Here we go again. New country, new baby, new job (James), new identity (me). Not in the witness protection program kind of way, just in the no longer a career woman becoming a stay at home mom kind of way. This blog got it's title from the question we got every time we told people we were moving to Tbilisi, Georgia: "Is that near Atlanta or Augusta?" Yes. Just east of Atlanta friend. And, well, north of Turkey.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

O Christmas Tree

I love a real, live Christmas tree.  That yummy pine smell does not come in a bottle, contrary to some opinions.  And there is no way a fake tree is going to coat you with sticky stuff or get needles all over your house.  No way.

To my surprise and chagrin it is nearly impossible to get a real tree here in Georgia.  Apparently they all got chopped down for firewood during the Soviet invasion and they are in very short supply.  And also, they don't put trees in their homes here for Christmas - real or fake.  Odd, I know.  I mean, why wouldn't you put a TREE in your HOUSE?  Regardless, I was determined for Cora to have a proper tree for her first Christmas.

My trusty nanny, Sopo, went on the hunt with me and put her whole family to work scouting out trees around the country.  They are amazing.  It was no easy task. 

Finally we found a guy who sells trees largely to diplomats like ourselves and basically tries to take you for all you've got in the process.  $300 lari for a 2 meter tall tree.  To put it in perspective, that's about 1/2 a month's salary for most people here.  About $180 dollars. 

It was pricey, and ridiculous, but I really, really, really wanted a tree to make us feel a little more at home.  I was waffling on spending the money, and had Sopo call this guy (David) to see if he could negotiate a smaller tree for cheaper.  Turns out he did have smaller trees, but he charged the same rate.  Period.  She told him we'd have to think about it. 

David called back the next morning to follow up.  Of course his English is spotty at best (we are in Georgia) and my Georgian is worse.  He asked me if I decided if I want the tree in broken English and the following is our conversation:

David:  Christmas tree?
Me:  It's too expensive.  My husband says too much.
David: You speak Russian?
Me: No
David:  Christmas tree?
Me:  Too expensive.
David:  Christmas tree.  Three, Zero, Zero, Lari.

I pause.  This guy is maybe a little desperate - after all he's calling me.  He said no negotiating yesterday, but why not?  I can say numbers too.

Me:  Um...Two, Zero, Zero Lari.

I wait for him to get angry and hang up. 
Pause.
Pause.

David:  Two Five Zero lari.

Cash money!  Turns out you can negotiate even when you don't understand each other's language.

Me:  Two, zero, zero.
David:  Tell Georgian person call me.

So, Sopo calls him and tells him two hundred lari is my final offer (although now I think I should have gone lower) and next thing I know there is a tree being delivered. 

A 2 meter tree, right?

I can only laugh and silently congratulate David for his victory when the tree rolls up to our house and about 1 meter of it is bough-filled pine tree and the other (top) meter is basically a long, bare trunk.  Turns out David gets the last laugh after all.

But, it's OK, I love my Christmas tree and it's piney delicious smell. 


We had to trim it to get it in the house, so this picture doesn't do the long, bare top justice.  But you can still see it is a rather odd shaped tree with strange and mismatched boughs.  Sopo tells us it is "original."  

Merry Christmas Charlie Brown!



p.s. Sleep training "Georgian style" started two days ago.  More to come.


1 comment:

  1. Good for you! I never regret the work or dinero it takes to maintain our own cultural traditions. And you have impressive negotiating skills. They will be useful when Cora is 3 :)

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