Down, but not Out in Georgia Pt 11: Finale of the Farce: Godot Exists and the Fat Man (not 'Lady') Sings

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Akhaltsikhe, Georgia



July 22^nd 2014



“Every revolution evaporates and leaves behind only the slime of a new bureaucracy”

Franz Kafka



“Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end”

Sony, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel



Finale; Scene 1:

Tuesday July 22^nd: The story of today should not have been needed. I should have been on the bus out of here to Turkey by midday. Except that Georgia suffers from a bureacratic quagmire that I have never before encountered, and it deserves a dedicated write up.

I wake up early and do my stuff. I go to the ATM because yesterday when I heard about my fine and tried to withdrawer the amount from my travel card, there was a limit per day stopping me from getting the required amount. I go again and get the rest out this morning. I pack my bags and 'check out' of my room.

You would think it would be simple enough. I am fined for my ignorance about bringing medicines containing a small amount of codeine into Georgia; I am to be given a criminal conviction for my troubles; and then I am free to leave the country. How long can this take? Already (see Pt 1) I had witnessed two lots of multiple page reports on my case (one by Customs and one by the Police) where I had to sign various documents to show I understood what had happened and what was happening.

My lawyer Paata had told me over a week ago that once we got to this stage it was all a matter of about 40 minutes to go to the court and finish the case. Yesterday the Public Prosecutor had finally arrived at a determination about my plea-bargaining and set my fine at 2,000 lari (Aus $1,220 / 844 euro) .

I meet Paata at 10 am, and now he says to me that we might be done by 5 pm today. I am in annoyed disbelief. We proceed to the Akhaltsikhe Police Station to meet with Tengo (see Pt 1) and the prosecutor at 10.30 am. As it turns out, this meeting was just with Tengo (and Paata and Nino the translator) to prepare documents and reports. I think I might have signed in about 20 places over the next hour as document after document was explained to me. While Tengo is preparing and printing off the various reports, I am told by Paata about a 70 year old American woman who last week was 'caught' with her personal supply of pain-killers. She was having none of this waiting around, employed a private lawyer, and within 3 days had paid a 5,000 lari fine (Aus $3,060 / 2,110 euro) and left Georgia. The price of quick treatment.

But we were still waiting for the prosecutor. After making a call or two, we are to now attend her office in the Government Service Building up the road. We go there and wait about 45 minutes for her to eventually appear. She does exist. There is no tea and biscuits. More documents.... and maybe again another 20 places I had to sign.

Next step, I am given a 'bill' to present at the Georgian Bank down the road to pay my fine. It is now 12.45 pm. I give the teller my 2,000 laris and she asks for one more lari. I later learn that the 1 lari extra charge is for bank services. I watch in disbelief as the teller enters my passport details about 20 times (eventually I twig that there is a glitch in the software and she is having trouble entering data). After an hour (with mounting numbers of customers waiting behind me) the thing is done and I receive an official receipt. It now being 2 pm I know I have missed all chance of getting to the border in time to catch the last Turkish bus to Posof at 3 pm.

Back to the Government Service Building. My lawyer and the translator have been waiting all this time (at taxpayer's expense). We are now needing to appear at the court on the other side of town for the final sign-off. We get there, I am asked by the Prosecutor to sign in another 20 or 30 places after writing (at least 6 times) the lines 'I have had the content and meaning of this document explained to me by a translator and I have understood and accepted them'. I guess this may have actually been true, but the name or the game now is just to sign everything and get out of Georgia. I view her paperwork on me and it's at least a half an inch thick. I speculate on what can fill those pages for this seemingly simple incident. But wait, am I not an international drug smuggler of repute at this point of time?

I am then told that the court cannot schedule me in until 10.30 am the next morning. It is now 3 pm, so back to Irma's and back to my room.

At the end of this day I have a headache.... but no pain-killers in my medical kit. I have to go and buy some new Nurofen from the Apotheka (Pharmacy). No codeine of course, Nurofen FORTE. Cost: 6 lari. Ironic.



