Changes

When you’re living inside something, it’s difficult to see its changes. But to my eyes, Tbilisi has changed. In the capital, at least, power outages are now unusual occurrences (when I lived here, we had electricity only a few hours a day during the winter). The bloated and corrupt traffic police were disbanded and replaced with a smaller cadre of younger men who receive salaries rather than rely upon extortion from motorists. They have zippy new Volkswagon police cars too, and I have yet to see one of the cars in motion without its flashing lights on, even when they’re just taking a leisurely drive down the street. Georgians now admit that the police might not be the criminals they used to be. It’s a tremendous step forward in what was once one of the most corrupt countries in the world.

But there is still a long way to go. While trust in government isn’t at the all-time low it was prior to the Rose revolution, the cynicism is remarkable. The streets are thick with conspiracy theories about the recent and mysterious death of Zhvania, the prime minister, who did not march in lock-step with the president. Whether this extreme distrust in government is warranted or just part and parcel of the Georgian passion for drama is unclear.

In Georgia, there are never accidents – only skullduggery and the wrath of God. Killed while driving? It wasn’t because the driver was drunk, it was because he’d been drinking and then gone to church. Or it was a KGB hit. Or the mafia. Or, a wealthy businessman caused the accident and paid a bribe to cover it up. While the change in government has made some of these fantasies less likely, it hasn’t halted the Georgians’ natural tendency to grope for them.