At the entrance to the cathedral in the Abkhaz capital, Sukhumi, one Saturday this summer, women kissed the hand of the white-bearded Father Vissarion Apliaa, the self-declared “interim bishop of the Abkhaz Orthodox Church.” Devotional items were displayed on a table near the door, including small pictures of the slain Russian Tsar Nicholas II and his family.
It was a 300-person-strong rally, but 58-year-old Alexander Ankvab, de facto vice-president of the breakaway region of Abkhazia and candidate for its de facto presidency, saw no need to address supporters with a microphone. And perhaps there was no need.
Although divided by a separatist conflict and decades of tension, Abkhaz and Georgians have proven willing to set mutual grievances aside when humanitarian matters come into play. One such area is the treatment of those infected with HIV/AIDS.
It’s Thursday night at the Soviet-era House of Culture in Agudzera, a village outside Sukhumi, the capital of the breakaway region of Abkhazia, and three Abkhaz rock bands are setting up for a concert. The lighting and sound system is professional and right out of the box, but guitarist Alexander Tsamruk of the band Ferumage must adjust the levels because there is no soundman.
France may be known for its berets, and Spain for its mantillas, but few national costumes are linked to as strong a sense of national pride as Georgia’s chokhas.
Just over two years after war drove them from their homes in South Ossetia, hundreds of ethnic Georgians again face displacement with their eviction from a temporary shelter in a government-owned building in Tbilisi. Residents call the action totally unexpected; a group of rule of law monitors claims that the eviction is illegal.
Georgia may have reformed its police, rebooted its electricity supplies and cracked down on tax dodgers, but when it comes to Georgian drivers, the country faces of one its biggest reform challenges yet.
