Rustaveli Avenue

                Shota Rustaveli (1172-1216) wrote the defining piece of early Georgian literature: The Knight of the Panthers Skin.  This epic poem talks of courage and friendship, love and chivalry, and the classic rescue of a princess in distress.  It is entirely proper that the grand thoroughfare that runs through the heart of Tbilisi is named for such a significant contributor to the rich Georgian culture.

                I’ve seen a lot of things on Rustaveli Avenue.  I watched a Russian made Lada automobile burn down to the frame in front of the Tbilisi Marriott Hotel.  I’ve gazed at the Christmas lights as they brought me an aura of peace while walking bundled against the cold December night.  There are families with their young children, old women selling seeds, and young lovers walking hand-in-hand oblivious to the swirl of activity.  I’ve seen concerts and car wrecks, parades and protests, and a dozen small kiosks where you can buy anything from popcorn to magazines to a single cigarette.  

All that said there is something you will never see on Rustaveli Avenue… A left turn.  I have often felt uneasy when the taxi driver whizzed past my turn without paying attention to my protests in a panicked combination of broken Georgian and Russian.  I know the street names in Georgian, but, embarrassingly, the words “left” and “street” only in Russian.  Our collective confusion ends quickly when we reach the unmarked, tacit turnaround near Rose Revolution Square.  Throughout the city, there are many traffic circles governed by some sort of unspoken creed and an occasional traffic signal which will save you from certain peril should you need to turn left.    

                In many ways, a walk down Rustaveli Avenue serves as a metaphor for life.  The wide, grand avenue ventures out boldly from its beginning at what is now called Freedom Square. Like a young man that enters out into the world with such great promise and looked upon proudly by the paternal eyes of a loving father, Rustaveli Avenue triumphantly begins its journey as the tall, golden statue of Saint George towers over the traffic circle where the voyage begins and the statue of the omniscient Mother of Georgia peers over the skyline. 

                Walking the avenue from Freedom Square, you are quickly surrounded by the dichotomy that is Tbilisi.  In an old stone building on the right, shops selling the latest in haute couture and Reebok athletic gear seem as foreign to the architecture as the concept of a ruling Tsar; the imperious sovereign at the time the structure was built.  On the left, the subway station bustles with activity as people move hurriedly back and forth paying little notice to the grandeur around them. 

                 The classic white marble of the Youth Palace seems to shine and contrasts the nearby buildings.  On the sidewalk, booksellers display textbooks, children’s books, and classic literature on long racks sitting out in the open air.  Across the street, the massive Georgian National Museum overwhelms its surroundings.

There are a number of underground crosswalks that are lined with shops offering a convenient way to avoid being struck by a myriad of buses, street cars, taxis, and speeding German sports cars.   Ignoring the underground walkways and sprinting across the street cost me knee surgery #3 after tumbling over a cobblestone trying to shoot the gap between a BMW and a Marshuka.

                Next on the left is the overpowering Parliament building with its imperial topaz colored stone, tall columns, and broad stairway leading into the legislative heart of the government.  There are 20 glass rectangles laid into the stone stairs and sidewalk representing the 20 victims of the April 9th, 1989 massacre that took place during a protest rally against the crumbling Soviet government.  That day is still honored as the Day of National Unity. 

                Across the street is the movie theater where it’s not uncommon to see American movies boldly advertised on posters in Georgian.  No matter what the language, Tom Cruse still looks like Tom Cruse.  The movies are mostly dubbed, and I have to admit I had a hard time adjusting to Will Smith speaking Georgian.  

                The old school sits next to the Parliament and peers across to the old Stone Church. It is said that in the 6^th century, St. David of Garejeli was accused of fathering a child with a nun. Incensed at the accusation, David decreed that she would give birth to a stone, which legend said she did, and that stone was laid at the base of the church. Next to the Church is the National Picture Gallery (Blue Gallery), behind which sits the large April 9^th Park.  Moving further, past the Tbilisi Marriott, Rustaveli Theatre, and Opera House, we now transition to shops, restaurants, banks, and the usual assortment of small stands selling seeds and some even offering a scale in case you want to weigh yourself for a mere 20 Tetri.  There are some quaint cafes and coffee shops, some that set up seating on the sidewalk so you can sit and observe the flurry of humanity passing by.  It’s here on Rustaveli Avenue where I convince myself to sit for a while, and enjoy a beer or a coffee before venturing onward.  Like any grand avenue in any European city, I know full well that if I wandered a block off the main street I would pay much less for that refreshment… but as always, you pay for the view… And it’s worth it.

                Soon the avenue seems to open up in the midst of a broad delta of busy traffic into Rose Revolution Square.  The new Radisson Blu Hotel, built from the skeleton of an old Soviet-era high rise stands gleaming in the sun behind the old Postal Service building.  The deep blue glass catches your eye and you momentarily lose track of where you are, only to focus back on the avenue as it subtly but sublimely changes names and bends left.  Commemorating the finale of this great thoroughfare, a statue of Shota Rustaveli stands tall and proud in a small park hidden ironically between the McDonald’s and the subway station; two iconic symbols of worldly progress and motion.  Like the young man, Rustaveli Avenue started out fast racing through a structured youth dominated by laws and learning, through cultural and spiritual revelation and social charm, towards a wide path leading to the modern, mature life of a gentleman who is confident in where he is going because of where he has been.

                Words can be powerful things.  They have started wars, and ended them; although it seems to take many more to end a war then to start one.  Words can be gracious, loving, and kind; they can be mean, hurtful, and cruel.  They can paint a picture of great beauty and splendor or depict immense ugliness and horror.  They help us through life by syncing our emotions with our physical being.  No matter what the language, words allow us to communicate thoughts great and small to an audience of one to millions.  Perhaps this is why great societies honor those that contribute so significantly to their cultures by naming some of their most elegant things after their poets and writers; Like Rustaveli Avenue.

When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy