On the Ruins of Dmanisi

What I like, standing among the ruins of ancient cities, are the echoes of lives lived long ago. They seep out of the stones like watery vapors, wrapping themselves around you, feeding your imagination. You walk where the dead have walked, you step where the dead have stepped. And indeed, you are always doing this, but no place is it so obvious than at a place of ruins. These were once the centers of human activities and were reclaimed by time and nature. Buildings crumbled, trees grew from within old barracks and storehouses and bedrooms. What happened here? Why did other cities survive and this one die? Why did other civilizations collapse and this one or that one keep on going? There are no places except those where history is so evident do these questions come in full form and stare at you. And it makes you wonder, from the chills of those hallowed ghosts, what will happen of you? What will happen of your people? Will America still stand in 100 or 1000 years? What will the history books speak of us?

Me in front of random structure

Looking down from main fortress

These pictures show the remains of a city near the modern day town of Dmanisi in Georgia, now simply called the Dmanisi Archeological Site (in Georgian and in Russian). Dmanisi grew to notable size due to it's being an intersection of trade routes, paths from the Great Silk Road, trade between Georgia, Armenia and the empires to the South. As time passed, the strategic nature of the area served as a good fortification for the traders and the town grew. Under the Georgian king David the Builder, in the 10^th century, it flourished, and good to his name, he built a castle there to protect the surrounding lands from Persians, Turks, Arabs and Armenians, as well as any other enemies Georgia could muster up. Eventually, in the 14^th century, Georgia became a battleground for two great khan states, the Golden Horde, led by Hordak, to the North and Tamerlane's Timurid Empire (named, uh, after Tamerlane) to the East. As the Golden Horde had hit Tamerlane's empire a few times, coming through Georgia, Tamerlane decided to raze everything in Georgia so that no one could support or host an army from the Golden Horde. Tamerlane personally led his troops as they massacred thousands of Georgians. Dmanisi was one such town that no longer saw daylight after the coming of Tamerlane.

View down from main fortress, the church dates to the 12th century

Main fortress behind me

While we walked along the mounds of the old city, Gela, my former host, was randomly there. "Shawnee!" he called over. We met up and walked down to everyone's cars. "I have supra to attend to. You coming?"

The Georgians then started debating something. With their tone of voice and the speed of their talk, it was like watching a hardcore Republican and Democrat debate healthcare (which is to say, they were shouting a lot and neither were making any sense to me). Then Gela turned back to me and said in Russian, "Okay, first we are going to creek and having drink." Georgians, it seems to me, just like to shout. It doesn't really mean they're having an argument or anything, they're just generally a loud and serious-looking people. Hell, even one is going on about how beautiful their wife is, they're generally yelling at her while they do this. I don’t think Georgians actually notice this tendency of theirs. Or, I'm just assuming this, and really they are being angry with each other all the time. Who knows? I just roll with it.

I would say Georgians are deaf and that's why they yell all the time, but clearly this is not true. My Babushka, from downstairs, could say, in a whisper, "Do you want to eat?" to my host mom, who's upstairs. "Now or later? We're having bean soup. Okay, that's fine. Just let me know." Perhaps they're deaf and telepathic? That could be an option.

Looking up from the creek

So anyways, we went down to a small stream nearby, where you just make out some of the stone fortifications of the castle high above a cliff that hung over us. At the base of the stream, we spread out a blanket and started drinking some pear vodka. Which is, to date, the nastiest stuff I've ever tasted. Here writes no fan of pear vodka, and as well, one who would warn you never to have it. But we had a whole bottle of it that needed to be drunk, and now I was teamed with Gela and this old guy that was with Gela. I silently thanked God that we had run into them, since now that bottle was shared four ways (there were two other guys and a girl with me, the driver wasn't drinking, neither was the girl). While we drank, I sat there thinking, "If Gela hadn't come, it would have been me and this guy drinking this alone!" Now think guys, I'm not one to hate drinking. In fact, I generally consider it as one of my favorite sports. But this was pear vodka! Until you've drank it, you've tasted no horrible drink.

Unless, of course, you've had fermented goat's milk. Now that is some nasty stuff. But that's neither here nor there. God willing.