Luckily, my apartment is not equipped with a device that would show me my weight. I am sure I would not be satisfied with what it would tell me. Georgian food is the problem. It’s just far too good. I keep telling myself that I need to restrain myself, and that I should maybe stop diving into local delicacies at hours where other people are already fast asleep. No chance.
One week in Tbilisi. One intense week. Not just because of the food, of course. That’s not the reason for my trip, after all. I came here to work with my friends at Leavingstone, an incredibly creative digital agency in the heart of Tbilisi. And we’re working. A lot. And it’s great.
Arrival: The warmest welcome I ever received on my first day of work.
I live on a small street, just a five minute walk away from the agency. Fifth floor, no elevator. But I am far from complaining. I’d be even more concerned about the consequences of my love for Georgian food if I didn’t have those stairs to climb every day.
When I asked the guys when I should show up at the agency in the morning, I thought that they were joking when they said: “At eleven.” I was like yeah sure, but really, when do you usually start in the morning? The answer was the same. Eleven.
Which is funny, because I normally start my workday at nine. Adding the two hours of time difference to Zurich, I am at my desk at exactly the same time. Eleven. Of course, starting that late means that I also finish the day late. 10pm, at average. And then it’s Khinkali, Khajapuri and other amazing dishes, along with a beer or two. And five floors to climb.
It’s simply not possible to keep your weight in Tbilisi. The food is irresistible.
Bedtime: Around one or two. Minus the two hours mentioned earlier, I am also going to bed at the usual time. Not that this time difference would cause a huge jet lag – but this way I am bound to not even have one at all.
I am getting used to air conditioning again. The weather forecast is basically the same every day. Sunny, 30° Celsius and above. Next week up to 35. But not much humidity, so it’s still on the pleasant side, more or less.
What’s pleasant for us is bad for the forests: they are burning. Partly near the Russian border, and since Russia is occupying part of this country, the conclusions are obvious, especially when large gasoline canisters are found near the fires. Not good.
Also not good: There is no letter F in the Georgian alphabet. I am at a loss of words. At least the ones with an F. Uck! And you know how much I like the F at the start of my first name. All others have a V. My F is special. And it doesn’t exist here. In Tbilisi, I am Polker. But only in written form. No one has a problem pronouncing an F, even if it doesn’t exist :D.
Unique language, universal message: “I can’t live without you.”
Leavingstone is an interesting agency. To say the least. Mostly known for their experiential work like the flying hammock or the 100 percent real virtual reality stunt for Old Irish beer, they are far from being a stunt specialist. And far from being small as well. 120 people do digital, advertising, mobile, web development, and all kinds of tech stuff all the way to artificial intelligence.
And all of them are enthusiastic, curious, hardworking and genuinely nice people. I couldn’t have hoped for a better way to restart wrage/antwort. As much as I really need my weekend now – the first five days were already a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I still have a whole month of Georgia ahead of me.