TBILISI: Vino Underground: Wine Heaven. By Paul Rimple / Photographies by Molly Corso (culinarybackstreets.com)

Photo by Paul Rimple

(culinarybackstreets.com) Enek poured a rosy colored splash of wine into our glasses, avidly explaining how this particular Aladasturi grape vine was meticulously cultivated in its native west Georgia. In a tasting ritual uncommon in Georgia, we swirled it, sniffed it and savored the flavor as it caressed our tongues. Here in the “cradle of wine,” the land where viticulture is believed to have originated 8,000 years ago, wine is customarily poured into a water glass and “tasted” in one long drag, until drained. But in this cozy cellar in the heart of Tbilisi’s historic Sololaki neighborhood, seven winemakers have come together to offer an alternative convention to winemaking and consumption. They call it Vino Underground, but we call it wine heaven.

“This wine is made by an 80-year-old man in Imereti,” Ènek said. “He’s only bottled 500.” 

Vino Underground offers about 100 family-produced Georgian wines, most all made much like they have been for thousands of years; in ceramic qvevris, tear-shaped vessels buried in the ground and found in nearly every basement in east Georgia’s wine region of Kakheti. But what sets this wine apart from what is normally consumed in the country is the acute care given to the vine. Vino Underground’s co-op think of themselves as grape cultivators rather than winemakers, following an intrinsic philosophy of “listening to the vines” to help them develop a resilient immune system naturally, instead of fertilizing them with chemicals. By the time the grapes get to the cellar, nothing needs to be added to help the fermentation process. You can taste the personal touch that goes into each bottle.

That night we were sampling whites, working our way to Georgia’s distinctive tannin-infused, amber colored wine, a result of the inclusion of skins, seeds and stems into the fermentation process. After sampling a straw-colored, citrusy Kisi, we settled on a bottle of Rkatsiteli, which is Georgia’s most popular white.

Ènek Peterson walked us through several wines, impressing us with a profound knowledge of the background of each bottle, all with an enthusiasm she couldn’t hide. The 21-year-old Boston native eloped with Georgia when she failed to board her flight back home seven months ago, after coming here to learn Georgian folk singing. Already a fluent Georgian speaker, she is fast becoming an expert on natural local wines, and this Rkatsiteli she selected for us was divine.

“This wine comes from Zaza Darsavelidze. He’s a soldier and security guard by profession but inherited the business from his father,” Ènek explained. “Zaza takes his four year-old son with him to the marani” – wine cellar – “and vineyards because he feels it’s so important for this tradition to be carried on.”

Vino underground isn’t the kind of place you visit if you’re hungry, which is unheard of in this Black Sea nation where wine and supper are as inseparable as salt is from the sea. But they do offer savory treats well suited to partnering with their wide selection of wines, which also includes European and Kiwi vintages. We skipped the platter of local cheeses, preferring to try that evening’s specials of fried Sulguni cheese with sorrel and Ekala with walnuts. Sulguni is best described as a kind of mozzarella, while Ekala is a spinach-like plant native to west Georgia. While both are simply outstanding, at Vino Underground it is the wine that really shines.

Address: 15 Galaktion Tabidze St., Sololaki
Tel: +995 322 30 9610
Hours: noon-midnight


(top and above photo by Molly Corso, middle photo by Paul Rimple)
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GLOBALIZATION: Gold mining's cultural cost. By Paul Rimple, Tbilisi (dw.de)

(dw.de) Civil society in the Republic of Georgia is up in arms about the government's decision to allow a mining company to excavate and destroy what many archaeologists contend is the oldest gold mine in the world.


Read also by Paul Rimple: Conservation
Ancient site pits locals against big business in Georgia [dw.de]

Plans by big business to destroy an ancient site south of the Georgian capital Tbilisi are causing anger among local protesters and international scientists. They say it's an ancient gold mine dating back 5,000 years.

The rolling plains of Georgia's Bolnisi region aren't just serene. They also represent one of the most significant areas worldwide for archeologists looking for ancient human remains.

In the tiny village of Dmanisi, a 1.8 million year-old human skull was recently discovered to the amazement of scientists. Nearby, a team of archeologists from the National Museum of Georgia and the German Mining Museum (DBM) unearthed Bronze Era caves.

But the area is also rich in minerals. One site, known as Sakdrisi, is even believed to be home to a 5,000-year-old gold mine. The area was part of a concession of land the Georgian government allotted for the exploration of minerals in 1994.

In 2006, Georgia's Ministry of Culture and Monument Protection added the ancient gold mine site to its list of protected cultural monuments. The archeological significance of the region had been a source of pride to the company that had the initial rights to mine the area. But that's now due to change. The Russian-owned company RMG bought the lease in 2012, and now plans to mine for gold.

The power of gold

RMG believes that rich gold deposits are directly under the ancient gold mine site and petitioned strongly for the government to lift Sakdrisi's protected status.

The Georgian Ministry of Culture formed a commission to study the site's status in May 2013. After one month of investigations, the commission ruled that no grounds exist to justify the protected status. In July 2013, the Ministry of Culture revoked its protected cultural heritage status.

The commission also held that the previous Georgian government had granted the protected status illegally, although they say they cannot find the 2006 documents that granted Sakdrisi permanent protection.

Thomas Stöllner, from DBM, challenged the commission's scientific qualifications though, requesting in an open letter that a new international committee be set up to test the site's archaeological signficance. So far the request has fallen on deaf ears.

Conflicts of interest

Gold exports are big business in Georgia. Sales of the precious metal overseas totalled 25.7 million euros ($35.5 million) in 2013, nearly 3 percent of the country's total export earnings.

RMG Commercial Director Solomon Tsabadze, a former Georgian Environment Ministry official, says the mining company provides 85 percent of the local budget through licensing fees and is the largest single employer in the region.

But civil society groups suspect collusion between the mining company and the government. Back in 1994 a Ministry of Environment official, Zurab Kutelia, issued the original mining permit for Sakdrisi. Today, he is the chairperson RMG's supervisory board and a company shareholder. On the other hand, other former mining company directors have become government officials too.

For Marine Mizandari, Georgia's former Deputy Minister of Culture, the ministry's decision to remove Sakdrisi from its list of protected sites is a serious setback.

"Why are we called the Ministry of Culture and Monument Protection of Georgia, if we don't protect our monuments of culture?" she said to DW, adding that she believes she was dismissed from her post in the culture ministry for reasons related to Sakdrisi.

