Mestia, Feb. 21, 2011

I took all 3 of these on my way home from International Mother Language Day, which we celebrated in Svan at Domink's school, No 2, in grand style - most of it his own doing.
Top 2 - minimalist snow and fence.
Bottom - yes, this overhang of snow and ice is high enough, and heavy enough, to kill if you're standing under it when it falls.  One of many in Mestia.

My Weekly Letter from Svaneti, No. 1

Online here.  In print soon too!

Ormotsi, Lenjeri, mid-Feb. 2011

Ormotsi is the Georgian word for 40.  This feast, held all over this part of the world, is 40 days from the death of someone.  First there is the funeral feast (gasveneba), then this one, then another a year after death (ts'lis tavi).  Except here in Svaneti, between the funeral & 40-day feast, there must be more, more... a feast for every Saturday between those two.  no wonder the women weep and wail when someone dies - a crazy amount of work awaits the survivors, which may drive them - despite financial gifts from all guests - into debt for months or years.
This ormotsi was for our host lady's aunt, who had raised her and her siblings when their mother died young. I should have been outside with the men, but was asked by our hostess to stay indoors with my wife and the other women, to be joined by other men, who never came.  So I was an honourary woman for the occasion, and glad enough to escape the cold and araqi - Svan moonshine.
The tables are planks of wood on sawn wood legs, covered with a roll of paper bound with a long spiral of thread.  If you're a VIP you get a real metal fork, and maybe a knife; lucky, and you have a plastic fork; the most usual utensil is a piece of bread with which you pick up everything your fingers can't put straight into your mouth from your plate, the more fiddly salads or thick soups, etc.  The food will never run out, and neither will the drink, as there are countless toasts to be made, and a feast can last hours upon hours in certain situations and conditions.  Crockery is a set kept by each village for common use, plates stored in wooden boxes for every wedding or funeral.
The middle shot is the village of Lenjeri, where my wife teaches English, its school half an hour's walk from where we're staying in Mestia.   The school is so close to the Mestia sign that it almost merges with Mestia, and the location of this ormotsi is about twice as far from our house.

Mestia Views, Feb. 2011

3 more recent shots.
Top:  our hosts, father (l) and son (r) cutting wood, from the 2nd story window just outside our room.  I regularly chop wood for Lali's & my little stove as well.  It's nice and dry, so it burns like a rocket.
Middle:  roster for supper...
Bottom:  A watchtower near our house, and icicles.

Fires in the Snow 3: Lamproba, Mestia, 14/2/2011

A final 3 from Lamproba Mestia 2011, an event which I'll never forget.

Fires in the Snow 2: Lamproba, Mestia, 14/2/2011

More from Lamproba 2011 in Mestia.

Fires in the Snow 1: Lamproba, Mestia 14/2/2011

Here are the first few of my Lamproba photos from last night, the main church in Mestia, called St. George's.  Everyone brought bundles of sticks and lit fires on their family's communal graves, then drank toasts and feasted the dead.  Meanwhile, there was a normal Orthodox service going on in the church.  Apparently, the Church has decided to make peace with this Svan ritual, which predates Christianity, seeing nothing inherently wrong with it.  It was an amazing thing, in the -10 C temperatures, to see all these fires lighting up the cemetery.  My shots were all of 1 second or more exposure, with fill-in flash to freeze some of the action.  The middle shot is a TV crew recording the words of an elder as he says and does his thing.  Bottom, the scene from halfway up the church's tower.  It was all fascinating.

Mestia Views 3, late Jan. 2011

 Top, Vitia taking another load of cow manure to the fields by bull-powered sled, where it will lie until spring and then be spread.
Middle, another vertical panorama of a view I love, the river and towers, all garbage blissfully snow-covered.
Bottom, view of the barn and town from our upper windows, a several-minute exposure on a tripod during fairly heavy snowfall.  Where's the falling snow, then?! Magically vanished by the long exposure, its only remaining effects a slight changing of the light in the distance and an overall softening of things.

Twilight in Mestia, early Feb. 2011

 These 2 are from the roof of the lower of the 2 Chartolani watchtowers; the upper tower is the one at left in the top photo, giving an idea of just how safe - or not - I was.  The roof is shallow and wooden, so not at all slippery despite having half a foot or so of snow on it.  But there's nothing to stop you aside from friction should you slip towards the edge, and it's a long way down...
The 2-storey house at right in the top photo, with 2 sets of lower windows lit and 4 sets of dark windows above, is where Lali & I are staying (in an upper-floor room) with a super host family, our new friends in Mestia.
The lower shot is of most of the eastern side of Mestia as twilight fell, that magical time again.  I was shooting on a tripod, exposures of up to a minute or 2 in length, bare fingers getting numb as the evening deepened and the wind rose a bit on our high perch.  But nothing too serious, and the frames I came away with made the whole thing 100% worth it.  At extreme right, the white building is the new gamgeoba, or town hall, and left of that blazing away with light is the central sqiare and its park and hotel.  Mt. Tetnuldi with its pyramidal peak in the central background obligingly came clear of clouds during the shooting, a relative rarity at the moment.

Mestia Views 2, late Jan. 2011

 Top, from our host family's barn.
Middle, from an upstairs window.
Bottom, panorama from the newly refurbished Tetnuldi Hotel.

Mestia Views, late Jan. 2011

 

Top, the area where Lali & I live, just right of the towers, shot from my school..

Middle, a view of the town as you enter it from the west,
Bottom, towers through a frosty window in the house where we live.
What's not to love about this place?!  Landscape wise, at least.

Twilight in Mestia, late Jan. 2011

There is a window of time, only minutes long, when the twilight is descending... the snow is still visible and the watchtower lights are coming on one by one.  Blues and yellows contrasting.  Streak of a car's headlights caught in my tripod-mounted slow exposure of a minute or so. Star from a tower light shining nearly straight at my lens.  Church lit in its own colour, more green.  In short, a magical time.  Before this, the lights haven't illuminated the towers; soon afterwards, darkness descends and much of the blue detail is lost.  Right time, right place.