St David’s Square in Kutaisi, Imereti, spread out still and unhurried on a sultry evening. The odd Lada or BMW grazed by in the heat; a traffic policeman idly waved his baton at cars. Summer was here and, in West Georgia, quite a different thing to that in Kartlian East Georgia — noticeably hotter (now cooling from a shimmering 40 degrees) yet sufferable. Altogether, the atmosphere in Georgia’s second city was pleasingly calm after the husde of the newly mobile-telephoned Tbilisi. The central park trees to my left leaned down friendly arms towards the passers by. I noticed the taxis didn’t buzz and swarm toward any lonely figure standing by the roadside as in the capital — if indeed taxis existed here in any serious way. Mostly Imeretians would stretch out lazy arms and a car would stop, often because they knew each other. “Gamaijoba Khatuna, sheidzleba …?” (“Hello Khatuna, is it possible …?”) they would say and step in.
KeywordsBurning Europe Turkey Ghost Lost
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