200 people, one squat toilet, no light. Only in Georgia

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I’m fully aware that have my interview the morning after the wedding, but that I’m even more aware that I’m not going to make it through the evening without drinking so I spend most of the day preparing answers for any questions I think might arise. Eka and Gala disappear into Zugdidi and when they return Eka’s had her hair and nails done and she looks great. Eka’s mother finally arrives from Abhazia and it’s really sweet to see how excited everyone is to see her, especially the kids. I was expecting a cute, wizened old Georgian woman but she turns out to be a rather stylish middle aged lady. Is it wrong that I’m slightly disappointed? Manana (spelling?) brought with her, amongst many foodstuffs, Levani’s diploma which he shows to me proudly. He’s clearly thrilled to have it with him and tells me, ‘Now I have good job.’ As 6pm approaches I notice that no one’s really getting ready and it’s not until we’re about to leave that I realise that it’s only me, Gala, Eka and Nino going to the wedding, which is a shame cos I was looking forward to a big family affair. We drive to the venue, a large house about ten minutes away from ours and there’s a massive marque in the garden. It’s really beautiful, with long tables and benches set up, loads of bottles of drink and baskets of fruit and beautiful decorations everywhere, although you have to question the logic of having a wedding outside in November. It’s freezing and everyone’s dressed in their finest but with mud all over their shoes. Eka and I sit inside for a time with ‘the women.’ I meet a couple of other English teachers from the area. The lady who works at Orsantia school tells me that their volunteer is very uncommunicative and that Eka’s very lucky to have me. In your face Duncan, 21, from Georgia, USA. I notice people going up to one lady and giving her money and Eka tells me that at a Georgian wedding people will bring money as gifts for the couple (fair enough) and that somebody will write down the names of the people and how much they give! Now this strikes me as a little bit odd. On the other hand I guess when we buy a wedding gift for people they’re going to know roughly how much it costs so it’s really just a more transparent version of that. We sit around waiting for things to kick off for a while and, if I’m honest, it’s a little boring. But I find a puppy to play with so I’m happy. Eventually the happy couple arrive and we make our way outside to give them room to receive everybody. The bride is absolutely beautiful. A red ‘carpet’ (piece of cloth) is laid out from the car to the door of the house for the couple to walk down and before they enter the house they break a plate on the ground for luck. Apparently it is a Georgian tradition that if you sleep with a piece of the plate under your bed you will dream about your ‘prince’. Once the couple arrive everybody has to congratulate them. All 200 or so guests file into the room, kiss the bride and groom and file back out again. Finally it’s time to go into the marque. We find a spot on one of the benches and everybody begins to eat and drink and there’s live music at the front of the ‘room’. It turns out that the Georgian tradition of only drinking at the end of a toast isn’t as strict as I thought it was. Everybody makes their own toasts or just seems to drink when they want. Some of Levani’s friends are there sitting at the table behind me and I drink a toast with them ‘for love.’ I always forget that at big Georgian meals (most Georgian meals in fact) whatever is on the table at the beginning is just the start of it and there’s always more to come. As a consequence I eat far too much and feel quite ill. I’m trying not to drink too much cos of my interview so I sit out every third toast or so. One drunken neighbour keeps pestering me which is a pain but he’s annoying everyone and they just ignore him so I try to do the same. One of the best things was that I got to drink out of the drinking horn as it came around. I had been told in the past that only the men get to do this so it was great to be able to try it.
At one point during the festivities I ask Eka if I can go and find the toilet. She insists on coming with me, in the pissing rain, to the bottom of the garden where we find an outhouse with a Turkish toilet. There’s no light and Eka tries to light the inside with matches. This is insane. I have no problem with squat toilets and I’ve used plenty in my time. But there are 200 guests inside eating and drinking heavily. What did they think was going to happen?! I try to tell Eka I don’t need to go that badly, which is true, but she tells me to go behind the toilet while she keeps a lookout. As may be apparent from previous blog entries, there’s not much I won’t do, but I actually draw the line at squatting in my best dress in the mud and the rain behind a toilet in someone else’s garden so I go and stand behind it for a couple of minutes and then return as if I’ve been. Another bizarre experience to add to the ever growing list. Finally the newlyweds come in and take their place at the top table and the tamada is introduced. Now the toasts start for real. Whenever he makes a toast he stands and all the guys sitting on either side of him stand. Then the guys sitting on the opposite side of the room stand up and Eka tells me they will compete to see who can drink the most. I ask if there’s some rivalry between them. No, it’s based entirely on where they happen to be sitting. Before long the dancing starts. Unfortunately, I’m sitting so far back that I can’t see very much. And the next things I know we’re leaving. On the one hand I’m very grateful because it’s still before midnight and I’m conscious of my interview the next morning. On the other hand it would have been nice to have stayed and seen some more of how the night unfolded. I actually get the impression from the way my host family’s acting that it wasn’t the best wedding they’d ever been to. Maia told me the next day that Eka had said to her that the next one will be better. Still, I had a good time and I feel very privileged to have been allowed to be part of it.

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