Finale; Scene 2:

Wednesday July 23^rd:

So I get myself ready for the court appearance. I even go to the barber's and have my beard trimmed back to respectable “Georgian” stubble. Paata invites me for a pre-court coffee at his office which is just a minute from the Courthouse. We get there for 10.30 am and to my delight things are running on time.

The courthouse is remarkably quiet. Nothing like the chaotic line-up in an Australian court with so many people waiting for their 'day in court'. The courtroom itself is as formal as any courtroom. There is Court Sherriff in attendance; a Court Assistance (who is operating the digital recorder); the Prosecutor on the right; and Paata, me in the middle (the defendant or is it the 'accused' or is it the 'charged and already guilty'?) and Nino (translator) on the left; Just like the movies. xx

The real farce here is that we are going through motions because I have already paid the fine yesterday and have the receipt.

“All rise” (in Georgian of course) and we do.

Now begins a series of rounds whereby the judge (in his black gown but no wig) sternly gives me again and again (or so it seems) the same information that is translated by Nino to me. Alarmingly though, he starts by telling me that I have been charged with an offence (and goes into great detail about what offence under what section of the law etc..) which attracts a 6 to 9 year prison sentence. Now I have been briefed enough to know that this is just him stating the fact about what is possible and that we are here to present and have approved our 'plea' under the allowed plea-bargaining process. But it throws me for a moment..... I even have this thought that maybe its all been a trick and really I am going to prison after all.



The we go through (again and again):


• my rights under the law (and for the love of god, I do have many thoughts about this being well and good, but what about the right after all to carry a small amount of medicine for personal use without all this drama);
• whether I want to report any pressure having been applied to me, or police brutality, or any other mistreatment by anyone (and again my thoughts go to the heart of the matter... having my travel completely disrupted and delayed, and my travel budget eroded by this ridiculously heavy fine I have paid);
• and the prohibitions I now have placed on me for 5 years.



Specifically, these prohibitions are:


• I cannot drive a car in Georgia
• I cannot work as a lawyer in Georgia (well thank the gods for that)
• I cannot work in the education system in Georgia
• I cannot run a pharmaceutical business in Georgia
• I cannot participate in the electoral process in Georgia
• I cannot deal in arms in Georgia.



Then I have to stop myself laughing (it would be improper) when great detail is entered into about the fate of my two little strips of medicines. They are to be taken out and shot. Well not quite... but they will be formally transported (I have visions of an armoured vehicle with an entourage of police bikes) to the government laboratory agency and … formally destroyed (no doubt with accompanying paperwork which will be copied and sent to all involved).

I am then asked a series of questions about whether I agree with all things... many things... what happened, my treatment (again), whether I want to change the judge or my lawyer etc... and finally whether I am guilty of illegally bring narcotics into Georgia.

I say “yes”, and “yes” I am guilty under the meaning of the stated article or law. And of course I feel like saying more but I bite my tongue.

What is also very funny is that this is only Nino's second time translating in court as an official translator. She is nervous and not that up on the English words for Georgian legalese. She uses her notes which were prepared under my tutorledge while we were waiting around yesterday for the prosecutor. I smile as she gives me back my own words. And I get a smile from all (the stern judge included) when I start to use the Georgian words for 'yes' and 'no' in my responses to closed questions.

So about 35 minutes into it, we are at this point of “are you guitly”.

Then there is a recess. The judget leaves (“all rise”) for about 5 minutes to 'consider' the facts so that he can make his 'verdict' and 'determination' (remembering here that I have already paid the dam fine yesterday). He re-enters the room and pronounces me “guilty” (well I am glad that's now very clear). He adds that I must “pay a fine of 2,000 lira” (again, relief that we got it right yesterday and I don't have to spend more time at the bank).

