So my friend Brooke lives in a village on the outskirts of Ozurgeti. She invited me over and I accepted. I wanted to get a closer look at this ‘village’ life. Fortunately, her host brother was in town, so he escorted me back to their house. Nice guy.
**** Editor’s note:
There are so many wacky things that happen every single day that I would be writing a novel, trying to tell it all. So I think I will just do major story lines. And post the crazy stuff when I can fit it in.
So to draw a comparison towns are tiny cities. The houses are much like suburbs in that they are close to each other in that sense and the houses in tight proximity to the market/ town-center. Pretty much anything can be bought in town, and then there are the civic institutions (police, hospital, judge, etc.) Villages are strictly agricultural based and the homes are more sporadic and spread out than towns. They usually have a general store, school and church. The homes don’t necessarily always have the basic utilities.
I came while Brooke doing wash. Comical. After hanging clothes on line, she gave me the tour.
Brooke’s host house is very spacious. To the point that it seemed to outpace the accumulation of furniture. It was like they were preparing for a lot more people to move in. Brooke and I sat and chatted while the mom started to prepare the onslaught of food. First came the chocolate, then the fruit and tea then the famed Tcha-Tcha.
Tcha- Tach is homemade liquor; similar to what Southerners know as moonshine. I have gathered that it’s made from the remnants of the waste of the wine-making procedure. This is the evil twin to the sophisticated Georgian wine.
Brooke’s host uncle brought it out and I got really excited, as I haven’t had it before. Brooke said this was the first time she was offered it as well. By this time another friend, Jess, from TLG had showed up as well.
Man o’ man. They say there is ‘clean’ Tcha-Tcha and there is the other kind. This was the other kind. It hurt and tasted toxic. I only had a half shot glass to start off and chased with water and watermelon. The uncle coaxed me to another touch. I think I wanted to make sure it tasted as bad as I thought the first time. I was correct. It almost immediately sent me spinning.
The food continued to pour in and crescendoed with an amazing Supra. The food was SOOO good.
But alas, we had to get Jess back to town to buy a modem before the story closed. (Unbeknownst to us, it was closed anyways; Sunday).
So we bid the village a fond farewell.
“Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches
I’m Moving to the country, I’m gonna eat me a lot of peaches
I’m Moving to the country I’m gonna eat a lot of peaches
Moving to the country I’m gonna eat a lot of peaches”
Peaches, Presidents of the United States of America