Beautiful Valleys - Svaneti

My journey to Svaneti started when I found 3 other travelers on Facebook who are also planning a trip to this remote region. We met for a brief talk in a restaurant in Tbilisi. I ate Shkmeruli, a chicken in a heavy garlic sauce, and for the first time, I tried something I deemed impossible, a bad Georgian wine. To be fair, the restaurant was in the basement, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they made the wine in a bathroom behind the kitchen. Our small group consisted of Croatian, Danish, Argentinian, and Russian power. Later on, a powerful Scottish girl joined our arsenal.

My guiding star motivating me to reach Svaneti was an image of striking towers adorning the mountainous landscape. I believe that the same image is the reason for the majority of visits they get. Svaneti is incredibly secluded and for the bigger part of history large kingdoms and empires never entered, but simply passed them by beneath the mountains. The invaders were always scared of getting stuck amid high Caucasian peaks over winter. Heavy snowfall blocks all the passageways for more than 6 months.

The land is inhabited by Svans who speak their own language loosely related to the Georgian language. They are incredibly sturdy and generous people. I spoke to a few, but their greatest impact on me came through the medium of film. I watched a film called “Dede” in Mestia, the capital of the region. The title of the film translates to “mother”. The plot revolves around a woman who is trying to keep her son despite the harsh Svaneti traditions that are forbidding her to do so. I would recommend this film to anyone, not just to people interested in this part of the world.

The unique defense towers you will see in a lot of photos are called koshki. In the past, they were a part of almost every house in Svaneti. They weren’t just protecting families from outsiders, but also from blood feuds and many brutal local disputes during which entire families would lock themselves inside their towers for months.

The deeper you go into Svaneti, the more towers will adorn the landscape. I went all the way to Ushguli which is the best preserved Svanetian town, currently under UNESCO protection.

Unfortunately, the rest of Svaneti is slowly losing its visual identity. In the center of construction sites are no longer little stone houses, but wooden Alpine huts with sharp roofs. Despite the invasion of modern architecture, the spiritual culture and customs live on.

Right above Ushguli is the highest peak in Georgia, Shkhara, standing at 5,193m. We arrived at Ushguli by taxi after a couple of hours on uneven dirt roads. One of my companions was a small Scottish woman, and apparently, she doesn’t have many neck muscles so her head was bobbing from one shoulder to another. I’m not sure if what I just wrote about neck muscles is true, but she did have to keep her head in place using her hands.

After we roamed a bit around Ushguli, the taxi took us down the valley to Shkara Glacier. It dropped us right next to a lonely restaurant at the end of the dirt road. As everywhere in Georgia, we were first greeted by a couple of dogs. This was at the end of September, so there was no one there besides us, in fact, they were just getting ready to close the restaurant for the winter. A young German guy greeted us inside and cooked us some soup before we departed on a hike for two hours to the biggest piece of ice I ever saw.

On the last day before departure, we went on a small hike above Mestia. It was raining, so we decided not to venture too far in case it starts pouring. However, we couldn’t resist the temptation to climb to the top of the hill through the forest even though no road lead there. After breaking through the bushes and low-hanging branches, we arrived at the beautiful plateau with a view of the valley. We even met a whole cohort of people picking up mushrooms, unfortunately, they didn’t know a word of English.

The most memorable part of this hike wasn’t the view, but a special tree we came across at the end of our trail. There was a giant rock split almost perfectly in half, like the one in Saudia Arabia that looks like it was cut with a laser. The two halves of a tree were about one meter from one another, and right between them, a tree was growing from the ground, towering above the split stone. We stood for a bit there, admiring it, and then we decided to pray. Our Scottish companion was very religious, but the rest of the party didn’t care much about spirituality, nevertheless, we all loved the idea to honor something greater than us in front of this unusual tree.

Svans have some of the strangest rituals I have ever encountered. One of them is called Lipanali during which, according to Svans, the dead walk amongst us. Funny enough, this festival takes place every year on January 18th, right on my birthday. People in Svaneti truly believe their ancestors visit their houses to dine together. The carer of the house, usually a woman, will prepare a huge feast for the dead that will be there for two days so the souls of the deceased can eat. They say they can feel the souls of their ancestors visiting them. I believe them. I’m not sure how it happens, but I’m sure something is going on.

There are actually two festivals during Lipanali, the second one takes place several days after the main one. Svans believe the deceased keep the same physical characteristics they had during life, so the second festival is meant to accommodate the souls of disabled people who need a bit longer to arrive in the land of the living from the spirit world. I can only applaud their dedication to making every spirit as comfortable as possible.

In the past, all places on Earth were enchanted for the people who lived there. A huge rock that looked like a fist was seen as a giant buried underneath the earth with only one part of his body peeking above the ground. A hill shaped like a women’s silhouette was a gentle and giving part of nature on which you should walk softly so as not to disturb the sleepy maiden. The hills on both sides of the valley in Svaneti are often full of churches, each dedicated to a saint. But in the past, these places were honoring different dieties and it was believed they reside right at the place where a small shrine or a temple would be erected. One such location is the church of the Mother of God in Ushguli, popularly called the Lamaria church. Lamaria was a pagan goddess of female function and she kept the house safe. Later on, they replaced her with Mary, the mother of Jesus.

There is a festival in Svaneti called “Tower feat” in which participants build big snow towers with a sacred tree on top, and a figurine of Lamaria hanging from the highest branches. The People dance around the structure shaking the tree until the figurine falls. Village’s children then have to race to climb the tower and grab the figurine. I have never seen this ritual take place, so I’m not sure if this is exactly how it goes.

On our way to Ushguli, we first stopped to check out the church towering about the road. I read somewhere that this place is akin to Delphi in Greece. The reason for that is numerous holy icons preserved inside the church which act as a symbol of unity for the locals. The claim is a bit bold, but I understand where he is coming from.

The church was closed so we had to climb over the wall to get into its premises. There were a couple of rooms that act like warehouses around. We took a peak into them through the cracks in wooden doors, and indeed inside one of them were hundreds of holy icons. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone around to talk to or anyone to unlock the church for us so we can pray inside. Nevertheless, we found some candles, left some money, and lit them up on a nearby wall already black from all the candle soot, and we made a wish.

This is a special place, I mean, almost all temples on top of hills overlooking valleys are extremely special places and I would rank them all at the top of my favorites.