Again he goes through the prohibitions about all the things I cannot do in Georgia for the next 5 years. And again he tells me how the 18 tablets are going to be 'sent down' for destruction. Maybe I am meant to be hurting at this point from such harshness.

He also lays out what paperwork needs to now go to various people relaying all this: the public prosecutor, my lawyer, the police, the government department, and me.

So now it's 11.30 am and he tells me that within an hour I will get a copy of the paperwork which will allow me to leave Georgia. I am gobsmacked to think I need to wait yet another hour.

Thankfully it is ready in 40 minutes and I leave to get my bags and run to the border. I get hawked by a taxi guy (an Armenian named Georgio) and after first dismissing him (I am going to take the local bus but it means only getting half way anyway and then working out how to get the other 10 km of the 20 km trip) I decide to treat myself for the 20 lari it will cost to get all the way to the border post.

On the way I nearly scream XX when police block us just outside Akhaltsikhe and tell us we cannot proceed. There are half a dozen cars also waiting, so it's not some crazy last play against me alone. We wait 20 minutes until the road is apparently cleared from some mishap up ahead, and off we go.



Finale; Scene 3:

Up and Out of Georgia

1 pm That same day... at the border:I walk my way to the border control window. I recognise the policeman (he is overweight and so gains my label as 'the fat man' for purposes of his role in this farce) as one who was on duty three and half weeks ago when all this started. He recognises me.... takes my papers.... and starts reading all the detail. … which annoys me no end. He only needs to see the cover sheet saying I can go, surely. But everyone wants a role in this farce. He rings people several times in between looking at my papers and looking at his computer record on his screen with my mugshot. Finally his boss arrives who also recognises me from June 29^th, and after several minutes tells the underlng to just “let the poor guy go, he's been through enough already” (I cannot understand the Georgian but it's obvious to me he is saying something of this sort). I raise my hands to the heavens in thanks (it's taken another 20 minutes to do all this) and walk to Turkey

I get to the Turkish border check after passport control. The customs guy asks me “Do you have any alcohol?” I panic..... I am carrying a small ¼ litre bottle of Vodka from Georgia. He tells me it's OK.... not enough to be a problem. I sigh relief. It's a mad mad mad world



Free at last …. in Turkey. I hitch a ride to Posof.

Later that day: I am in a truck on the way to Erzurum not far from the Georgian border. We pass another truck on its way to Georgia. Suddenly it all makes more sense. Georgia is importing absurdity …. (see last picture)

THE END (bar the prologue....)

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Photos

At the bank - my money handed over
An hour of 'service' for 1 lari

Headache relief but no codeine
What's in a name? $1,200 and a criminal record apparently

The bill, the receipt, and the release order
Just three pages of hundreds of pages paperwork

The new Criminal with Nino the translator
No time to celebrate with vodka.. Turkey beckons

Road block on way to border
Just in case I was getting complacent

The Fat Man before he sang
Reading the detail at the border post

In Turkey at last
"All roads lead to where I stand" (Don McLean)

Suddenly it all became clear
The importation of "KAFKA" to Georgia. Must be something they add to the water supply (at least for those working for the Government)

Comments

[taracloud]

The absurdity
It's true--your fine and the whole absurdity was outrageous. However, I'm with you rather than the American--I would rather spend 3.5 weeks and pay $844 with a free lawyer than pay a fine of 2,110 euro plus pay for a private lawyer just to leave quickly. My money is limited and my time is worthless; besides, it seems you had some interesting experiences in the countryside. So sorry you won't be able to practice law in the bureaucratic nightmare of Georgia, but glad you made it back to Turkey.

[Home and Away]

So it's done...
with no lesson to be learned because absurdity can strike randomly, and this time hit you. That's what makes traveling to former Soviet republics interesting as you never know what slimy bureaucracy remains.

[D MJ Binkley]

Clarity
Wisdom comes in all forms.

[Joan]

stories the staff of life
.... more stories to tell family, friends and grandchildren someday ... it's a good one