Citizens stand up

Mizandari is now at the forefront of the Public Committee to Save Sakdrisi, a coalition of civil society groups and students demanding that the Culture Ministry appoint a non-partisan group of international experts to re-evaluate Sakdrisi.

But her protest work is not yet getting results. At a recent meeting with university students on the issue, Prime Minister Irakli Gharibashvili reiterated the commission's controversial findings, saying there was no proof gold had ever been mined in Sakdrisi. He stressed that RMG has already invested heavily in the Georgian economy and that protecting Sakdrisi would jeopardize the jobs of 3,000 people.

RMG has now been given the green light to begin excavating, and activists and students have organized protests against the Culture Ministry's decision in Tbilisi and near the mine site. One of their chief complaints is their exclusion from the decision-making process.

"You can stop anybody on the street and every Georgian will tell you they are proud of their history and culture," said Avtandil Ioseliani, representing Unanimity, a local NGO coalition. "I don't know what the Culture Ministry is doing, but they are not answering the questions society has."

Although Sakdrisi has lost its cultural heritage protected status, it is still an archeological site, which prevents RMG from destroying it completely. The Culture Ministry has announced that it will appoint an independent group of archeological experts to monitor the mining work done.

But mining opponents fail to see the logic in the policy, since the mining process requires blasting and the destruction of the ancient tunnels, they say.

Nikoloz Antidze, from the National Agency for Cultural Heritage and Preservation of Georgia, recalls how archeological sites were ruined when BP laid an oil pipeline across the country in last 10 years.

"State interests often override archaeological interests all over the world, not just in Georgia," he told DW.

PHOTOREPORTAGE: Post-Crimea, Phantom of Armenian Separatism Haunts Georgia. By Paul Rimple and Photography by Justyna Mielnikiewicz (eurasianet.org)

Amarcum Arakyan, an ethnic Armenian, cuts the hair of Josif Petriashvili, a Georgian, in the city of Akhaltsikhe.

Slideshow with Photos are here >>>

(eurasianet.org) For many in Georgia, Russia’s annexation Crimea is reigniting fears about separatism rooted in ethnic conflict and Kremlin meddling. But now Georgians aren’t just worrying about the breakaway entities of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, they also are concerned about the loyalty of the predominantly ethnic-Armenian region of Samtskhe-Javakheti.

  While locals dismiss separatism concerns as nonsense, some say the speculation on the issue is indicative of a failure on the Georgian central government’s part to address complaints of the country’s Armenian-speaking minority in Samtskhe-Javakheti, which is roughly a three-hour drive south of the Georgian capital, Tbilisi. Officials contend progress has been made, but concede more can be done on the inclusivity issue.

A mountainous, ragtag region bordering both Turkey and Armenia, Samtskhe‐Javakheti contains roughly 250,000 ethnic Armenians; 55 percent of the region’s total population, according to Georgia’s latest census, compiled in 2002. Knowledge of the Georgian language here can run thin. At the same time, in the view of some outsiders, sympathy for Russia, which, until 2007, operated a 15,000-man base in the regional town of Akhalkalaki, can run strong.

Over the past few weeks, suspicions among Georgians about the country’s Armenian minority have risen, fueled by memories of Tbilisi’s 2008 conflict with Russia, as well as the Kremlin’s recent land-grab in Crimea. Underscoring those suspicions was the appearance of unconfirmed media reports about ethnic Armenians from Samtskhe-Javakheti allegedly applying, en masse, to receive Russian passports.

Senior Georgian government officials have denied categorically these reports, but, as Russia-Ukraine tension threatens to boil over, such media coverage, condemned as sensationalism by three local watchdog groups, could well continue. “Somebody is interested in stirring up the water,” commented Seda Melkumian, the Samtskhe‐Javakheti representative for the Ombudsman’s Office. “So far, I haven’t met one person with a Russian passport.”

Interethnic suspicion stems from a long-time tug-of-war over greater language rights for the region’s Armenian speakers; for some Georgians, it’s a campaign reminiscent of ethnic Russians’ complaints in Crimea.

But residents adamantly deny that such a struggle could encourage them to break with Tbilisi. “We aren’t separatists,” asserted Melik Raisian, a former member of the ruling Georgian Dream coalition from Akhalkalaki. “We are Georgian citizens. Why do we always have to prove we’re not separatists for wanting our rights?”

The separatist perception is generally connected to the United Javakh Democratic Alliance (“Javakh”), a nationalist movement that has called for political autonomy in the past. Many of the movements’ key members, including leader Vahag Chakhalian, were arrested in 2008 following a fatal bombing near the home of a police chief in the town of Akhalkalaki. Chakhalian was released in 2013 as part of Georgia’s mass amnesty of prisoners.

Javakh has little influence today, although many can identify with its grievances. The 2007 closure of Akhalkalaki’s Russian army base left many locals unemployed; as of 2012, the official unemployment rate stood at 7.5 percent. Many had hoped to find work on the Kars–Tbilisi–Baku railway, which goes through Javakheti, yet few have been employed.

The lack of economic opportunities drives many residents to Russia for work. Melkumian estimates that about half of Javakheti’s families have some family member in Russia. “In the villages, every family has somebody there,” she said.

That situation, though, is no different from elsewhere in Georgia, noted Ewa Chylinski, director of the European Center for Minority Issues in Tbilisi. As of this January, the Russian Federation ranked as the largest source of Georgia’s remittances, roughly $46.6 million in 2013, according to the National Bank of Georgia.

Nonetheless, the money trail does not mean a desire for independence. Chylinski rejected the notion of a separatist threat in Javakheti as “groundless.” The main problem is not autonomy, but language, she said. People cannot participate in Georgian society if they do not speak Georgian.

But for many in Samtskhe-Javakheti, that does not affect their identification with Georgia. “I’m Armenian, but I was born in Georgia. My father was born in Georgia. His father was born in Georgia and I will live in Georgia,” declared octogenarian Artush Artkopian, speaking via a teenage translator in Armenian since his knowledge of Georgian and Russian is limited.

Last year, Akhalkalaki's local council announced plans to petition the Georgian parliament to ratify the European Charter for Regional of Minority Languages, a Council of Europe convention that would make Armenian an official local language for Samtskhe-Javakheti. Getting no support in Tbilisi, where opposition from the Georgian Orthodox Church and politicians runs strong, the matter was soon dropped.

