Day six
Bruce and I spent Thursday night at a small inn in the ancient mountain
village of Stepantsminda. I had unavoidably formed inaccurate mental
pictures of this town where Igor had fled home to Georgia from Russia in 1994,
where he had been filled with hope for his young family, and where his final, greatest moment of devastation began that resulted in his prison sentence. To walk the streets and know the area Igor’s family lived and loved contributed an enhanced richness to Igor’s biography and the whole story into which Bruce and I had been drawn.
On Friday morning, we returned to Liana’s pink cottage where we ate breakfast on her lawn with the family before heading out for the day.
.
Our morning drive took us to the highway that enters Russia to the north. We were aware that our journey was restricted from leaving Georgia. I thought back to 2002, when our drivers drove us into the mountains of Russia and we were told that Georgia lay just beyond those impressive Caucuses Mountains. But we knew so little then about the importance that Georgia would play in our story.
We continued to an area where several ancient stone carvings dotted the green hillside. Lia was excited because of all the times they had been on this route, they rarely saw an artist actually carving the stones into the likeness of Jesus. We stopped and watched him carve and those who shared the native tongue conversed.
When we all piled back into the van, I mentioned that it was a treat to see the carver chiseling. Our translator said there was also a wood carver in town, and would we like to stop in his shop?
Now, we had a vacation home in West Virginia where most wood carvings I had seen were ripped by chain saws, so truthfully, I didn’t know if I wanted to stop by a wood shop in a remote village in Georgia if we were on a tight schedule, but all the Georgians in the van cheered the idea.
On our way to the woodcarver’s shop, we passed many historical sites and stopped briefly to explore. We stopped to climb this ancient fortress. These solid rock foundations fascinated me. No wonder they’ve stood for centuries.
We found the wood carver’s workshop open, with all workers busy inside. What a surprise and a rare treat to walk into the shop of a world-class artist whose work is in demand all over the world. And the gracious artist and his apprentices stopped their work to give us the full tour. We were amazed again and again by the talent and patience illustrated by the work of these artists.
Next we traveled to the stunning Hotel Kazbegi, where day visitors are allowed to go through the massive hotel and on to the expansive deck. Hopeful visitors often wait hours for clouds to clear for a view of Mount Kazbek, elevation 16,512′. The altitude of Stepantsminda is 5,709′. Gergeti Trinity Church, 7120′. Our destination the day before stands in the left foreground with Mount Kazbek, seven miles away, as the impressive backdrop.
On our way back through the hotel, I slowed down to study a huge wall-size map. I couldn’t help noticing how close we had been in April, 2002, when we traveled to Vladikavkaz to pick up our new son. Across those rugged mountains due south, only 28 miles, one hour and 9 minutes travel time, Roma’s Georgian family was unaware of his soon departure for a new life in America.
In 2002, seventeen-year-old Liana lived in Mozdok. I wondered how she traveled 62 miles, two hours to visit her little brother in the Vladikavkaz orphanage. The thought of that last long trip only to find him gone forever still brings tears to my eyes.
Before we packed up and headed back to Tbilisi, we went on a short drive and a walk to the scenery that was literally in Liana’s back yard.
| Liana and her family were going to Tbilisi, so we did not have to say our good-byes in Kazbegi. |
Continue with Chapter 47
Consider it all JOY 