Who’s It All For?

Op-Ed

Anyone active on social media will probably have noticed that Tbilisi residents are less than happy with many of the new building projects that have been proposed or are already under construction. One can see their point; although the outskirts of the city are little more than a concrete jungle of standard grey Soviet blocks, the center is mercifully different, with its French-style boulevards and old buildings with verandas that always make me think of the American Old West. To be fair, the new projects are hardly as ugly and brutal as Stalin’s contributions to the cityscape, what with their shiny exteriors and tall, imposing designs, but they will still apparently destroy much of what remains of Tbilisi’s green areas.

Still, when I look at all these new modern designs, I can’t help but wonder who the hell can afford these things.

About three years ago, I looked into buying a house myself – nothing fancy, just one or two bedrooms of about 85 meters squared. My trips to the banks were interesting; the first interview with the financial advisor felt rather like being a prisoner of war accused of plotting to escape and assassinate the enemy head of state. He plainly didn’t believe that I earned 1100 USD per month, and reacted with an angry stare when I suggested he look at my transaction history. Furthermore, he was plainly unhappy that the girl sitting next to me was not my wife; the fact that we were engaged to be married in four months’ time did not mollify him one bit, nor was he impressed when she provided proof of her own salary of 800 Euros per month. In his eyes, clearly we were con-artists intent on using the house for drugs parties, prostitution, and epic marathons of Friends (although you could see in his eyes that he wished he could come, too. Fat chance).

I’d have put this down to the cynical suspicions of yet another Georgian man unhappy with the idea of a countrywoman being with a foreigner, but our happy friend from the bank was not alone in treating us with borderline hostility: one woman said that I could not have a mortgage because I was not a Georgian citizen, and when I produced my citizenship ID she stared at it as though she simply could not believe it; she even shook her head at the thing, mouth and eyes wide open, as though I had suddenly produced a rattlesnake. She then retreated into safe territory by saying that we could not buy anything together because we were not married (and that was another facer, too: my mother and step-father were together for fifteen years before marrying and bought five homes together. I’d really imagined that Georgian banks would be professional enough to be above that sort of cultural influence, but there you are).

That, then, is my first point – the wife and I are lucky enough to make far above the national salary of 500 GEL per month, but for reasons that are still beyond us, we were treated with suspicion by people who could have checked exactly how much money we have and earn (to allay any ideas you might have of your own, you may be sure I wore my suit to every meeting we have with representatives from three banks, and the reactions were almost all the same).

I next flirted with the idea of buying a home last year, when on an impulse I emailed the King David Residences and the Axis Towers project. The former is close to Heroes’ Square, a glass-façade two-building complex in the style that Tbilisi architectural traditionalists have come to hate, while the latter is an usual design of twin twisted towers in Vake. Both will apparently have restaurants, a fitness center, and a swimming pool all within, which appealed to me since I am rather more snobbish than penniless Spanish aristocracy, but as you can imagine, the prices for even the smallest of apartments in either cost a fortune.

I was in contact with the King David people last May, and they assured me that the towers would be ready for inhabitation in August; on their website, this was later pushed back to December. As far as I can tell, it has still yet to be finished, and nobody seems to be living there. I hesitate, of course, to conclude that they have run out of money because nobody can afford their apartments, but with that in mind, I cannot help wondering who on earth these buildings are supposed to cater to. It’s a consistent gripe amongst Tbilisi residents that more and more people from the outlying regions are flocking to the city, but I can’t imagine a Kakheti farmer or Svaneti mountain man kicking up his feet in a building wherein the cheapest (and smallest) of apartments is $120,000 (with the gym and pool not included, which I thought damned unfair). Nor is Tbilisi a favorite expat destination for wealthy foreigners; the Arab oil barons and Russian oligarchs seem happy enough where they are, with their condos in London and New York, and mansions in their own lands.

The population of this city is increasing at rather an alarming rate, but I don’t think the answer to the claustrophobic city center is the construction of buildings that nobody can afford. Seeing as the banks were hesitant enough with me, a man who is more than aware how lucky he is to work where he does, I dread to think what they would say to people earning rather less and still hoping to buy somewhere to live. There are wealthy Georgians, of course, but precious few in comparison with the majority, and I don’t think it’s impossible that these fancy new buildings might one day become fancy new empty husks.

Tim Ogden