The central government, though, has taken some concrete steps to increase knowledge of Georgian. In 2010, the Ministry of Education established a program, called the “4 + 1” system,” which established a 5-percent quota for ethnic minorities in Georgian universities. Minority applicants to four-year higher educational facilities take an entrance exam in their own language, as well as an intensive one-year Georgian-language course.

Shorena Tetvadze, director of the Akhalkalaki branch of the Zurab Zhvania School of Public Administration, deems the program a success. After six years of 4 + 1, 130 ethnic Armenians graduated from Georgian universities in 2013, compared with only two in 2006, she said.

Akhalkalaki’s five grammar schools all teach Georgian, a policy the State Ministry for Reconciliation and Civic Equality calls a relative success. Three are Armenian-language schools, one is Russian and the other a Georgian school, with an enrollment of 120. Tetvadze, who is half ethnic Armenian, thinks more parents would enroll their children in the Georgian school if they did not fear assimilation. But 45 kilometers north of Akhalkalaki, in the ethnically mixed regional seat of Akhaltsikhe, 68-year-old barber Ambarcum Arakian dismissed that concern.

“Here, we’re all natives. The Georgians know Armenian and the Armenians know Georgian,” Arakian emphasized. He added that his grandson is attending university via the 4+1 program, and his granddaughter is going to a Georgian-language kindergarten “so she will know Georgian better.”

“I’m not afraid of assimilation,” he said. “We won’t lose our culture.” 

Editor's Note: Paul Rimple is a freelance reporter based in Tbilisi. Justyna Mielnikiewicz is a freelance photojournalist also based in Tbilisi.

SCANDAL: Georgia Opts for Gold Mining at Protected Historical Site. By Paul Rimple (eurasianet.org)

(eurasianet.org) It turns out the choice between gold and historical preservation is an easy one to make for officials in Georgia: the government is going for gold.

EurasiaNet.org has learned the Georgian Ministry of Culture and Heritage Protection has given Russian-owned mining company RMG Gold the green light to excavate gold from Sakdrisi-Kachagiani, a nine-hectare site in southeastern Georgia that many archeologists claim contains the remnants of one of the world's oldest gold mines. In 2004, archeologists from the National Museum of Georgia and the German Mining Museum unearthed caves and mining tools at the site that are believed to date to the third millennium, BC.

It is uncertain when the company will begin mining the site. Approximately half of its workforce has been on strike since January 24, seeking higher wages. Some critics hint the company is using the archeological controversy as cover for questionable labor practices.

Opponents are also upset with the government’s evident willingness to allow the destruction of what may be a unique site. Officials have additionally brushed off a call by civil-society activists for an independent study into Sakdrisi the site’s archeological significance.

During a March 17 trip by a EurasiaNet.org correspondent to the area, accompanied by government representatives, two manned security vehicles sat outside the entrance to Sakdrisi-Kachagiani. The company continues to block entrance to the site, even to Ministry of Environment officials.  It cites the potential for damage by outsiders and lingering issues about the site’s status as the cause.

Caves and mining tools discovered at the site during a 2004 excavation by the National Museum of Georgia and the German Mining Museum are believed to date to the third millennium, BC.

But in its March 14 decision, the Culture Ministry cited a supposed lack of proof that Sakdrisi had ever functioned as a gold mine as a reason for lifting the site's protected status as a a "cultural monument." For the past eight years, Sakdrisi had enjoyed protection, a designation that prevented mining at the site, located near the village of Kazreti, where a vast copper mine owned by RMG Gold's sibling, RMG Copper, is located.

In a March 13 discussion with university students, Prime Minister Irakli Gharibashvili indicated that another factor played into the government’s decision to lift the site’s protected status. Noting the supposed lack of evidence for Sakdrisi's past, the prime minister stressed that RMG Gold has invested $300 million into the Georgian economy and employs 3,000 people. For a country with an official unemployment rate of 16 percent, an economic growth rate of under 2 percent such earnings and employment figures are not exactly trivial. In addition, the government experienced a drastic shortfall in tax revenues for 2013.

RMG Gold, an entity that evolved from Georgia’s former mega-mining company Madneuli, is believed to rank as one of the country's largest taxpayers. RMG Gold executives claim that to find fresh gold and maintain their operations, they need access to Sakdrisi-Kachagiani. With gold prices now at $43.67 per gram, it appears it wasn’t difficult for officials to buy into RMG Gold’s argument. In 2013, gold accounted for 2.9 percent ($35.52 million) of the country’s export earnings.

Gocha Aleksandria, vice-president of the Georgian Trade Union Confederation, is among RMG Gold’s critics who note that the company started complaining about the Sakdrisi ban’s adverse impact on earnings only after it was hit with a strike.  RMG Gold representatives have claimed that as long as they can’t mine the area, they cannot pay higher wages or keep on idle workers. On January 31, one week after the strike began, the company dismissed 184 workers allegedly for these reasons.

"We see it as retaliation for the strike,” Aleksandria said, speaking for the confederation's membership.

The government has appointed mediators to settle the strike, but Aleksandria says the process is moving slowly. Even with a full work force, Mikheil Kvaratskhelia, head of RMG Gold's Health, Safety and Environment Department, reckons it will be "a couple of years" before the Sakdrisi-Kachagiani site is blasted for mining.

Skirting Sakdrisi-Kachagiani, the last in a series of five ore pits, is not an option, the company says. Geologists claim that ore from the site, believed to be the richest in gold, must be blended with that from the four other pits to get a consistent grade of gold.  Preliminary exploration work has only just begun on the first pit, about two kilometers away.

Civil-society activists are bracing for a long fight. "The government has a responsibility to explain, to argue its position, not just ignore [opponents]," commented Kakha Bakhtadze, a representativer of the Caucasus Environmental NGO Network (CENN), one of the signers of a petition to Prime Minister Gharibashvili to preserve Sakdrisi's protected status.

The disregard that officials have exhibited toward those Georgians who want to protect Sakdrisi, "means that tomorrow the government can decide to destroy another cultural monument and do what it wants," Bakhtadze alleged.

The message the Culture Ministry is sending is mixed. In a March 14 statement, it called the claims about Sakdrisi's archeological value a "myth," yet it also announced intentions to invite independent international experts to monitor RMG Gold's mining at the site in case of "some scientific" discovery.

For Irakli Matcharashvili, program coordinator at Green Alternative, another of the Georgian NGOs opposing the ministry's decision, the plan makes no sense. "If this is a myth, why do they need a commission of experts? It's just words."

