Something I love about Georgia today: Davit Gareja. I should really be writing a longer post about how incredible it was, but all I’ve got is this — the words that came to my mind when I was up on the top of a mountain, looking out over both Georgia and Azerbaijan (because it sits right on the border — may have been in Azerbaijan today, and I didn’t even need a $131 visa!)
I can see cities, fires burning, cows in a herd, buildings built for prayer, signs of human life, but looking out, just me and the mountains, the grass, the painted, striped rock, the sun making speckled shadows through the clouds, the wind cooling my skin and making my sleeves flutter, I could be the only person in the world right now. Each sound that I make, a movement of my foot, the scratch of pen on paper, my hand on my neck, is pronounced, magnified in the stillness, competing only with the wind, the flies, some bird off in the distance. I wonder if there is any other place in the world where I could feel so wonderfully, beautifully alone.
Something I miss about America today: a couple things today, because we discussed them all on the marshutka ride home — bagels and lox, all-you-can-eat sushi, Honey Bunches of Oats, and, last but not least, Kraft mac and cheese.
Expat Bound 