Don't Expect Too Much--You'll Love It

There's a little show called Flight of the Conchords that has literally been my own personal life raft since the first day I arrived at my original host home in Mtskheta.  Nestled in my bed wearing full winter regalia, I savored one episode a day, determined to prolong the enjoyment as much as possible because I had literally nothing else to do except stare blankly at the fireplace upstairs and will myself not to die of boredom. 

That was almost 5 months ago.  I can recite the entire series backwards by now.

Anyway, for those of you not "in the know" about this cult gem, it follows "New Zealand's 4th most popular folk parody duo" as they try to make it big in the States.  A running gag on the show is the promotional posters that hang in the New Zealand consulate office, each one a bit more lame than the last in its attempt to paint New Zealand as a country worth visiting.  "New Zealand...Rocks!!!"  "New Zealand.  Why Not?" And my favorite: "New Zealand.  Don't expect too much--you'll love it."

What does this have to do with Georgia?  Oh, it just brings to mind this gem I saw while I was in Batumi:

It's short, it's blunt, and it smacks of desperation--can you think of a better way to promote your country?  The poster perfectly captures the inferiority complex that exists here on a national level, the kind that needs constant reassurance that, "Yes, yes, your country is the most beautiful in the world, and oh, what delicious wine you have, and of course you'll be in the European Union soon, but wait your turn, Turkey raised its hand first." 

"Don't expect too much--you'll love it" could very well sum up my experience here (yes, with just about two weeks left, I'm starting to "sum things up").  The only real research I did before coming here was to read through the WikiTravel article on Tbilisi that my dad gave to me; my expectations about the country were limited to all the bars, restaurants, and museums I was going to visit when I lived in what seemed to be the modern, bustling capital.  Though few, my expectations were high.  And when some heinous mix-up in the universe exiled me into the far reaches of village life, they were dashed.

My mistake was expecting too much and knowing too little about a country I was about to call home.  Now, so near the end of my time here, I have stopped expecting Georgia to be anything but Georgia--and certainly not Europe--and I'm actually kind of starting to love it.  

You know...in a Stockholm Syndrome kind of way.