RMG Gold spokesperson Ekatarina Jojua has no information about a potential monitoring. "It's beyond our scope," Jojua said. "It's not clear who or how this will be done. It's up to the ministry."

Bakhtadze, the CENN representative,believes the government is suffering from short-sightedness. "The mine might be around for five or ten years. That's all. They will have destroyed the environment and [our] cultural heritage."

Editor's note: Paul Rimple is a freelance reporter based in Tbilisi.

DISPATCH: Are Georgia's Elections a Sign of Mature Democracy? By Paul Rimple (foreignpolicy.com)

(foreignpolicy.com) Or, after two years of bitter political feuds, maybe there's more trouble brewing in the Caucasus.

TBILISI, Georgia — October 27 marked a major turning point in Georgia as people calmly elected an obscure philosopher, Giorgi Margvelashvili, president with a conclusive 62 percent of the vote. It was the first time in Georgia's history an incumbent was replaced by the ballot and not by revolt.

The election of Margvelashvili, representing the ruling Georgian Dream (GD) party, has effectively closed the chapter on the Saakashvili era, a decade of lightning-speed reform and economic progress at the cost of an increasing authoritarianism that applied justice selectively and harshly. This change could not have been possible without the intervention of the enigmatic Georgian billionaire, Bidzina Ivanishvili, and his GD party.

In October 2011, Ivanishvili held his very first press conference in his $50 million Tbilisi mansion after announcing his decision to enter politics and challenge President Mikheil Saakashvili's monopoly on power. I had hoped to learn how the former recluse was different from every other Georgian messiah who promised to save the country only to get deposed in the end, but I never got the chance. The event instantly digressed into a ludicrous fracas of 200 journalists fighting over a microphone and shouting caustic questions about the billionaire's Russian connections and his pet penguin.

My chance came the day before parliamentary elections in 2012 at a private home in an east Georgian village, at a dinner table overflowing with food, sitting across from Ivanishvili, who had just finished his last round of campaigns. Between bites of sumptuous Kakhetian fare, he spoke obliquely of judicial reform and ethnic tolerance and sounded off bluntly about Saakashvili's failures. In the end, I didn't learn much about the man, except that he intended to build democratic institutions without a concrete plan. For Georgians, that breath of fresh air was enough: his party won.

For Saakashvili and his United National Movement (UNM), it was a shocking loss. Misha (as Saakashvili is commonly known) swallowed his pride and acknowledged defeat, marking Georgia's first ever democratic transfer of power. But with a year left in his term, the lame duck president was forced to share an uneasy period of cohabitation with Ivanishvili and the GD, a loose coalition of individuals bent on destroying Misha's legacy.

The tumult of the past year was underscored by the indictments of some three dozen UNM officials, including several former ministers, most notably Vano Merabishvili, former interior minister and prime minister. Meanwhile, some ministers have escaped abroad, like former justice minister Zurab Adeishvili. Many of Georgia's Western partners criticized the political nature of these arrests, yet Ivanishvili maintained he wasn't settling scores -- he was restoring justice and bringing democracy to the country.

Back in Ivanishvili's futuristic mansion, one month before this year's presidential elections, I asked him if he wasn't trying to destroy Misha.

"Why should I destroy? I'm not a sick person. They are destroying themselves. I like to build," he replied.

In 2010, the Saakashvili government amended the constitution to increase the prime minister's authority and decrease the president's. Because the constitution prohibits the president from serving more than two terms, most people here thought Misha would simply change chairs to remain in power. But GD crushed such speculation when they took over parliament and elected Ivanishvili prime minister in 2013. But it's a position the billionaire apparently doesn't want.

In September, Ivanishvili reiterated a campaign promise to leave politics and enter civil society after elections. Next week, he will name his successor. This will leave the country in the hands of his party, a loose coalition of liberals, conservatives, and ethnic nationalists. Georgia will become the first former Soviet nation governed by a parliament and not ruled by a strong executive. And it's a move most Georgians were against.

"That's because when people look at things they like to hang all the responsibility on one person," Ivanishvili said. "But every single person needs to share the responsibility in order for society to evolve. Having a messiah is detrimental to a society. The longer I stay, the worse it will be."

Critics worry that parliament will fall into chaos upon Ivanishvili's departure or, conversely, that he will simply keep pulling the strings from behind the curtain. Others, like Lincoln Mitchell, a scholar at Columbia University's Harriman Institute and former unofficial advisor to the prime minister, believes that Ivanishvili is betting that institutions are stronger than people. However, he has no doubts that the billionaire will continue to be involved behind the scenes.

"I think most Georgians know that and are OK with that. It is extremely difficult for the political class in Georgia to understand that things are not as volatile as they were a year or two ago. The institutions are stable," he says.

Well, stable of a sort. Lawmakers have raised eyebrows by discussing laws to ban the sale of ribbed condoms and fine officials who don't speak Georgian well enough. But they have also passed laws to protect the independence of the judiciary and to ensure more transparency in media ownership.

When it comes to minority rights, however, the disparate parliament has seen some internal conflict. When several dozen Georgian Orthodox Christian priests led a mob of thousands to attack a handful of gay rights activists demonstrating against homophobia, GD Chairman David Saganelidze blamed the activists for the violence that ensued and demanded they be punished. GD coalition member and parliamentary speaker Davit Usupashvili of the Republican Party, however, condemned the attack.

Usupashvili also spoke out against the forced removal of a minaret in a southern Georgian village in August, while much of the government kept silent. This was the latest in a series of anti-Muslim crusades that have occurred across the country since the deputy head of parliament, the GD's Murman Dumbadze, lead a protest against the construction of a mosque in the western port city of Batumi last year before parliamentary elections. Yet, Ivanishvili, the first politician to say "sexual minorities are equal members of society," asserts that Georgia is an inherently tolerant country.

"This [intolerance] is all artificially amplified by Saakashvili," he said abstrusely. "When the cohabitation is finished, there won't be a problem."

That might be so, but there will still be xenophobes and homophobes in parliament, like in every other country in the world. What remains to be seen is how well Georgia will be able to protect minority rights. In his report, Thomas Hammarberg, the European Union special adviser on constitutional and legal reform and human rights in Georgia, noted the country's shortcomings in protecting the rights of religious, ethnic, and sexual minorities.

But the issue that will really determine parliament's future is jobs. Officially, Georgia's unemployment rate hovers around 16 percent. Realistically, it is double that. In a September 2013 National Democratic Institute (NDI) poll carried out by the Caucasus Research Resource Centers (CRRC), jobs were the top national concern; some 46 percent of the population consider themselves unemployed and looking for a job.

