea why I am still alive and not clambering at the gates for a bus to Samtredia. The thing that kept the supra alive for me was the half English/half Georgian deep philosophical conversations that the bank employees were engaging me in. There were language gaps, of course:
Gio: And that guy, he's from Nine... Nine Muxa. Do you know what is Muxa?
Me: No.
Gio: Muxa, muxa. Hey, Boris! What is Muxa!
Boris: What in the hell are you telling her that you need Muxa for?
Gio: Vai, shen! So Jeni, Muxa is... is a big tree. And the pigs eat, it has the little rko. Do you know rko?
Me: No.
Gio: BORIS! What is rko?
Boris: You're a rko. Leave me alone.
Gio: Vai, shen!
After fifteen minutes, we established that Muxa is "oak tree" and that Gio was describing Alex, who is apparently from a village that translates to "Nine Oaks." They spent the rest of the evening referring to him as "Nine Oakeli" when they weren't referring to each other by bank name.
Giorgi: Pass me the eggplant.
Alex: Sorry, this eggplant is only for Standard Bank employees. The Bank of Georgia eggplant is over there.
The main conversation that sticks out in memory is a lengthy one about religion (sorry, Peace Corps). It was the first time I've taken the bait and gotten into a discussion about religion with a host country national, since it is a tricky subject, but even if Boris disagreed absolutely with everything I said, I still had a feeling he wouldn't raise up a torch-and-pitchfork brigade against my Protestant heathenism. Besides, it was all on a grand scale and didn't involve much in the way of personal beliefs, so it's okay. I'd like to thank Chris and Heather for popping into my mind when I needed counterexamples to Boris's wild generalizations, and Andrew Main for keeping me from making wild generalizations in the other direction.
Boris: Why do you live?
Me: Um. For my relationships with people, and to help people.
Boris: But how can you live for relationships? God created all of us, and we must live for him.
Me: I'm just saying that I want to change the world a little bit.
Boris: But what makes you think that you can change the world yourself?
Me: Well, obviously it wouldn't be noticeable, but I'd notice.
Boris: You Americans always think you should go around and change things. How can you change people's minds?
Me: I'm just looking to try and help resolve international conflict through negotiation, trade, things like that. Maybe if I'm part of the team that negotiates a trade deal between two formerly hostile countries, then 50 years down the road if they consider a formal detente or something, then I had a small part in that.
Boris: But how can you change the leader's minds? It's obvious to me that invading Iran is Bush's idea, and the American people don't agree. How can you change his mind?
Me: I can't talk about politics.
Boris: Fine. But why aren't Americans religious? Here, we live for God. 99% of Georgians are orthodox.
Me: There's religious people in America. Some of my friends are very religious.
Boris: Are they orthodox?
Me: No, Americans are mostly Protestant and Catholic, but there's also some Orthodox, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists...
Boris: But what I don't understand is that you all are not orthodox, if you claim you are religious.
Me: Are you saying Georgian orthodoxy is the one true religion?
Boris: Yes.
Me: I can't stand it when people say that their religion is the one true religion, especially when there's so little difference between them.
Boris: (smiles) I was waiting for you to make this point. Good for you. There are many big differences between Orthodox and Protestant. For example, in Armenia they think that God is one being, but in Orthodox we think he is two. Do you know anything about Orthodox?
Me: Not much.
Boris: Why are you against Orthodoxy?
Me: I'm not against it, I just don't want to switch over.
Boris: Why not? What do you have against it?
Me: Nothing!
Khatia: Why should she switch? You have given no reason.
Me: I'm fine with Protestantism.
Boris: But you Americans, you live without interest in religion, so why do you live?
Me: Did I say we were disinterested in religion?
Boris: Well?
Me: I guess it's more of a personal thing there.
Boris: And why don't you switch to Orthodoxy?
Me: My personal opinion? Remember, I'm not "all Americans."
Boris: I know.
Me: I PERSONALLY don't understand religions with lots of ritual.
Boris: (light bulb) Ohhhh, so you don't have problems with our beliefs, only with lots of rituals! You want a very simple religion!
Me: Um... sure.
Boris: I understand! Thank you for having this discussion with me. (shakes my hand) You're still the best.
Me: Thanks.
And then a couple minutes later, during the impromptu toast to Orthodoxy, Alex stood up and gave a toast:
"To God as you know him, whether Orthodox, Protestant, Catholic, Jew, or anything. Everyone has their own cheshmariti* and they should live it to its fullest. Gaumarjos."
* I think cheshmariti means "truth" or "certainty" or something like that.
So there you go, 23 months into my service and this is the first major productive philosophical exchange I've had with a Georgian. I think the conclusion Boris probably reached from our debate is that I'm too lazy to cross myself, but that's fine. The point is that there was no yelling or name-calling, and we soon got back to discussing things more appropriate for a supra:
Gio: Hey, Levan! F*** you!
Levan: Thank you!
Gio: (laughs, high five)
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