02 – 06.09.2011

We continue to Mestia and arrive late in the night. In the mountain villages of Svaneti each family had an independent defensive tower in the middle ages, which it inhabited. These towers formed the village and most of them have survived until today. They now rise out of a massive construction site, which Mestia has become. The Georgian government is investing millions into the tourism industry. We climb to the Koruldi lakes on Mt. Ushba, away from the dust and noise. And retreat to the tree line for the night. The views are astounding, the air is fantastic, the flora highly diverse.

Dejan speaks of his experiences with magic mushrooms and LSD: “Most people remain stuck in this “Wow-phase”. Seldom do people start to take the experience into their own hands and start to form it themselves, to explore and to consciously go deeper. The experiences are a tool for insight and progress.”

Through the contact with the church of Santo Daime in Switzerland Dejan eventually tried Ayawhuasca. In line with the numerous reports I have come across earlier, Dejan spoke of his experiences as utterly groundbreaking.

“If you have lived through a full Ayawhuasca experience, you are ready for everything and anything”

This brew made of several South American tropical plants enables the individual to experience that, which will eventually come to all in the process of  natural evolution. It enables one to view behind the veil of nature and it opens up the experience of Universal Oneness. In contrast to natural attainment this induced state fades of course. It was traditionally used by Shamans during rituals and a strongly related mixture is to be found among the Shamanic traditions of central Africa. Most inspiringly Dejan has now left the substances of his own conviction, seeking the deeper sense of Life in the natural experience of daily life. Reading “My Big Toe” by Thomas Campbell was key to this transformation.

Dejan has started playing the Bansuri at the beginning of May. His teacher was a student of Hariprasad Chaurasia. He has quit his job as an IT technician and is now going to India to learn with a Master his teacher told him of. Dejan practices daily and the flow of his melodies give the impression that he is already a well-advanced student. You can explore his own travel-blog here: http://eonstravelblog.wordpress.com/

Intermittent rain, the cold and the lack of appropriate gear lead us to return to lower Svaneti. We spend a night on the pastures above Pari, a truly rural Caucasian village. The contact with the people there is surprisingly natural. There is not the slightest feeling of being a foreigner, a tourist. People here accept you immediately simply as a human and in the short contacts I feel a friendly lack of boundaries, despite the fact that these people have little to do with the craze of the ‘sophisticated,’ high-speed, high-tech society of the West.

We make our way to Zugdidi and plan to continue to Tblisi. We have already hitchhiked out of the city when I remember that I left Dejans phone in the internet café we visited shortly. We get out of the car to hitchhike back again. A man, his cousin and sister take us back towards Zugdidi. Saveri is drunk and he emphatically invites us to his place for the night. We communicate in a mix of broken English, Italian, Polish and Russian and understand that today the man has become a father. His wife is in the hospital and he has gotten the message earlier in the day that his son was born. Tomorrow he is going to the hospital, but today in the evening he is celebrating with family and friends.

We enter an old house in the outskirts of Zugdidi. The family was living in it for over 100 years. The water comes from a hanging bucket with a whole at the bottom that is plugged with a loose nail from the top. The toilet is basically a sheltered whole in the backyard. Many vegetables are grown in the garden. We get a feel for Georgian hospitality; simple, tasty food is eaten, house-made wine is drunk in copious amounts and we are the center of interest among the family members. The groups mood sways many times from extreme enthusiasm to deep and true melanchoy in a matter of seconds, as toasts are raised several times first to God, Georgia or Peace and then to Saveri’s brother who has died in an accident. Saveri’s message of the evening is clear: he emphasizes repeatedly, visibly enjoying the wine, that we are all brothers: no matter from which country, no matter of which religion, we are all human and are all equal.

Late at night Dejan and I leave and ask at a gas station where we could set up our tents. Goga invites us to his garden, a 5 minute walk from the gas station. We share our stories and he invites us to his house for breakfast next morning. We continue over Kutaisi to Tblisi and stay at the fresh and peaceful “Art Hostel”.