Getting My "Fix" in Tbilisi

On Facebook Marketplace, Friday, 8 pm:

Me: Hi, I would like to buy some of your product. How can I do it?

MS: [in Georgian] Hi, are you interested?

Me: [Ask MAIK for translation] Yes, I'm interested. Need one. Running out of previous supply.

MS: [switched to English] What happened to your previous supplier?

Me: Don't know, ran out of product? Not available here anymore. Where can I get yours?

MS: How much do you need?

Me: Just one.

MS: Delivery is not available for one. Wholesale only.

Me: I understand. I'll come for the product myself. Where can I pick it up?

MS: You know the price for one, right?

Me: Yes, if it is still the same as listed in your post.

MS: Yes, same, but it will be cheaper if you buy two or three.

Me: Need only one. Trying to cut back :).

MS: I see, cutting back [winking emoji].

Me: So where can I get it?

MS: I will bring it to Tbilisi tomorrow morning.

Me: Excellent! Where and when is the meeting point? Tbilisi is big.

No answer. Next day, Saturday, 10 am.

MS: Today at 16:00 I will be at Didubesi Gorgia.

Me: Great! That is the metro station, right? I’m new to Tbilisi, don’t know that part of the city yet.

MS: Metro is 200 meters away, Tbilisi Didube. Everyone knows that Gorgia is a shopping center in Didube. Ask anyone.

Me: I don't speak Georgian.

MS: Ask in Russian, someone will know.

Me: [How does he know I speak Russian?] Ok, how do I find you in the shopping center?

MS: Write to me, I will be at the entrance.

Me: Could you give me your WatsApp? This is my American phone that works with WiFi only. My Georgian phone has WhatsApp.

MS: [gives the number].

Didube metro station is on the other side of Tbilisi, which is a long narrow city running along the Mtkvari (Kura) River. I live on the southern end, Didube is up in the north, and my nearest metro station is a 30-minute walk away. So it's going to be a good walk and I will get my product in the end. Excited!

To be there at 4 pm, I leave my apartment at 1 pm. I don't need that much time but the church I wanted to go to is half-way to the Didube, which I found on Google Maps. It's the Metekhi church of the Nativity of the Mother of God and it is beautifully positioned right on the Mtkvari bank. I haven't been to that church yet. I passed it so many times before but never went inside, so I am excited.

I ride a bus downtown to the Europe Square and go to the church. Like many other ancient Orthodox churches in Georgia, it is quite small, there are no pews or sitting spaces, and photography is not allowed inside.

I put on a courtesy "dress code" scarf as women are not allowed to step into the Orthodox Churches with their heads uncovered and go inside. It is an active church, so people come in to pray to their favorite saints and be with God. I spend time admiring the icons and steal a picture of St.George's icon in gold-plated silver.

Then I go to the Church grounds and admire its garden. It's a beautiful warm and sunny day and a lot of people are spending time in the garden reading on the benches, talking, and even eating lunch. I saw an artist painting the river bank view. It was all so peaceful and beautiful. I snapped some pictures of berries that grow there too.

I went down to the river bank and took pictures of exterior mosaic icons that are standing in their own stone domes, facing the river.

The view of the city from this spot is breathtaking, and I snap a picture of Mother Georgia Statue as well. Click here if you want to learn more about the Metekhi Church that had been built in the 5th century, destroyed, repurposed and rebuilt multiple times.

It's only about 2 pm when I leave the church, so I take a walk through the Rike Park to the Dry Bridge, take a couple of pictures of Tbilisi from there and realize that I don't have enough time to go to the Flea Market near the Dry Bridge that I'd been planning to go to for a long time.

I walk back to the Avlabari Metro Station and ride to Didube. At 3:35, I am at the Didube station, which is one of only two or three stations above ground. I'll write a separate story about Tbilisi Metro.

I get out of the metro and get lost in the adjacent farmers' market. My Georgian phone is of no help as it seems not to be in sync with my real-time movement and shows me wrong directions all the time. I hear a lot of Russian in the market but determined to find the store on my own, I ask no one where Gorgia is.

Finally, after the third full circle around the metro station and adjacent streets, the GPS gods bless me with the correct directions. And of course I passed that store all three times, it was right there in front of my eyes. The problem was that I was looking for a supermarket and it turned out to be what is labeled as a "construction store."

I go inside the store, see the all-too-familiar blue and yellow colors and my head is starting to spin. Same set up, where you go through a show room first and then into the marketplace. People leaving with large bags of household items. How did I not know about this? Why are they not calling it IKEA? And then I catch the glimpse of the sign that says "IKEA products at Georgian prices" or something like that and realize that it is most probably unauthorized, smuggled version of IKEA. Have seen too much of this in the post-Soviet space, like turning Adidas into Abibas.

So I leave the store and pull my WhatsApp at 3:55 pm.

Me: I'm here at the main entrance. This is Lana, we connected on Facebook this morning.

MS: I will come out right now.

I am waiting at the entrance, pacing back and forth and trying to figure out how I will recognize the seller. Should I message him again? Nah, I'll probably see the product first, just like when I met with my previous seller at the Avlabari station last month. I go through the product too quickly. Need to cut on consumption indeed.

At 4:01, I hear a call on my phone. I try to answer it but switching between different apps takes time and I miss the call. I realize it was from the seller. Should I call him back? As I raise my eyes to someone touching my shoulder, I see a one-litter jar of bright amber "mountain" honey right in front of my face.

It comes with a young burly Georgian, an embodied stereotype of a mountain man, smiling at me. His Facebook avatar - MS - literally means "son of mountains." I pay him a little on top, 40 Georgian lari instead of 37.50 he asked, which is about 15 USD total. I am the happiest woman in the world today.

P.S. This story is inspired by a dear friend who said that my perpetual search for the best honey anywhere I go is akin to a drug addiction and my interactions with honey sellers are like cryptic convos and secret meetings with drug dealers.