Rules of Engagement

Georgia has no dating culture. Girls and boys may spend time together in public if they are apart of a group, but a girl and a boy out alone attract a good deal of unwanted attention, especially from the older generations. There are many public places in Georgia, parks and beaches for example, where you could be fined for a public display of affection. Even married couples rarely touch each other in any kind of intimate way in public.

On the second night I spent with my host family, I was sitting on the couch with Irma, my host sister, and a strapping young neighbor who was resting his hand gently around Irma’s shoulder, while her mother and father conversed just a few feet away at the dinning room table. This casual intimacy had me eyeing the interactions between Irma and this young man with particular interest, but was of little interest to my Georgian family for two primary reasons.

First, as it turns out, this neighbor has been a good friend of my family for years, and Irma later informed me that she thinks of him as a second brother. The fact remains; I cannot imagine myself sitting with a brother quite that way. 

Which brings me to reason number two. Georgians are a touchy people. My friend Elie recently shared with me the his unusual experience at a school meeting. He was sitting in a room with his three host teachers and the principal. He had stacked his hands one on the other on the table in front of him. This would seem a professional pose, except that one of his host teacher’s was gently rubbing her knuckle against his as the meeting progressed, the second had entwined her arm with his at the crook of his elbow, and the third was standing behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders.  Though Elie’s discomfort was liberal, no one else seemed to notice.

A great deal of the appropriateness of any touch here is determined by circumstance and location. As previously mentioned, a boy and girl sitting in a public place should not be touching, or even sitting particularly close, but are granted a great deal more freedom if they apart of a group. In a similar way, I think, school is a place where intimate touching just does not occur. Therefore, touching that occurs in school just isn’t intimate.

Another factor playing into Elie’s situation is that the affection that many of our colleagues feel toward the TLG volunteers, particularly because we are foreigners, is similar to the affection an American might feel for a pet. The other teachers at my school often approach me, pet my hair, and say, smiling, “lamazi, Hannah, lamazi.” (beautiful, Hannah, beautiful)

Finally, the arena that is the most immune to any familiar touching rules is public transport. In the marshutkas and buses it is perfectly acceptable to lean on, sit on, cross legs over, and for all intensive purposes cuddle with the person sitting, standing, leaning, or holding on for dear life next to you. This can get particularly unpleasant if your fellow marshutka passenger happens to be an individual that doesn’t put much stock into the idea of bathing. It happens.

And so it was on Friday, Sept. 23^rd that I set off, via marshutka, from Chkhorotsku to Zugdidi. For part of the ride I was sandwiched into the back row between two slim young Georgian men. When one of them got off, a much larger and older man lumbered back to take his seat. This man did not remotely fit the small space left by the younger man, and suddenly I was trapped, half of my right leg serving as extra seat cushion for Mr. Suit (he earned this nickname during the ride by sporting a scratch brown suit coat at least three sizes to big).

Seeing my discomfort, the young Georgian I began my journey with extracted his arm from between the two of us, reached around behind the seat, and gestured for me to move closer and fill the space his arm had been taking. I hesitated, but only for a moment before I decided that any effort I might have to make later discouraging this Georgian youth was well worth the thirty minutes left of our marshutka ride during which I did not want to be sat on. In the end, other than advocating to our driver to give me all of the change he owed me, this young man showed no interest in me after our cozy ride into town.