Transportation in Georgia: an exercise in futility

One of the greatest adventures and frustrations thus far in Georgia has been navigating the transportation system.

First of all, accessibility from the villages can be a challenge. Unless you have the good fortune to live on the international road and/or rail line (like our friend Brett), you have to catch one of the few marshutkas (minibuses) into the nearest town before you can travel between towns/cities. In order to make it back to your village, you either have to head home around 4:30pm at the latest on a marshutka or shell out 20x more for a cab ride (it costs .5GEL for marshutka, 10+ GEL for taxi).

Which brings me to the only disagreeable people who constantly try to rip you off that I have encountered in Georgia: taxi drivers. There’s no such thing as a meter here at all (even Egypt had them, though they claimed they were ‘broken’ all the time), so you must bargain for your fare. When it is obvious that you are not Georgian, your price increases significantly.

One of my low points in Georgia happened one night after some other volunteers and I had met up in the nearby town, Lanchkhuti. We were going home later in the evening, so my friend Brett and I decided to share a cab. We greeted the driver in Georgian and asked him how much it would cost to go to Etseri and Nigvziani villages. He said 10 lari. We repeated a few times that we needed to go to Etseri AND Nigvziani. He repeated 10 lari, so we agreed and hopped in.

The driver took us to Brett’s village first, which seemed strange. When Brett got out, he handed the driver a 5, and I had another 5 in my hand for when I got dropped off. The driver started yelling, “10! 10!” We tried to explain that I had the other 5 but that I needed to go to Etseri. He continued to rant and rave, but he wasn’t really naming a different price or asking for more money, just repeating “10!” Eventually he grabbed my 5 and started the car back up.

Concerned that he would demand another 10 lari from me upon arrival at my village, I decided to call my host dad who speaks very good English to see if he could sort things out. They spoke, and the driver hung up and handed my phone back to me. I thanked him in Georgian, but didn’t know what the resolution was. A few moments later, he pulled into a gas station still very FAR from my house, opened the door, and had me get out.

I tried calling my host dad again, but he didn’t answer. It was dark, I was alone, and I was very far from home. As a herd of cows meandered past me, I decided I better start walking toward the house (at least I wasn’t lost!), hoping that perhaps my host dad had told the driver to leave me there with the intention of coming to get me.

After maybe 10 minutes of walking, an SUV with floodlights stopped in front of me, and my host dad hopped out. Amiran to the rescue! He had come in his cousin’s car because his car had stopped (it was on the fritz at the time) across from his cousin’s house. We went back to the house where Gigi was playing with his little cousins and had some fruit, nuts, and my first taste of cha cha. Cha cha is Georgian moonshine, essentially (though most of the alcohol is homemade here – from wine to liquor). After a brief visit with the extended fam, we went back to Amiran’s car which got us the rest of the way home. What had been a temporarily miserable moment turned into a nice visit and provided yet another reason why my host dad is the best.

As for the marshutkas, I actually think that they are a great idea. They are basically shared taxis that run a specific route, but you can hop on and off wherever you like. They are inexpensive and about as efficient as things get in Georgia. Some are local, running routes around a specific city or town; these are often numbered. Other marshutkas run between cities/towns, and even a few to cities outside of Georgia.

The one caveat about these marshutkas is that they get FULL. People are packed in like sardines, with many forced to stand. The only other time I have experienced such an overabundance of humanity in such a confined space was on the P2P (point to point shuttle) on the weekends at Carolina. While you risk getting thrown up on in the P2P, the students do smell a lot better. Trade offs. Though I guess you do risk getting thrown up on in the marshutka if you sit next to Mitch after he’s been forced to drink excessively at a surprise supra. Luckily he managed to contain himself until we made it to our destination (but not a moment longer).

No matter where you’re going in Georgia, when you’re going, or your method of transport, it is best to be flexible because as Mitch said, “the only things that are ‘easy’ in this country are getting muddy and being late.”