Jamie Hangs With Grandpa

I'd like to talk about why my host grandpa is one of the coolest people I know. 

He's a thin, wiry old man with short buzzed gray hair and beard stubble. He walks through the streets with his traditional Kakhetian felt cap, that I've only seen the older generations still wearing, with his donkey pulling an old wooden wagon. 

I assume he's smoked since he was twelve, like many Georgian boys, because now he has no voice left, just a wheeze that looks like it takes quite a bit of effort to produce. He doesn't smoke anymore, and I'm assuming that's why. 

Every morning he lifts an espresso cup filled with chacha (homemade moonshine, made out of the grape skins and pulp that remain after making the wine), wheezes out a cheers, and knocks it back.

Grandpa has made me his drinking buddy. Typically, we are the only ones drinking at lunch and dinner. He will pull out a mason jar filled with wine from the storage room, and once he's poured out the last drop, he lifts his hands in triumph and slams it down on the table. As I think I've mentioned previously, you don't sip your wine whenever you want to, you wait for the tamada (toastmaster) to make a toast and then you drink about half your cup. Grandpa always tells people that he's teaching me Georgian. This Georgian that he's teaching me though, is limited to the drinking sphere. At first he made me repeat all his toasts "To our parents! Cheers! - Now you say it!"

"To our parents! Cheers!" I would reply.

Once he was convinced that I had it down he would sit down at the table with 2 cups and a pitcher of wine, and say "You're the toastmaster." And I would cheers our parents, our siblings, the children, the church, and peace, and would refill our wine glasses after every toast. 

If I came home from school late and he had already eaten, he would come in the kitchen and throw up his arms in exasperation and say "Why aren't you drinking wine? You know where the wine is!"

In Georgia, they don't have the same qualms about drinking alone. Or drinking in the morning. Or drinking before noon. Or drinking with children who's age is still in the single digits. Basically, one thing you can count on here, is you're probably not going to be judged based on your alcohol consumption habits. Unless you drink without toasting. That will get people talking. 

The coolest thing about my grandpa is that he's laid back. He doesn't get dramatic or join in the constant shouting that goes on between Georgians in normal conversation. Granted, this may be because he literally is not capable of shouting, but still. 

His facial expressions are priceless, and make up for what his vocal chords lack. Maybe one of the funniest things I've seen here was when my host dad brought home a can of Red Bull. I declined his offer to have any, telling him it tasted bad, and instead watched him pour a glass for himself, and for grandma and grandpa. I don't know how to say "I told you so" in Georgian, but it was enough for me to see them sputtering and gagging. My grandpa most of all, with a look on his face that so clearly said "What the **** is this ****??"

All in all, he's a pretty cool guy, and I'll miss him. But I know he'll be toasting to me from Georgia.