The women I work with at the Georgian school chirp away in the interesting-sounding language that is Georgian. The unusual bold combinations of sounds evoke in me the characteristics of delight, a child complaining about not getting what they want and highly social chitchat. It sounds, to me, sweet at times, ugly at others and has a bouncing rhythm with a very distinct pattern of intonation.
Most Georgians I met seemed to be the loveliest, happiest and helpful people I’d ever met. Apart from when a fight or disagreement happens when all hell breaks look. There is a lot of arm waving and loud, childish-sounding, angry, almost poetic shouting and sometimes wailing. testosterone-fuelled affair, driven by pride and tradition. The old women intervene and try to get the young people to stop.
I was told once about the tradition in Georgia, especially in some of the more remote villages that if a man likes a woman he can abduct her. It doesn’t always happen but sometimes the women may not have even met the man, before she is bundled into a tinted-window Merc or Beamer. The she is taken to exile (often the house of his grandparents in the village) until the girl decides whether or not she wants to marry the boy. I am sure it’s not quite as simple as that. I spoke to girls, Tamta and Nino in my English lesson about this. They didn’t seem too worried as it happens more in the villages. A pretty concerning thing to hear.