Chapter 5 of Nobody Told Me About Tbilisi

A taxi ride in Tbilisi is rarely just a journey. Before you arrive, your driver may explain the traffic, the government, the neighbourhood – and possibly your own life.

In Tbilisi, a taxi driver never asks how to get there. He only asks for the address. Everything else has already been decided. When you tell him the address, he nods. That doesn’t mean he agrees. It means he’s already chosen a different route and is politely waiting for you to finish talking.

A minute later, you’ll learn that your street is closed – even though it isn’t. That there are roadworks – even though there aren’t. And that he knows a shorter way: through a courtyard, past the market, along the river. It doesn’t matter where. What matters is that it isn’t the way you suggested.

If you try to argue, you catch his eye in the rearview mirror. It’s the look of a man who genuinely feels sorry for you. Because you still haven’t understood one simple thing: the decision has already been made.

“Why go that way, genatsvale? This way’s shorter.”

Prayer beads hang from the rearview mirror. Nobody touches them. They’re there exclusively for the passengers who are beginning to panic. On the way, he’ll honk twice – not in anger, just saying hello. Once he’ll pull over by a fruit stall, exchange a few words with the vendor, and drive on. You’ll start to get nervous. Don’t. The meter won’t notice – but the driver now knows the figs aren’t worth buying today. Tomorrow they’ll be better.

And somehow, you really do arrive faster than the GPS predicted. Just not exactly where you thought you were going. But exactly where, as it turns out, you needed to be.

Arguing is pointless. Not because he’s right. Because he’s already decided he is.

✦

Word of the Day: Genatsvale (geh-nahts-VAH-leh) – a word that can mean “dear friend”… or “I’m about to explain why you’re wrong.”