Ivanishvili offers no answers here, only that he spends most of his time working on the "challenges" of job creation and the economy.

Under Saakashvili, the economy soared to an average GDP growth rate of 6.1 percent between 2004-2012. But in the first half of 2013, it plummeted to 1.8 percent. Critics were quick to blame this plunge on the government's wobbly transition process, yet foreign direct investment didn't just drop in Georgia, it fell across the entire region in 2012. Moreover, local business leaders are worried the government's recent policies like liberalizing the labor code and forbidding foreigners from buying agriculture land are keeping investors away.

On the bright side, in June, Russia lifted its 7-year embargo on wine, mineral water, and fruits. This is particularly good news for winegrowers in eastern Georgia, who are reporting the most successful season in years. According to the Georgian Wine Agency, July exports were 43 percent higher than last year, a spike almost wholly attributed to Russia. But establishing economic ties with Russia, which occupies roughly 20 percent of Georgian territory poses some existential problems, particularly when it is putting up barbed-wire fences through Georgian villages. To this thaw in relations with Moscow, Ivanishvili shrugs his shoulders, saying it's not his fault Saakashvili got suckered into war.

"It's important for any small country to not provoke a big neighbor," Ivanishvili advises. "We can't attempt to change Russia, but we can save our state by taking the correct steps, which we are doing."

Meanwhile, Saakashvili argues publicly that you cannot "normalize relations" with an occupier and is livid that Ivanishvili would even consider joining the Kremlin's Eurasian Union project, in reference to comments the prime minister made on the initiative in September. In a televised statement, the president accused Ivanishvili of "breaking the main taboo of Georgian politics."

Ivanishvili retorts that it's plain nonsense. "As a state, our strategy remains European and NATO integration. That is very clear. Who knows what the Eurasian Union is? I don't think the Russians even know," says Ivanishvili. "All I said was that we are closely watching this formation process. I stress, if it does not come into conflict with our strategy, why shouldn't we discuss it?"

And, perhaps, time for more sober discussions on all things have arrived. With Saakashvili packing his bags and returning to his apartment in central Tbilisi and Ivanishvili preparing to step down, we may see an end to a bitter rivalry between two forces of Georgian politics that polarized the political landscape since Ivanishvili first announced his challenge in 2011. On Sunday, David Bakradze, the UNM's unobtrusive presidential candidate, gracefully congratulated his opponent Giorgi Margvelashvili's victory -- a mature gesture we are unaccustomed to seeing in Georgia, a country now putting the era of larger-than-life leaders behind them.

PHOTO ESSAY: Georgia: Two Decades Later, Still Searching for the Missing. By Paul Rimple, Molly Corso, and Justyna Mielnikiewicz (eurasianet.org)

(photogallery: eurasianet.org) The last time 76-year-old Venera Oshoridze saw her son, Kakha, was September 15, 1993.

A pensive 20-year-old who loved his friends, his mother’s fried potatoes, and dreamed of going to college, Kakha volunteered to fight in the Abkhaz war just days before Tbilisi lost the battle for Sokhumi on September 27, 1993.
“He wasn’t like the others. He was a quiet boy, always thinking about something,” Oshoridze said, pointing to photo of a serious young man with solemn brown eyes. 

Both of Oshoridze’s sons went to war, but while her elder son returned, Kakha vanished without a trace. Like nearly 2,000 other men and women (most of them Georgian) from the 1992-1993 war between Tbilisi and separatist forces in Abkhazia, he has been missing for the past two decades. 

Immediately after the conflict, Oshoridze started looking for her son, as scores of Abkhaz and Georgian parents joined forces to locate, identify and, when possible, rebury their children. 

The grassroots effort, eventually led by the Georgian non-governmental organization Molodini (Expectations) and the Abkhaz NGO Mothers of Abkhazia for Peace & Social Justice, used personal connections and references from government officials to find answers. 

Georgian parents like Oshoridze traveled to Abkhazia to search, learning firsthand of their children’s deaths through scraps of clothing and body remains. Working together with the Abkhaz, they unearthed and identified bodies based on fragments -- a bandaged arm, dollars folded in a pocket, the remains of a synthetic jacket.

Eventually, the bilateral search helped return 314 bodies to Abkhaz and Georgian families, according to historian Vladimir Dobordjginidze, who, together with the current Georgian state minister for reintegration, Paata Zakareishvili, was involved in the initial project. 

Finding the missing and returning the dead, noted Dobordjginidze, whose son, Zura, disappeared during the fight for Sokhumi, is a non-political issue that provided a connection between Abkhaz and Georgians. “We had great contacts [with the Abkhaz],” he said. “My son died, but that does not mean I am mad at them. We met as ordinary people.”

The Abkhaz also emphasize the “humanitarian” nature of the initiative. “In the Caucasus, it’s important to go to your loved one’s grave. [It’s] like a birthday,” said Asida Lomaia, a project associate for the Mothers of Abkhazia for Peace & Social Justice. Her cousin, Arzamet Tarba, is among those missing. 

“It doesn't matter what nationality -- you keep hope that they may be alive.”
The 2008 war between Russia and Georgia, which resulted in Moscow formally acknowledging breakaway Abkhazia and South Ossetia as independent states, has complicated the search for the missing.

The last exchange, in 2006, involved the return of 62 bodies from a mass grave of 95 Georgians at Sokhumi’s Babushera Airport. (And the return of the living as well -- two young women, said Dobordjginidze).

Another two bodies from Sokhumi were sent to Georgian families “via independent channels” this spring, according to Leonid Lakerbaia, Abkhazia’s de-facto prime minister.

The 2008 war heightened the sensitivity of these joint searches for both sides, but also provided a new urgency for finding the missing. Inspired by the success of an ICRC-organized mission in breakaway South Ossetia, the Abkhaz and Georgians agreed to a Red-Cross proposal for a similar format for identifying the missing from the 1992-1993 war.

Kakhaber Kemoklidze, head of the analytical department at the Ministry of Interior Affairs in Tbilisi, said the ministry, which keeps records on missing individuals from the Abkhaz war, is willing to help efforts to locate and identify the missing. But, Kemoklidze added, it is as much an issue of trust as it is of political will.

Cooperation with de-facto Abkhaz authorities has not always been easy, Kemoklidze noted, adding that the ICRC’s role as mediators is “really important and invaluable.”

