It is interesting how alcohol has, become such an important consideration, whether by its presence or conspicuous absence in local culture. During the first part of our trip (which we can refer to as BC (before Charlie)), we found no country where alcohol was as much ingrained into culture as Georgia.
In Batumi, we experienced our first taste of this. We were staying in a little hostel run by Georgians Irakli and Sasha. We had been told about the Georgian way of formalized drinking called A “Supra” or "Supre". This term originally just meant a feast, but has come to also mean the method of drinking. Irakli and Sasha were kind enough to put on one for us in the hostel’s front room. Misha (our Polish friend from the hostel in Tbilisi) also regaled us with his experiences of Supre culture in the mountainous region of Svaneti in the north of Georgia. Subsequently, this is my understanding (incomplete and flawed as it is) of the nature of a Supre and the culture surrounding it.
Supras are used in all situations, weddings, funerals, birthdays, promotions and anything else worth celebrating or commiserating (a happy Supra is a "Kepi" and a sombre one a "Kelekhi"). Subsequently Supras happen almost every night without fail, and if you know the host of the Supra in any way, you will be invited, you can normally be sucked into a Supra even if you know no-one, just by virtue of proximity. Such is the intensity of this regime that Misha, after living in a village in Svaneti for a few months, was almost afraid of going outside, in case he was invited to a Supra. When we asked why he didn’t just refuse, he explained that it is rude to refuse, especially when the host says something like “what, you won’t drink with me? My brother just died!” (which happens more often than you would think, because to a Georgian, their friends, cousins and acquaintances are all “brothers”).
A Supra is traditionally done at a meal but at least with some snacks to attempt to soak up some alcohol, we had some smoked cheese and sausages, and some bread. At a Supra, either everyone drinks wine (produced locally) or Cha-Cha (the local fire water, produced from the left over solids in wine making). Toasting with beer is considered to only be done with your enemies.
A Supre consists of a series of toasts. The ‘Tamada’ (or Toast master) runs the Supre, and if you don’t agree with the Tamada, you can leave. We were lucky enough to have Irakli as our Tamada, as he is apparently considered to be one of the best in Batumi, (even though he is only in his 20s). It is the Tamada’s responsibility to start the toasts, he needs to be eloquent and intelligent, and must also be able to stay sober. He will stand, say his bit, everyone will touch glasses and then he will drink, then it is open for another person to make a comment that follows on from the toast, the remaining people touch glasses and that person drinks, this continues until everyone has said something and drunk, (although you can just say “I agree”, if you say this too many times, the Tamada will pick on you). There is also a ceremonial role in which a member of the Supra is apponted to refill all the glasses. I was given this roll by Irakli, and although he said that it was second in prestige to the Tamada, I have a feeling that it is the roll that you are supposed to give to an over exuberant adolescent.
There are a few toasts that must be given, the first being to "peace and friends" (which probably sounds less hippie in Georgian) the second to "Our mothers and fathers" (as apparently, the most important person in any Georgian man's life should be his mother). The Third toast is to the dearly departed, a common opening line to this being; "people are never dead as long as those live who remember them". After this toast, everyone must be silent until the 4th toast, which is to "Our God" (this is from the fact that Georgians, as Christians, have always faced adversity from their Muslim neighbours). From there on, the Tamada generally freestyles his toasts, and people can even ask him if they may make a toast themselves. However, to make a toast you must never just say, for instance, "I like beautiful girls", you must phrase it: "To all the beautiful girls in the world". There can be more than 20 toasts, and the Cha-Cha we were drinking was 65% alcohol, so we were fairly inebriated by the end of the night. Despite the vast amounts of alcohol consumed at a Supre, it is considered bad form for a Georgian man to appear drunk, and worse for a women (who are normally required to only sip their drink at each toast) to even appear tipsy.
Irakli explained to us that so ingrained was this tradition to Georgian culture that good drinkers in a community would be comparable to good footballers in England. Despite this, out and out drinking competitions are rare, and are only really done by the younger, immature generations. And although Supras, for all the world may seem like an excuse for a piss up, he explained that they were actually primarily aimed at promoting conversation, that is the reason for the many toasts. It seems that, although the forced drinking may conjure images of the first week of university. It is not just a drinking game for old men, it is a tradition aimed at promoting interesting, and important conversation, and I personally love the concept.
It is undeniable that Georgian men love drinking, but they also have a big soft spot for wrestling. In Tbilisi I was to find out, first hand, that they like to combine these two past-times. While sitting in an unlicensed bar with Misha, a man walks in and sits down with his friends.However this was man was no ordinary man, he looked like he'd been brought up on a diet of wildebeest and steroids, he looked like he had been born and raised in a cage. In short, he was massive. We were later to find out thet he is only known by the name "Shark" and that he plays for the Georgian rugby team. Believing his size to be noteworthy, I mentioned it to Misha. Misha says, "So, you want to wrestle him?", "No" I reply. Misha explains how, in Georgia, it is considered a normal occurrence to challenge a man to a wrestle if you feel like it, and that it was a completely normal thing. In all honesty, I didn't believe him, but when he then got up talked to the guy and in less than 30 seconds negotiated a wrestling match.It was obvious that this was actually a reasonably normal occurrence. I found myself being herded outside, as Misha explained that he would be wrestling Shark, while I wrestled his friend, who was now doubt smaller, but still noticeably bigger than me, and as I found out later was trained in judo. We had to remove our shirts, as was the rules, and that was how I found myself in a shirtless wrestling match in a car park in Tbilisi.
I would have liked to say that we won, but in short, we got owned. It was ok though, afterwards, we went back inside and continued drinking with the Georgians, who turned out to be awesome guys. after a few more hours drinking and a late night kebab, I woke up in the morning wondering why my jaw hurt, I believe that the pictures explain more than words could.
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