There is a word in Georgian – თავისუფლების. Tawisupleba. It is mixed out of the words “Head” and “Right” to create its translation – Freedom.
Last year I made the best decision in my life. I traveled to Georgia for four weeks. And there is one day, that will be in my mind forever.
I came out of the train station, it was about 7am. I took a night train from Tbilisi to Batumi. I barely slept that night, so I felt the coldness even more. Half asleep I walked outside and saw the sea. The black sea. The sun was rising, sunbeams kissed my tired skin. And then I met Darina. She is Georgian living in Germany. We decided to walk together the way to the city ( it took us about 1 hour and 30 minutes). I never saw her before. But there was a connection between us. And while we kept going, kept talking, the sun kept rising. I heard the sound of the waves, a sound I’m always connecting with freedom. The waves take the sand, the stones from the shore and keep them inside the deepness of the water. My mind was somewhere else as Darina suddenly told me to turn around. I looked in her eyes and saw a glance. ‘I missed this place so much’, she told me. Her home, her country, her life. I was hooked by her eyes but turned around. The sun covered the mountains in a delicate pink curtain. Wind was in my hair, the smell of salt and freedom in my nose.
For me it is freedom, the sweetness of the ocean, the smoky atmosphere in that little flat. The people around with their wisdom, willingly to share it.