Lakerbaia agreed that the present operation would not be possible without the Red Cross’ help. “I don’t see any straight cooperation with Georgia possible,” he said, “but we have a common goal -- to find unknown remains, identify them and return them to their relatives. That’s the main task for all of us.”

Under the ICRC’s oversight, two official representatives from each side meet once a year in neutral locations, such as Istanbul, Kyiv and Yerevan, to compare and exchange lists of names and information on gravesites. The information includes how bodies were buried, their condition, and the names of any witnesses of the death or burial. 

Agreement now has been reached to continue the search at Sokhumi’s Glory Park, where the bodies and remains of 63 unknown individuals are buried. The ICRC recently sent DNA samples from this first batch of remains, exhumed by Argentine forensic scientists, to Zagreb, Croatia for comparison with DNA from families of the missing. Russia, which has troops stationed in Abkhazia, is not involved in the process.

Meanwhile, the families wait. “The exhumation process for many mothers is a starting process of non-acceptance to acceptance. The families need some sense of closure,” said Khatuna Logua, a psychologist at the ICRC office in Sokhumi.
Psychological counselling for these families, whether in Sokhumi or Georgian-controlled territory, has not been an official priority. “Some people don’t want to believe their relatives are dead,” said Logua. “You hear people talk of fantasies of secret prisons [containing the missing] on both sides.”

So far, noted Oshonidze and other Georgian parents, time has worked against identification efforts. Surviving family members of the missing have died or moved, taking with them vital information that could help identify bodies.
For Georgian pensioner Tristin Andriadze, whose son, Konstantin, went missing in October 1993, the only hope is that families on both sides will be given another chance to find their loved ones. “After so many years, it is likely they are dead, but, in my heart, I still have hope that something will be found; at least, where they were buried,” he said. 

Editor's Note: 

Molly Corso is a freelance journalist who also works as editor of Investor.ge, a monthly publication by the American Chamber of Commerce in Georgia. Paul Rimple is a freelance reporter based in Tbilisi. Justyna Mielnikiewicz is a freelance photojournalist also based in Tbilisi.

BBC: Georgia's mighty Orthodox Church . By Paul Rimple (bbc.co.uk)

(bbc.co.uk) When several dozen Georgian Orthodox priests led tens of thousands of people on a violent attack against a small group of gay rights activists in Tbilisi earlier this year, much of the rest of the country was horrified, writes journalist Paul Rimple, who has been based in the country for 10 years.

Georgians pride themselves on their reputation for being hospitable and tolerant, and most consider themselves Christian.

While the notion of homosexuality is not widely understood or accepted in this deeply traditional Caucasus nation, most Georgians were appalled by the scenes that unfolded in Tbilisi on 17 May.

And yet, what happened clearly illustrates the importance of the Church in Georgia.

Georgia was an early adopter of Christianity making it a state religion in 337AD. Georgians maintained their faith over the centuries despite the waves of invading hordes, including the armies of Ghengis Khan and Tamerlane. 

Although the Soviets permitted religion to be practised, its reach was severely limited. In 1917, there were 2,455 working churches in Georgia, but by the mid-1980s there were only 80, along with a few monasteries and a seminary. 

"During communism, the church was outdated, something for old ladies," says political analyst Ghia Nodia. 

That attitude quickly changed after independence in 1991, when the elected president, Zviad Gamsakhurdia, espoused a philosophy of ethnic nationalism, which the Church embraced.

"During the (Gamsakhurdia) national movement, the concept that real Georgians are Orthodox Christians spread really fast," Mr Nodia says.

Over 80% of Georgia's 4.5 million people say they belong to the Georgian Orthodox Church, however, experts claim only about 15% - 25% actively participate in rituals. 

Nevertheless, the Orthodox Church remains the most trusted institution in Georgia. In a February survey carried out by the Caucasus Resource Research Center (CRRC), 95% of respondents had a favourable opinion of its work.

Beka Mindiashvili, a former theologian who is now head of the Tolerance Center at the public defender's office, attributes such high confidence in the Church to the 80-year-old Patriarch, Ilia II. 

"He possesses all the right attributes. He is charismatic, he speaks slowly and each word is regarded saintly, holy," Mr Mindiashvili says. 

"He is a person for everybody. To a simple person, he speaks simply; to a politician, he speaks politically; to an intellectual, he speaks of Umberto Eco and of classical music. And he acquired absolute power in the Church all by himself."

There were only about 50 priests when Ilia II became patriarch in 1977. Today there are approximately 1,700. 

His first major test in power was in 1997, when a number of anti-ecumenical abbots threatened to break communion with him for being too liberal. He avoided a schism by breaking off ecumenical activities and pursuing what philosopher Zaza Piralishvili calls an "imitation of medieval rhetoric". 

Examples of the Church's ultra-conservative interventions included warnings that yoga was full of false "charms" that lured people away from God as well as a recent mass mobilisation against ID cards after some Georgian Orthodox leaders claimed the cards bore the mark of the anti-Christ. 

The Church is recognised for maintaining a neutral political stance and Ilia II is renowned for playing a significant role as mediator in political confrontations, which in Georgia can easily turn violent. 

Professor Iago Kachkachishvili, head of the sociology department at Tbilisi State University, says the Church's political neutrality is a myth. 

"The Church's influence comes from public opinion," he says. "It uses the trust of the people as a source of strength. And every government and politician uses the Georgian Orthodox Church as a source of legitimacy."

While the constitution stipulates a separation between church and state, a 2002 concordat defined this relationship by granting the Church official recognition in Georgia and a special consultative role in the government, particularly in education. 

In 2009, Mikheil Saakashvili's government awarded the Church a $15m (£10m) grant - three times the amount of the previous year - and presented luxury sports utility vehicles to each of the 10 archbishops.

Despite the lavish gifts, many conservative elements within the Church, who are pro-Russian, openly voiced their displeasure with the president. They saw his pro-Western orientation as a threat to Georgian traditions and the Church's influence on the people.

The clash of ideologies came to head in July 2011, when parliament passed a law allowing religious minority groups in Georgia to be registered as legal entities in public law giving them legal protection previously only enjoyed by the Orthodox Church. 

The move was applauded in the West, but the Georgian Orthodox Church saw this as an infringement on its special status. 

Although Ilia II requested the clergy to maintain neutrality in the 2012 parliamentary elections, many priests broke ranks and openly supported the coalition of billionaire Bidzina Ivanishvili, who had provided the funds to build Tbilisi's Sameba Cathedral, the largest church in Georgia. 

