A Less-than-Normal Weekend in Tbilisi

I had an interesting last couple of days.  I managed to make it to Tbilisi by taking the 8:00 AM marshutka out of Ch'ik'aani (it arrives in Tbilisi at 10:00), which came 15 minutes early.  Luckily, my host father saw it coming (whether he just happened to see it or was watching for it, I don't know), because if he didn't, I would have walked out about five minutes later and have never seen it.

I started to feel a tad ill again (I had been feeling ill off-and-on for about a week and a half at this point), but as I was already in Tbilisi, I didn't see that it made much sense to fret about it.  So I called my new friend Giorgi (whom I met at Mama Davit's supra mentioned in my Oct. 24 blog entry), and in the afternoon he came and took me (along with his very pregnant wife Nino, and thus, their soon-to-be-born son Nik'alai or Nik'olai (it may actually be the normal Georgian Nik'alozi after Saint Nicholas, but I could have sworn I heard Giorgi say Nik'alai, and I know he's named after the saint--a variant spelling in Georgian?)) to his church, Bet'lemi.  It is dedicated to Christ's Nativity, and as the name implies, it is modeled on the church at the spot of Christ's birth in Bethlehem.  It even has a re-creation of the spot where, in the original church, Christ was born, complete with the seven lampadas and the silver star over the hole in the marble to the ground--people familiar with the original church should know what I'm talking about.  It was large, fully frescoed, and gorgeous.  In the arches were the feasts of the Church, the Last Judgement, the Ancient of Days, and so forth.  Of course, the Virgin with Child was in the apse and the Pantocrator (with thrones, cherubim, seraphim, and the ring of OT prophets) was in the dome.  And regardless of the impozing size and beauty of Sameba, this beautiful, fully-frescoed church, all told, is perhaps the most beautiful I have ever been in.

Saturday vigil started soon after we got there, and this fairly large church became very well packed.  It was Vespers and Matins followed by Hours--and I can say, they were some of the longest Vespers and Matins I have participated in (outside special feast days and Holy Week, etc.)--though you should temper that statement with the conditions of me understanding little of what was said and feeling very weak and bad from the illness (which had been worsening over the course of the day).  The priest seemed cool.  It was interesting to watch him cense.  First of all, in censing the higher frescoes, he swung the censer so high above his head I thought the ashes were going to fall out.  Second of all, he used more incense that I had ever seen a priest use before.  After censing the iconostasis and before moving on to the rest of the church he had an altar boy add more incense--which was amazing to me because the incense already in the censer was simply billowing into his face as he did so.  The priest would also stop a few more times as he censed to have more added.  The church, which was a bit hazy from incense before the services started, became wonderfully thick with it as the services continued.

Anyway, I only wish I hadn't been so sick, so I could have better appreciated the service.  At this point, I was already considering going to the hospital (having been sick off-and-on for so long, as I mentioned, I began to figure this was not normal adjustment or slight illness), but I decided to wait it out a bit more first.  So, we went to the bank and then back to Giorgi's house for some food.  Unfortunately, my fever returned in the evening, so I decided to call the insurance company.  It turns out that, even though Giorgi and his wife wanted to take me, and even though his wife is a doctor (which proved very useful, especially since she spoke quite good English) and suggested I go to the hospital, according to my policy, they are always required to send an ambulance and have the EMTs evaluate my condition before taking me.

Long story short, we made it to the hospital.  it was less modern that I would have expected from the capital city (and much smaller than I expected, though that could be because of how they break up the hospital buildings into different specialities and diagnoses), but clean.  The only thing I found less hygienic than I would have liked was the bathroom:  you had to bring your own toilet paper, and the used toilet paper went in the trash, not the toilet.  I've seen this other places, too, but only in very remote places out in the village or country.  I mean, come on--a hospital should be more hygienic, and I would think that in Tbilisi you could get a modern bathroom (like those I've seen all over other places in the city).  Unfortunately, the Georgians in the hospital worry no less than those outside it, and they made me wait for hours while they pumped 1500mL or 2000mL of a "ringer's injection" (i.e., fluid to replace that which I had lost in my illness) into me, while I simply needed to (and because of this, could not) sleep.  The heart of Georgian worrying is in the right place, generally, but sometimes the effect is quite counter-productive to the intent.  I really just went to the hospital to get some lab-work done, to see why I've been sick off-and-on for so long.  I can rehydrate myself anywhere.

Anyway, they let me out on Sunday (though they would have rather kept me longer), but nowhere near early enough to go to morning services.  It's okay, I suppose--I had enough time to read three more chapters of my Genesis book (i.e., Genesis, Creation and Early Man by Heiromonk Seraphim of Platina--the chapters are generally not particularly short).  I picked up a few things in town and had time to go to Giorgi's for a quick bite before getting on the marshutka back home.

So, as my title suggested, I had a less-than-normal weekend--but, though I didn't get everything done that I wanted to, I got everything I needed to done, and now I will know if I need any medicine or if my feeling better today will last, and it was just an odd string of sicknesses.  [As I am posting this on November 10th, while I originally handwrote it on October 31, I can happily say that, as it turns out, the latter was true, and I really was better.]  So, all-in-all, I guess it was a fruitful weekend.

In Christ,

Teopile/Theophilos Porter