What the gamarjoba

Through the fogged windows of our Marshrutka, Tbilisi looked a lot like Anchorage at night. Except for all the georgian letters and stuff.

I’m about hour 30 or so of no sleep, so this is gonna be quick and dirty. I have no idea what language I speak anymore. On the plane from Kiev to Tbilisi, I wanted to ask the Azeri guy in the corner behind me how to say “hi” in Azeri–he doesn’t speak english but he speaks russian, which the georgians also speak, but they don’t speak english either, but they do speak spanish–so I ask in spanish to the georgians who ask in russian to the azeri who answers in arabic to me, because that’s how they say hello in azeri, and also when I got to the hotel a few musicians were singing and playing O Solo Mio on the lobby piano.

Also, tea.

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