But on 13 May, Bidzina Ivanishvili who by now was prime minister, took an independent stance and became the first Georgian politician to declare openly that sexual minorities were equal citizens of this country. 

Three days later, Ilia II called on the authorities to ban the 17 May demonstration. This marked the first open confrontation between church and state and culminated in expletive-shouting priests chasing gay activists down the main streets of the capital. 

Protesters broke through barricades and police were forced to bus the small number of activists out of the area for their protection.

The day after the attacks, Tbilisi artist Magda Guruli joined some 100 people who rallied in the city centre to call for justice. 

She believes the response to the protest was a manifestation of the patriarch's power over the state. 

"I'm here to say give me back my religion," she said. "Orthodoxy is part of our culture, but who are these people who try to influence society and try to influence their thoughts and try to cultivate blind faith?"

ARTICLE: Saakashvili Gives Birth To a Real Opposition. By Paul Rimple (themoscowtimes.coml)

(themoscowtimes.coml) About 10,000 people gathered Friday in front of Tbilisi's parliament building to hear President Mikheil Saakashvili and members of his United National Movement party, or UNM, bash Prime Minister Bidzina Ivanishvili. The last time the UNM held an opposition rally was in 2003, when it led tens of thousands of people to protest rigged parliamentary elections and ended up overthrowing the regime of Eduard Shevardnadze. The times have truly changed.

Members of the UNM want us to believe that 30,000 people showed up while Ivanishvili's majority party, Georgian Dream, took credit for allowing 5,000 to peacefully gather to criticize them. Either way, the fact thousands and not hundreds of people came out is a sign that the UNM is still a relevant party. 
 
Not all of the 10,000 people who attended the rally were UNM supporters. Some were chronic protesters that come out regardless of the message. Others were curious. The UNM is rebranding itself as a new party that has learned from its mistakes. Convincing people that this is the case is one thing. Getting them to realize how important it is for the country to have a competent opposition is another. 

Georgian Dream leader and speaker of parliament Davit Usupashvili understands this. He says the "survival" of UNM is the task of the Georgian democracy. Sadly, few of his colleagues share these sentiments.
Since coming into power, Georgia Dream has spared no efforts to make the UNM pay for its sins by trying to obliterate it. The new authorities have arrested a score of former UNM officials and have initiated investigations into Saakashvili's closest allies. Ivanishvili wants Saakashvili to answer questions about the 2008 war with Russia. Two days before the rally, Georgia Dream released declassified information on how Saakashvili spent public funds on extravagant holidays and luxurious gifts. In the experiment called democratization, Georgia hasn't yet figured out it should be nurturing democratic competition instead of eliminating it.

Nevertheless, we are witnessing a new era in Georgian politics where bills actually get debated and the president exercises his right to veto. The UNM is an opposition with a vision and experience. It is also the most competent body there is to keep Georgian Dream in check. Who cares how many came out to demonstrate on Friday? Finally, a political rally was held in Tbilisi in which nobody demanded that the leader of the ruling party to step down.

PHOTOGRAPHY: Georgia: Officials See Trade as Way to Promote Ossetian Peace. By Paul Rimple and Justyna Mielnikiewicz (eurasianet.org)

(eurasianet.org) In the Georgian village of Ergneti, many still look at the South Ossetian peace process down the barrel of a gun. But villagers and the Georgian government hope that, one day, progress will be measured by growing trade at the local market.

Located between South Ossetian and Georgian checkpoints on the road between the Georgian regional center of Gori and the Russian city of Vladikavkaz, Ergneti today is one of the coldest spots in the frozen conflicts involving Georgia and the breakaway territories of South Ossetia and Abkhazia. That wasn’t always the case: the town was once the site of one of the largest wholesale markets in the Caucasus.

A decade ago, thousands of ethnic Ossetians, Georgians and others used to mingle and trade freely each day, despite the territorial conflicts among them. Then, in 2004, the government of Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili closed the market down on the grounds that it was a smuggling den that was costing the Georgian state $120 million per year in lost tax revenue.

For Ergneti residents, the market’s closure meant a loss of jobs and income. Still trying to rebuild homes that were looted and razed by South Ossetian militia during the 2008 Georgian-Russian war, their options for employment are now few. The village’s perilous location discourages pretty much any economic activity other than subsistence farming. Georgian police manning the sandbagged border crossing point to a burned-out hotel 100 meters away and say there are no longer snipers there. Villagers point out where Russian tanks stand with their turrets aimed at them.

In a campaign speech last summer, calling the Ergneti market’s closure a huge mistake, Prime Minister Bidzina Ivanishvili promised to reopen the bazaar in a bid to normalize ties with South Ossetia.

But, in his efforts to make that pledge a reality, Prime Minister Ivanishvili needs South Ossetia’s cooperation and, so far, the separatists are in no hurry to re-establish links with Tbilisi. On January 28, Boris Chochiyev, the region’s de-facto prime minister, warned that resuming cross-border trade with Georgian-controlled territory would bring “great harm to the republic of South Ossetia." He added that the issue should be “removed from the agenda,” the South Ossetian news agency Res reported.

Many people in the South Ossetian capital, Tskhinvali, however, like the idea of reopening the Ergneti market, according to Zarina Sanakoeva, a Tskhinvali-based journalist for RFE/RL’s Ekho Kavkaza radio service. Yet, political reality is another matter. “If you talk about opening the market, first you need to deal with the crossing of the border,” Sanakoeva said. “Everyone understands this.”

Nearly five years after the war, nobody from Ergneti crosses the border, locals say. Visits from the South Ossetian side also no longer occur.

Georgian State Minister for Reintegration Paata Zakareishvili supports reopening the Ergneti market to revive ties with South Ossetia residents. Both South Ossetia and breakaway twin Abkhazia, he maintains, should be engaged, not isolated, and commerce is the most neutral tool for accomplishing that.

But he cautioned that it’s too early to talk about reopening the Ergneti market. “The project should exist, but the foundation is not ready yet,” Zakareishvili said.

Tskhinvali reportedly refuses to talk to Tbilisi until Georgian leaders recognize “the genocide” that South Ossetia’s de-facto government claims was committed against ethnic Ossetians during the 2008 war. Tbilisi’s policy “is not to respond to their [Ossetians’] rhetoric.” Instead, Zakareishvili said, the Georgian government aims to drop the aggressive language that he claims marked President Saakashvili’s territorial reintegration policies, and try to get Tskhinvali talking by clearing the air.

