This is the kind of blog I love. All the magic that I find in Georgia, and what sets Georgia apart from elsewhere. Thanks for writing such a lovely piece.
Standing with my Georgian brother, Nika, in the middle of a neighborhood bebo’s strawberry field, picking strawberries barefoot in the mud, as a toothless woman empties a handful of the red fruit into my palms, surrounded by the Caucus Mountains and peach orchards while the clouds allow a few raindrops to escape, and I know I’m experiencing yet another one of those moments. It’s a moment when I look around and all I can say is “Wow.”
I can’t speak for the rest of Georgia, but in Kakheti, strawberry season has begun. I pass buckets of strawberries for sale on my way to school; the refrigerator is full of various forms of the fruit. The backgammon table has been replaced by marshutkas and buckets of fresh strawberries, and tired women walk past my house every night on their way home from the fields.
For our most recent holiday – Victory…
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