The house not taken
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God Closes Door, Opens Window
My first disappointment in Georgia came this week when arrangements to rent the artists’ house fell through. It seems the landlady mis-represented the situation with her current tenant, and the place will not be vacant for many weeks yet. We were shocked and angry and sad, but I returned quickly to the hunt and settled yesterday on a smaller place that I had seen and liked earlier. This one we called the garden house because it has a duplex outdoor living area: a tiled terrace with a long wooden table shaded by a grape arbor, and below, a garden with a tiny lawn surrounded by flowering shrubs and foliage plants, a charcoal grill, two nice wooden benches with decorative metal work (a recurring design element, as you will see), and an enormous potted gardenia.
We enter the house at Dariali Street, #3 through a high iron gate that opens to allow a car to pass into the parking area below the house. The exterior of the house is stucco, stained the deep, warm color of bittersweet berries, and all the many windows are covered with decorative ironwork in swooping curves of vines and leaves, like the art nouveau metal work of Vienna. Indoors we have a spacious entry hall with stained-glass French doors on the left, opening to the living/dining room (with fireplace!), and tall windows along the right-hand wall that overlook the garden. The entry hall leads straight to the kitchen, a full bathroom, and master bedroom. The second level, up a curving wooden stair (more ironwork) is one generous, airy space with a sloping ceiling and storage cupboards in the lee of the incline, a wide window at one end and a small round window at the other, a half-bath with washing machine, and a kitchenette (a sink and some cabinetry). This will do very well as the guestroom and our home office. So we have landed softly after all, and the garden house will be a cozy home for winter and a lovely place for welcoming spring and summer.
The weather this week has been spectacularly beautiful, with bright sun and high skies of cloudless blue. Today (Friday) is overcast with a chilly, light rain, but I will bundle up and go to lunch with Suzette, whose husband is chief of a different development project here; she has promised to direct me to a dance studio where she takes fitness classes. Other highlights of this first week: I attended a general meeting of the Tbilisi chapter of the International Women’s Association, of which I am now a member; I bought a Metro card and took my first ride; Christmas decorations are going up along Rustaveli Avenue (we have two Christmases here—December 25 and Orthodox Christmas on January 7, so double the anticipatory commercial hoopla); and my most favorite experience to date from Tbilisi street life—four young women walking arm-in-arm near Tbilisi State University, two of them singing as casually as breathing in glorious polyphonic harmony. This traditional Georgian song is haunting, infused with melancholy and history, beautifully evocative of the Eastern threads that lend texture to the rich fabric of Georgian culture. To see and hear these girls artlessly giving voice to their ancient melodic legacy is startling and moving; the deep respect and love of country implicit in the way they embody a long past in the fast-moving present takes my breath away.