Of Kinkhali and Panduris

Kelsey M lives in Lagodekhi, a village just outside of Gurjaani, which is about a forty minute ride from Telavi.  Faiza and I went down there on Tuesday to see her and Shelly, who lives in Gurjaani.  Since Faiza’s been here since January, she was able to negotiate with the marshrutka driver for us.  She’s very handy like that. 

We asked the driver to let us off when we saw the sign that said Gurjaani, but it turned out to be the sign for the city limits.  We had a bit of a walk to the city centre, where we would be meeting Kelsey and Shelly.  Along the way, we found this park and museum.  According to my research (asking Kelsey, again), the statue is a monument to a man who went off to battle to find his son and bring him home.  They both died.  Now they have this big statue. 

The museum was a tiny, one-room art gallery of this guy’s paintings.  Most of them had to do with the Red Army, but I couldn’t tell if he was for or against the Russians.

Just your friendly neighbourhood Stalin, out for a walk with Granny.

Like most cafés in Georgia, the one we went to had a very extensive menu but only four dishes that were actually available: lobiani, katchapuri, bread with tomatoes, and kinkhali.  We ordered kinkhali, boiled dumplings filled with potato, meat, or cheese.  The Georgians have some magical method of eating these so that the broth inside doesn’t run all over their hands and faces, but I have not yet developed that skill.  I guess I just need to practice by eating lots of kinkhali. 

Kinkhali, as made by Maka

Kelsey’s host family does demonstrations of Georgian culture for tourists.  They host supras, play music, cook traditional dishes, and so on.  The grandfather has a shop in the back of the house where he makes panduris, a three-stringed instrument kind of like a saaz or a lute.  He even let me hold one and try to play it.  I now know how to play two chords; that makes me an expert, right?

I'll be taking my act on tour next month

We had tea and cookies in the garden with Kelsey’s host sister.  Sopo is twenty and speaks very good English, as well as playing the panduri very well.  She plays even better than I do, if you can believe it. 

Georgian tea parties are awesome!

When Simon, Kelsey’s host father, found out that we were there, he ran upstairs to put on his traditional costume for us.  He played panduri and posed and preened like any movie star on the red carpet, but he also told us what all the different bits on his costume were.  Most of them had to do with weapons.  The strap that wasn’t for a weapon was for holding the things killed with the weapons. 

Bullet cartridges, knives, daggers, and a panduri: everything needed to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies!

Simon gave me the number of one of his buddies who has a Georgian folk band in Telavi.  If I’m lucky, he’ll teach me to play the panduri and the changi and all the other nifty Georgian instruments.  Huzzah!