My Apartment in Abastumani

When I showed up in Abastumani no one was expecting me to be there yet because everyone thought that I was going to be in Yerevan. But I did not know this when I arrived. I was very disappointed and sad that when I walked into my childhood yard no one came out to meet me, especially my aunt, who helped my parents raise me. I will post pictures of my dad's and aunt's house later. First my father brought me to his house, which is right across the yard from my aunt's. It was absolutely empty with the exception of a bed that appeared to be so dirty that when my father told me I was to sleep in it I asked him if I can just sleep in yard on the ground. When I said this he told me there was an apartment that was set up for my arrival and that we were going there so that I can spend my stay in it with all the modern comforts. 

Before we went up to this apartment I sat down on a bench outside of the chicken coop in our yard and ate the Georgian bread and cheese he bought at the bazaar on the way there. Later on one of my relatives in the village told me that this bench was my favorite place to hang out when I was a kid, and it's funny that even though I didn't actually remember this, it was the first place where I sat down upon arrival. I myself asked my dad if we can sit down there and eat.

Then he took all my stuff and walked me to a 9 story building just three minutes away from his house where an old lady named babushka Lena gave him the key to the apartment and said she knew me when I was a baby and kissed me. It's the custom here to kiss on the right cheek and then on the neck. That's how everyone kisses me, but I think when they usually kiss each other it's just on the cheek, I think they kiss me on the neck because they all think of me as a baby still and are so happy that they found me. When I say they, I mean the whole village.

This is the living room:

The kitchen:

The bathroom:

In Russia, and I guess in other former Soviet countries, during the Soviet times, the water heaters were placed in very precarious positions. I remember in my childhood being terrified of them because they made noise above my head and were metal and I knew they used gas for heating water and I was always afraid that they would explode in my face. Maybe even a more immediate danger is that they might fall off their hinges on the wall and crush you while you bathe. They're quite terrifying.

The bedroom:

When I lay down in this bed the first time I was terrified because at that point I've been basically awake for 48 hours with the exception of a few one hour naps here and there. My brain was not able to cope with reality and everything seemed like a monstrosity: the flight, my father's behavior, my family's absence upon my arrival. I thought I made a huge mistake in coming to Abastumani and suddenly I had a panic attack, in my brain, and didn't see how I was going to survive the twenty days I was going to have to spend there. I wanted to die, without exaggeration.

I imagined that this was going to be twenty days of absolute torture from my father. I thought that when I finally do get back to the US I might already be completely insane and incapable of dealing with life. I thought I'll lose my job and my boyfriend will leave me because I will not be able to function at home either. Life suddenly became too painful to bare. I lay with my eyes wide open in shock and I didn't know how I was going to survive this trip.

I tried to call for my dad because I thought that maybe if he came and sat down with me and talked to me he could help me get a little more grounded into reality and end the insanity that I thought was setting into my brain. Ironic, since he's the cause of it. But he left the apartment and I was all alone, perhaps this was for the best. I went to sleep. When I woke up I felt much better, I guess I just needed some sleep to brighten my perception.

I have since moved into my aunt's house. This trip is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be, but it is still incredibly beautiful because I have an aunt that loves me like a mother.