Random Musings: Svaneti
Since my wife and I visited Zimbabwe, birthplace of my father, a couple of winters ago, I see cows here in Svaneti with new eyes. There, we could buy (if we were rich enough) tanned cowhide sofa throws at USD 1000 a skin, each one uniquely beautiful, never just a plain solid color but the best patterns that the species offers. The stripes, the spots, the swirls! No need to turn to zebra, giraffe, leopard! Now, every special bovine skin here, still on its owner, makes me wish I knew the tanning art, to turn it into something potentially much more valuable than the purchase price of the live animal.
I also see wire and metal garbage here differently after that trip. What the Zimbabweans can make from these things should belong in the Met in New York as design classics, sculptures! That's what they were selling as. My childhood reminds me of shoebox-size cars, every part from wire, with rolling wheels and a working steering column which extended up a meter or so. African boys would take their car and run behind it, steering as they went. Again, miracles of form and function too. I now own a pair, my nostalgia on that front fully satisfied. Svans, are you too proud to turn your hand to "art from garbage"?
A mountain, even a relatively small one such as that on which half of my village's cows graze every day through the summer, is a big thing to get lost on. They go up each morning if you lead them to the edge of the village, but won't come down again in the evening without being chased! And if you go for them too early, a herd will scatter six ways into the forest, leaving you fuming while they munch away. There has to be an easier way to do this! GPS tracking, a responsible and mutually agreed rota system for herding the beasts every evening, something. At stake is the milk, which will dry up if you abandon them to their wishes: they should be milked twice a day, though missing an occasional milking won't bring immediate disaster. Spring and fall they're in local fields, which is much easier, but this mountain!
I'm now waiting to hear back from an actual company, UK-based, which sells the blessed GPS cow trackers: how much per unit for one, ten, fifty? Will this 21st century dream come to our humble village and make our lives THAT much easier every summer and fall? Time, I hope fervently, will tell.
Recently, I heard from one of the members of the local Riho Svan choir that they've just scored a double coup in a singing competition in Tbilisi. Best vocal group from around 400, that's four hundred groups, and best regional choir. Svaneti sweeps the winnings! I'm very proud of you guys, and not very surprised, I have to say. Strength to strength.
Next door to one of the Riho guys, a returning villager based in Tbilisi is rebuilding a house. This is a huge endeavor, involving several other workmen, and it represents a considerable faith in the future of this province and village. They're setting beams in place, pouring concrete into forms, replacing an entire vanished roof. No small task, but most pleasant to see their progress each morning as I send my pair of cows to the edge of the village for their daily mountain forage. Another piece of good news. I don't yet know whether he's planning a permanent move or just to have a summer house, but I hope the former. In any case, such optimism does us all glad.
Just a few of my recent thoughts revolving around life up here, where it's never dull.
Tony Hanmer runs the “Svaneti Renaissance” Facebook group, now with over 1300 members, at
www.facebook.com/groups/SvanetiRenaissance/
He and his wife also run their own guest house in Etseri:
www.facebook.com/hanmer.house.svaneti
Tony Hanmer