And then came the Rain

You hike a bit in front of me as the day before, giving me the feeling that somehow I cannot keep up. I can't. I tell you to just leave me behind I wasn't as fast as you. Soon the dark clouds move over the mountains and within minutes I'm soaked, freezing cold from the rain and hail pouring down on me, the thunder rising while trying to pick some raspberries. In this stunning wilderness of Tusheti. Right before I reach the village you appear in front of me taking a selfie. I take one for you. I hurry to the village while you take some more pictures as the rain drops roll down on me, shivering I urge into houses, trying to find a place to stay. As we get to one guest house you instantly keep asking for food still outside, pointing us to sit down, insisting on ordering noone understanding us while I'm begging for a shower. Your persistence leads into the host taking your order while I stand next to you looking around how to find a way to get warm. I get out of the place, leave, walk up the tiny road, into the next place and find... My new host family. Even in this heavy rain their incredible colorful garden catches my attention, the beauty of the huge wooden balcony with the traditional Georgian art ornaments. Quickly Keto opens a room for me, fixes the bed, hands me a towel and an extra blanket. She sees my needs without question, the (grand)ma of the house. 

Only minutes later I find myself sitting wrapped in my last dry clothes in front of the oven in one of their arm chairs, the rest of the family spread around, Keto cooking a hot soup for me, Theo, opposite me and Anne on the bed couch reading a book (time travels). I hear a German voice coming out of Theo's phone. I look up to her and start speaking. Few minutes later we're sitting, talking for hours about what truly moves us inside, the differences in our cultures and why we chose the country of the respectively other one for some period in time, why she returned as I now heard it from other people in the same manner and what conflicts it arises in us, our lives and families. It reminds me deeply in my heart of what I've seen in a wonderful young man only a few weeks ago. The struggles, the inner oppositions of Georgian-German culture conflicting, in the attempt of bringing them together, integrating them, creating our identity newly but not forgetting where we're coming from, trying to form the best of our two worlds into one that can be united inside and outside of us. 

Drinking chacha that Theo offered to warm me up, while Keto puts the the hot lentil soup, salad, cheese and bread on the table and we're all eating together. After a few hour break with myself lying in bed covered in all clothes I have left and  three blankets to keep the temperature leveled, Anne calls me for dinner. Did I intend to find back to my bed afterwards quite a moving night presented itself to me unexpectedly when Theo invited me open heartedly again to sit on the fire to warm myself up. This time the room is filled with more people and the temperature rises. Neighbors from the next houses, mixed in age. Two women and men, two boys, the women cooking, the men drinking, afterwards sitting down to eat and drink together. Inviting me to eat with them when I just had dinner minutes before, I sit down on the side drinking one glass after another to be included while the role of the Tamada, speaking the toast moves around the table, Theo patiently and happily translating them to me, making me feel like part of the family which would show itself in its heartwarming nature only some hour later. Looking at the clock I was surprised I was still sitting there, the hand of the clock at ten as Anne sits down next to me. "Your necklace is beautiful" She says. I find this very attentive of her, being a 15 year old girl in the mountains in the middle of nowhere, spending her summer here she starts adoring this place she loves so much telling me how wonderful it is to be off the city, the internet, off the bad energies from the people and their fear, complaining all the time, their endless discussions and arguments, always wanting to be right instead of using their energy with care for something good, something greater to help the world instead of wasting it only to be right about things we will never know the truth of. I look at her in awe. In humbleness understanding how much more powerful the new generation has become. How did this amazingly beautiful soul who was only on the planet as a human being for as short as 15 years carry so much wisdom inside her heart. Not only that she looked like an old Indian woman, she also spoke with the same clarity, softness and love as if she'd lived on our planet as long as it was in existence. I looked into her eyes, listened, so touched feeling my uncountable glass of liquid life running through my veins. Does she tell me about her generation Z as I feel the truth speaking through her heart. 

"I'm always so happy when I speak to people like you about these things who listen and understand and don't think I'm crazy." Have I not heard the same sentence out of someone else's mouth from part of the family earlier that day, feeling the same warmth, the same gratitude towards them sharing their heart openly with me. May they be much more alike as they may know about each other. 

As I look to the table one of the neighbors who's spoken the most toasts invites me over to the table asking me to make the next toast as the Tamada. I feel deeply honored. As I sit down Theo keeps translating everything I say, I thank them for giving me a home and connecting our different cultures, I thank the rain for bringing me to their place. Keto looks into the faces around the table nods her head, yes she was so wet, soaked, dripping, she looks at me smiling mildly. And then I tell them from my heart. I tell them about this amazing young Georgian man I met only a few weeks ago in their country, telling them that I can see a future, about the love I feel and their excitement and happiness for me becomes overwhelming as they see me become part of the family. Their Georgian family, their lives, their culture. So proud, so humbled my glass is getting refilled at least three more times while the clock shows midnight and my new family dreams about my wedding with my Georgian man, toasting to love, to women, to connecting cultures. 

Only my Georgian man covers himself in silence but I don't tell them that.