Delta Winds: A Magazine of Student Essays A Publication of San Joaquin Delta College 1998

Georgia Before and After the War of 1992

Liliana Tikhonova

Many people have a few memorable places that they keep in mind. These places may be special because of their ability to remind people of some pleasant events connected with these places. Becoming older, people usually do not forget the places that remind them of their lighthearted and happy childhood. They seem to feel a special tenderness and thrill about such places. When somebody takes liberties to destroy these places, people feel the disruption between their present life and past experience. It seems that a piece of something valuable and important is destroyed.

Five years have passed since I left Suhumy, one of the best towns of the former Soviet Union republic of Georgia. I spent the last five years of my childhood in that town. In the summer of 1992, the war between the Abhasians and Georgians began. I had to leave Georgia to escape from hunger or possibly death. Two years later, I returned to see what happened to the places which I loved and people with whom I was acquainted The Georgia which I saw in 1994 was nothing similar to the Georgia of 1992. The environment changed, the buildings were destroyed, and the people changed.

Living in Georgia, I was always impressed with the beauty and exuberance of the nature surrounding me. The mild climate in this country made it possible for people to raise a vast quantity of vegetables and fruits, such as mandarin oranges, grapes, watermelons, peaches, and apricots. Georgia seemed, at that time, to be a unique place in the world because this country contained some of the best specimens of nature from all over the world. Evergreens, such as downy firs and palms, were native to this country. Almost every family in Georgia raised several orange, cherry, and apple trees in front of the family house. The mountains in Georgia were filled with vegetation. I remember my family vacations in the mountains of Georgia. My parents and I enjoyed the birds' singing, the fragrance of the mountain flowers, and the sweet taste of the wild blackberries. I will never forget the Georgia parks, in which I enjoyed feeding nuts to adventurous and cunning squirrels. I remember how tourists were surprised to see peacocks calmly walking along the Georgia streets.

The war totally destroyed the natural environment of Georgia. What I saw in 1994 was comparable to a desert. It no longer had green mountains with blooming plants and gardens. I was looking for the places where my family used to go camping, but I could not recognize these places. Huge areas of the forest had been destroyed by the fire. I was surrounded by fallen and burned trees. Instead of the fields of mountain flowers, I saw the poor and dead ground. It seemed as if birds and animals had left this place forever. I did not see squirrels in the parks or the peacocks walking proudly and calmly along the streets.

The Georgia of 1992 was remarkable with its ancient buildings whose architectural diversity impressed newcomers and tourists visiting the country. Many of these buildings -- ancient churches and monasteries -- existed for several centuries. Time could not destroy them. The houses of famous sculptors and painters seemed to be the real masterpieces Georgians kept as the historical witness for the future generations. Contemporary artisans have been unable to create similar wooden sculpturing and mosaics that decorated these buildings. The pealing of old bells in the monasteries announced time everlasting.

In 1994, these bells did not remind the Georgians about the passing time. Two of them were destroyed forever by the explosions. The explosions of bombs ruined the monastery towers. Rubble piles of stones and lumber replaced the houses of the famous sculptors and painters. Paintings, icons, silver utensils, and memoirs from within the buildings were eviscerated. It was hard to believe that people's hands caused this barbarity.

Before the war, Georgia's beaches and streets were always crowded with tourists. In the summer time, people came from different corners of the Soviet Union to spend their vacations on the Black Sea coast of Georgia. The country was prosperous in part because of the tourism. Hotels, one after another, appeared there to attract people. Walking along the streets, I could hear different languages: Russian, Georgian, and Armenian. The tourists spent much money to buy wooden souvenirs and woolen clothes made by Georgian craftsmen. The people were impressed with the beauty and uniqueness of the traditional Georgian utensils. The secrets of the manufacturing of these utensils had been handed down from one generation to another. Everybody in my town knew a couple of the most sophisticated and experienced craftsmen.

By 1994, the small private shops in which the Georgian craftsmen sold masterpieces had disappeared. The streets of my town were deserted. Walking down the streets, I felt the frightening silence. I could not believe that just a few years before, I had to try hard to make my way through the crowds of people on the streets. In 1994, after two hours of walking along the streets, I met only two old women selling Georgian griddle-cakes. Nobody was selling the traditional Georgian style utensils and wooden masterpieces because they were not functionally needed. Nobody knew exactly what had happened to the sophisticated Georgian craftsmen. People there told me that some of these Masters had left Georgia, and some of the Masters had died. I am afraid that the town will never become full of people again.

During the five years I spent in Georgia, I never had reason to doubt the hospitality, affability, and kindness of the Georgian people. I never heard people quarreling because of different nationalities. Georgians, Russians, Armenians, and Abhasians celebrated their holidays together and lived through their hard times together. Even though the primary languages of these people were different, they understood each other. Their attitudes toward other people were based on the personalities of the other people, not on their nationalities. When a person had a financial or some other problem, he or she could always rely on his or her friends. My parents' house and the houses of my parents' friends were always full of people. When a family had a party, the doors of the house were opened for everybody who would like to come in. When my parents and I went to visit somebody, the person whom we went to see cooked the best dished and served the best wines to us. People there lived in a friendly fashion. The worst human qualities, such as envy, greediness, and apathy, seemed to be non-existent.

In contrast, the war made the people become merciless and malevolent. When I stayed in Georgia, in 1994, I saw people who stole from their own neighbors. People still came together to eat dinner and talk about the past, present, and future life. However, these meetings ended in murders too often. The reasons for these murders were disagreements about the politics and bigotry. Whenever I told somebody I was Russian, I risked humiliation and shame. Since Russia had refused to help Georgia in the war against the Abhasians, I, as well as other Russians, was blamed for the actions of Russia. Almost all of the people whom my parents and I previously knew, refused to communicate with us solely because of our nationality. Overall, the people of Georgia seemed to forget that a few years before, they did everything to help and protect each other.

A war is both terrible and absurd. A war makes everybody who is affected by it feel miserable. People lose their relatives and friends because of this dreadful act. A country that has to live through a war is fated to spend many years reconstructing everything that the war has destroyed in a short period of time. Wars ruin the environment, the cities, and the people. This cataclysm causes some of the traditional values of the people to disappear for many years, if not forever.

I was born in Russia, and Georgia has never been my motherland. However, for the five years I spent in that country, I really loved it. I learned the new language, the people's beliefs, and their traditions. My dreams and expectations were connected with the future of Georgia. The war of 1992 made everything I loved about this country become pitiful, impoverished, and miserable. Despite this, Georgia is still a memorable place I keep in mind.