I recently had a wonderful experience that I missed last year, due to being in Batumi exploring botanical gardens at Easter. This year I was here in Gori, and I spent Easter with my Georgian family.
The whole thing started off with a funny, and frankly, slightly embarrassing incident. I was at home, getting ready to go over to my family’s, when I heard kids singing in the stairwell. I could tell, it was like Halloween, they were going door-to-door and doing … something. But what? When the inevitable knock on the door came, I let curiosity get the better of me and recklessly opened it. Six little girls, grinning ear-to-ear and holding baskets filled with red eggs, frantically recited some doggerel and held out the baskets. I was COMPLETELY lost! Like … was I supposed to take an egg? Give them money? Give them an egg? It turns out it was the latter, but I didn’t know that at the time. I explained that I was an American and that I didn’t know what they wanted … they kind of just stared at me in shock and beat a hasty retreat to the neighbor’s door.
Sigh … I felt like an idiot. But ok, I went off to my family’s house, dressed in a skirt and bringing along a scarf to cover my head, as we were going to church. First, though, there was some serious egg-painting, which I enthusiastically joined in with. Here are some of the results – mine is the one with yellow swirls, nice, The thing in the middle is the traditional Easter cake, called paska. It’s pretty good, too. I brought one to my family, who promptly gave me about 20 eggs and another paska to take home. Heated up with a little butter … mmmmmm.
At midnight we piled into the car and drove over to the big church. Parking wasn’t that bad, but the crush of people was unbelievable. I think the whole town was there. It was so intense, and at a certain point, Tamriko (my host mom) pulled us out and said we would go to the smaller church a few blocks away. That was a wise choice!
We walked over, shivering a little in the early spring night air, and entered the courtyard of the church. There were also a lot of people there, but not the crazy scene we had just left. When we arrived, the priests were inside chanting, but after a few minutes, it was time to walk 3 times around the church holding long, thin candles. Holding hands with Nutsa, my younger sister, we started off. The priests and acolytes at the front were holding colorful banners, one of which had been embroidered by Tamriko. Another priest was ringing bells, and everyone was chanting a call and response that sounded ancient, and heartfelt. It really didn’t feel right to be using a flash or taking photos at all, really – but I did record the bells and chanting. So, these are not really videos – they’re really audio recordings. The chanting, in particular, was very beautiful. Although it’s a religion very far from mine, and traditions I am not familiar with, I felt accepted and part of the crowd. I saw people I knew, people greeted me, they let me stand among them without comment (for once) and so I was free to just be in the moment and appreciate the history and feeling.
The inside of the small church was very beautiful. There were whitewashed walls, murals of saints, and of course many icons. We all crowded in, listened for a while, and then Salome said it was time to go home – it was about 2:00 am. Her dad gave us all a ride home, and then he returned Tamriko to the church, where she stayed until morning, as is the custom for religious people here.
So, although I had not really anticipated being moved by the hoiday and its symbolism, I was. That was interesting. It made me want to know more. Wanting to know more – a big part of why I’m not ready to leave yet, and will be staying here, learning, and sharing, because this blog will definitely continue. As I like to say – stay tuned!