In South Ossetia’s case, this means providing gas, drinking water and irrigation to both sides of the administrative border, including to previously Georgian-held villages within South Ossetia. For Abkhazia, the focus is on restoring a railway from Tbilisi -- a proposal not universally embraced.

In January, President Saakashvili, who had also touted the railway idea in 2005, argued that addressing the issue outside of the context of the removal of Russian troops from Abkhazia would be “criminal and anti-Georgian.” Otherwise, the railway will “only serve Russia,” he charged.

Some independent Georgian analysts, including Giorgi Tarkan-Mouravi, co-director of the Institute for Policy Studies, agree. “Georgia and Abkahzia will just be a corridor for Russia and Armenia,” Tarkan-Mouravi predicted, in reference to the Russian military base near the Armenian town of Gyumri.

To Zakareishvili, that argument is weak. The railroad would bring benefits of economic development and reduced tensions to everyone, he insisted.

But before any progress can be made, he acknowledged, Russia will have to distance itself from its recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia’s independence – an unlikely move. “Russia has been a hostage of its own stance,” Zakareishvili said.

In Ergneti, residents maintain that, for both sides, it was ordinary people who ended up being the war’s biggest losers. The process of forgiveness needs more time and contact must be made, they say. Right now, the phone is the only option for contact between families and friends separated by just a few kilometers.

“We have to start talking and it’s possible,” said one Ergneti veteran of the 2008 war. “We need the market.”

Editor's Note: Paul Rimple is a freelance reporter based in Tbilisi. Justyna Mielnikiewicz is a freelance photojournalist also based in Tbilisi.

PHOTOESSAY: Georgia: The Tbilisi Circus Comes with Conflict Resolution, Plus Clowns. By Paul Rimple and Justyna Mielnikiewicz (eurasianet.org)

(eurasianet.org) Hundreds of spectators drop their jaws and look up to watch a man suspended from the ceiling by his arms. His wife, suspended above him, steps on his head, then his back, and twirls him like a pinwheel as they slowly float down to the center of the ring.

Tbilisi’s 125-year-old circus is back in action, and its shows, playing to sell-out crowds, are proving that, for all the ethnic and geopolitical differences that split apart the Soviet Union, under the big top, circus performers remain part of one big family.

“Circus artists are not political,” commented 76-year old circus caretaker Arkady “Shekir” Parsadanishvili, who, in Soviet times, performed with a team of ethnic Uzbek, Georgian and North Caucasian “djigits” or stunt-horsemen. “They have no nationality.”

Instead, they have talent. Past armed conflicts over breakaway South Ossetia notwithstanding, a seven-man troupe of ethnic Ossetian trick-equestrians, the Ensemble Alania, was a Tbilisi-crowd favorite at a show this January.

"We worried how the Georgian public will meet us, an Ossetian team,” the group, whose members hail from throughout the Russian Federation, conceded on Facebook. A posted video indicates that all went well.

Their arrival even supposedly improved the health of retired rider Shekir. In a New Year’s Eve toast, he told the Ossetian riders that his blood pressure had normalized with their arrival in Tbilisi, and that his traumatized legs even seemed to hurt less.

Being a djigit is not about being “an acrobat on a horse,” commented ensemble member Arsen Batiyev, a 53-year circus veteran from North Ossetia, in the Russian Federation. It is about “character, temperament, style . . . the Caucasus.”

As elsewhere in the region, the civil unrest and economic crisis that followed the Soviet Union’s 1991 collapse dealt a blow to Georgia’s state-financed collective of circus artists, many of whom ended up retiring or moving abroad to work.

But although economic times, including in Georgia, may have improved, some aspects of the Soviet circus culture have now vanished.

Russian tiger tamer, Olga Denisova, whose father was a first-generation acrobatics instructor at the prestigious Moscow State Circus School, said the old-time family dynasties of circus virtuosos are starting to disappear as more athletes join the circus ranks. “They’re sport people and don’t know anything about the circus,” Denisova said.

The history of the Georgian circus goes back to 1888, when the big top went up as the first in a network of circuses set up throughout the then Russian Empire. After its original building burned down in 1911, the circus moved on to a wine factory, before setting up shop in 1939 inside its present neo-classical, Stalin-era home in central Tbilisi. The building’s 2,000-seat capacity ranked it among the largest circuses in the Soviet Union, alongside Moscow, Kyiv and Baku.

After the circus fell into disrepair during the 1990s, the late Georgian tycoon Badri Patarkatsiashvili bought the circus in 2003 and began extensive renovations, in what he claimed was a labor of love.

The circus closed in 2007 after Patarkatsiashvili backed protests against President Mikheil Saakashvili and was accused of conspiring to overthrow the government. It took Patarkatsiashvili’s sister, Mzia Tortladze, until New Year’s Eve 2011 to reopen the circus.

Political dynamics aside, the most difficult hurdle was gaining the respect of the circus world, commented General Director Levan Gagvishvili. “We, the management, have no circus background and weren’t trusted. But we established our reputation after the second show, which was with an international collective . . . ” Gagvishvili recounted.

That reputation is critical. The circus world is an underground society. Unlike professional athletes who become household names and gain corporate sponsorships, the glory for circus artists comes from recognition by their peers.

With that in mind, the circus’s new directors have a vision to put Tbilisi on the world circus map, and to invite more stars, including the acclaimed Cirque du Soleil.

The circus, though, remains an uphill struggle. Georgia’s moribund economic situation means that “tickets need to be cheap;” between 10 to 25 laris (about $6 to $15), Gagvishvili said. To make ends meet, the circus rents out its building for birthday parties and is looking into setting up a kindergarten, too.

But for celebrated clown Anton Pilossian, a native Tbilisian whose face adorns a series of Grenadine postage stamps of world-famous clowns, the circus is not a business, but an art.

“A clown can exist without a circus, but a circus can barely exist without a clown,” noted Pilossian, who last performed in Tbilisi in 1986.

The proof – not surprisingly, some observers might add with a wink – can be found in the Caucasus itself, where the art of performance, in all aspects of life, can run deep and strong.

“I was in Yerevan once and met a very big minister, [an] important man,” Pilossian recollected. “He said to me, ‘You know, deep down inside, I am a clown. Just don’t you tell anybody.’”

Editor's Note: Paul Rimple is a freelance reporter based in Tbilisi. Justyna Mielnikiewicz is a freelance photojournalist also based in Tbilisi.