When we (Martha, our host parents Nato, Gia, and myself) were seated to a meal of soup, butter and cheese fried pasta, tomatoes and cucumber salad, cheese and bread, Gia generously asked (but there could only be one answer…) if we would like a little (tsota) wine with lunch. How could we refuse?
After a couple preliminary toasts, I decided to introduce our Peace Corps Language Textbook, and, specifically, the section where we have Safety and Security phrases. (i.e. Please don’t give me any more shots of cha-cha, or I may indeed die, or Your generosity is wasted on me, I am sickly and cannot taste your wine. Etc. etc.) I wanted to show Gia these phrases in the text to A) share a joke at the US’s expense, and B) show him how manly and rebellious the 155lb. red-head could be.
On the very next page of the text, however, was a complete and translated list of the traditional Georgian toasts, and their official progression. (e.g. “Toast for Peace” precedes ‘Toast for the Better Halves.”) This was cause for great and comical debate between Nato and Gia as one tried to convince the other one that, toast list aside, Martha and I really were not allowed to drink. No! No! Was the reply; why would they have a whole cheat sheet about Georgian Supra toasts if they couldn’t drink??!!
In any case; what followed, interspersed between a pathetic English/Georgia discussion about the local 7th century church’s frescoes as a symbol of Georgian historical territorial linkage, was a truly generous, hospitable and heart-felt explanation of the Supra Toasts by Gia. Firstly; we are -for the next two years- his children (shvilli). Second, though there are a set number of formal toasts, and a logical progression, there is NO going back up the list to visit a previously toasted element, or starting back over at the beginning. If you had to (and most Georgians do many times over) cram in more than the 9 baseline toasts (which we covered at lunch) you had to be creative, and toast each wife separately, or toast to grandmothers (bebias), THEN toast to grandfathers (babuas) etc. Also; a good pointer for those who like the vino; never ever ever take a shower less than 6 hours after imbibing. Wine and Showers are “Ara Megobrebi” (not friends). This means that Martha and I are sitting in our room on a Sunday afternoon, in desperate and well advised need of a shower down at the local bathhouse (great deal: only 2 lari!), but waiting until the wine has been processed, so some awful malady doesn’t come and rob us of our abilities to create future shvili of our own.
The crux of the toasting, however, is the toast to the dead. This is where you compare stories about bebias da babuas and other stories of war and dismemberment. This is also the time where you “pour one out for your homies” by spilling some of the wine you are drinking on some puri (bread) in remembrance! You are, however, after some time, allowed to eat the wine-sogged puri you have honored.
All things considered, a fantastic (and average) lunch in Georgia. Language training is progressing slowly, and Martha is convinced that if I don’t work on my verb conjugations (Me Minda, Shen Ginda, etc.) I may get sent to a remedial Georgian class. We also learned that a medieval ruin we’ve seen on the roadway (pictured above) is actually our host families tower: The Shatakasvili’s fortress.
Nachwarmdis,
Julien
After a couple preliminary toasts, I decided to introduce our Peace Corps Language Textbook, and, specifically, the section where we have Safety and Security phrases. (i.e. Please don’t give me any more shots of cha-cha, or I may indeed die, or Your generosity is wasted on me, I am sickly and cannot taste your wine. Etc. etc.) I wanted to show Gia these phrases in the text to A) share a joke at the US’s expense, and B) show him how manly and rebellious the 155lb. red-head could be.
On the very next page of the text, however, was a complete and translated list of the traditional Georgian toasts, and their official progression. (e.g. “Toast for Peace” precedes ‘Toast for the Better Halves.”) This was cause for great and comical debate between Nato and Gia as one tried to convince the other one that, toast list aside, Martha and I really were not allowed to drink. No! No! Was the reply; why would they have a whole cheat sheet about Georgian Supra toasts if they couldn’t drink??!!
In any case; what followed, interspersed between a pathetic English/Georgia discussion about the local 7th century church’s frescoes as a symbol of Georgian historical territorial linkage, was a truly generous, hospitable and heart-felt explanation of the Supra Toasts by Gia. Firstly; we are -for the next two years- his children (shvilli). Second, though there are a set number of formal toasts, and a logical progression, there is NO going back up the list to visit a previously toasted element, or starting back over at the beginning. If you had to (and most Georgians do many times over) cram in more than the 9 baseline toasts (which we covered at lunch) you had to be creative, and toast each wife separately, or toast to grandmothers (bebias), THEN toast to grandfathers (babuas) etc. Also; a good pointer for those who like the vino; never ever ever take a shower less than 6 hours after imbibing. Wine and Showers are “Ara Megobrebi” (not friends). This means that Martha and I are sitting in our room on a Sunday afternoon, in desperate and well advised need of a shower down at the local bathhouse (great deal: only 2 lari!), but waiting until the wine has been processed, so some awful malady doesn’t come and rob us of our abilities to create future shvili of our own.The crux of the toasting, however, is the toast to the dead. This is where you compare stories about bebias da babuas and other stories of war and dismemberment. This is also the time where you “pour one out for your homies” by spilling some of the wine you are drinking on some puri (bread) in remembrance! You are, however, after some time, allowed to eat the wine-sogged puri you have honored.
All things considered, a fantastic (and average) lunch in Georgia. Language training is progressing slowly, and Martha is convinced that if I don’t work on my verb conjugations (Me Minda, Shen Ginda, etc.) I may get sent to a remedial Georgian class. We also learned that a medieval ruin we’ve seen on the roadway (pictured above) is actually our host families tower: The Shatakasvili’s fortress.
Nachwarmdis,
Julien
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