We have a Jew here! We have a Jew! Come!

I pinch myself in a sort of reality-check, to make sure that the blending nature surrounding me is not a mere illusion. I’m on a four day solo road trip to Georgia’s Racha region, a highland area hugged by the Greater Caucasus mountains. I’m here to experience the autumn colours of my favourite month October. The sun is strong but low, lighting up the hues of orange, yellow and red with a golden glow that is almost blinding. I witness leaves fluttering from their branches to their final rest. The sheer beauty is almost hallucinogenic, and I have my camera to capture what I can.

I drive through villages and take photos of abandoned houses of which there are plenty due to urban migration. I visit the market where farmers show off their labour. I visit some churches and graveyards, all surrounded by the golden nature. I visit a family winery where they make the famous semi-sweet red Khvanchkara and abandon myself to the mouth orgasms (I taste prune, plum, chocolate, blackberry jam in magnificent combined balance). I ended up buying several bottles to bring back home – perfect for Christmas dinner.

I’d heard about the synagogue in Oni, built in 1895, which survived the destruction of the Soviet Chekists because local residents, both Orthodox and Jewish, surrounded it with a human shield and mothers locked themselves inside with their children. The KGB ended up leaving the synagogue alone and it still stands to this day. This amazing story of civil courage (or disobedience, depending on who tells the story) made me want to visit it for myself.

I arrived in Oni and found the synagogue looking magnificent, but locked up. I asked the only lady I saw, resting on a nearby bench, about the synagogue and we engaged in a cute but simple conversation in Russian (neither of us were very proficient). After establishing where I came from, what I was doing in Georgia, and why I was interested in the synagogue I told her that my Grandfather was Jewish. She got very excited, and started shouting, “We have a Jew here!” (у нас здесь еврей). If this would have been shouted in another era I would most likely be running for cover or trying to bribe her to silence. But here I was, feeling quite proud to have myself announced to the neighbours and several friendly and curious people showing up to talk to me.

An old man appeared, wearing glasses that still had the subscription label (+2.50) stuck to the centre of the glass (not sure if it meant he was blind and used the glasses for vanity purposes or if he preferred having his sight obstructed). He introduced himself as Abram and told me about the history of what had once been one of Georgia’s largest Jewish communities with over 3000 members from the Oni region. Now there are only three Jews left as most have immigrated to Israel. Talk about an exodus! Something about this man felt so lonely, yet so strong. He seemed happy as we engaged in chatting about our Jewish heritage, and he responded with several “молодец” (well done) when I told him about my job here, monitoring the conflict and administrative border lines.

I found a cozy place to stay in Racha, the only issue being the unwanted company. Even though I made it clear I intended to be a single guest, my little cabin was invaded by stink bugs, crawling on the walls and ceiling and even landing in my bed on several occasions. They remind me a bit of cockroaches, but their crawl is a lot slower (sort of like a stoned cockroach?) and as far as I know they’re not as unhygienic (but who cares, they’re disgusting!). They're silent little buggers until they flap their wings, sounding like a helicopter crash landing (in addition to being high they're also drunk). They’re called stick bugs because of a horrible odour they release when they feel threatened. So the only way to deal with them is to gently pick them up and throw them out the window. Hmmm, a lovely little hobby that kept me busy every evening and morning.

Racha, chemi sikvaruli (Racha, my love)! I must see the movie. And now I understand why it’s a worthy title. Racha is beautiful! The nature, the people, and culture have touched my heart. And I can't wait to share my amazing photography that hopefully conveys the beauty.