and government buildings is no longer in Cyrillic but in Georgian and English (crossed out). Since 2006, Azhara has been President Saakashvili’s showpiece in Abkhazia. This is what the future will look like if Abkhazia returns to Georgia’s maternal embrace, was the point he wanted to make loud and clear.
B
It is indeed a world away from Abkhazia. The names and logos of international organisations and NGOs in Abkhazia are few and far between. You do not see the European flag anywhere. New schools with computer rooms are something we have not yet come across. For the Abkhazians who came to capture the Kodori Gorge, this village must have been unrecognisable, as their only point of reference was Soviet Georgia before the war in 1992. The only similarity with Abkhazia is that everything here is also in ruins. The bombing has been heavier than the people at the ministry wanted us to believe. The governor sends the Abkhaz soldier Eric C with us to the village. It consists of a small centre and small-scale farms along the arterial roads. We walk through the muddy streets looking for inhabitants. ‘There’s almost nobody,’ says Eric. ‘Everyone’s still in Georgia. When spring comes everyone will come back to work on the land.’ In an out-of-the-way house lives Zoya Mikiani D, a Georgian widow of 55. She takes honey-nut cake out of the cupboard and sits timidly at the table. Following our arrival, the house is immediately transformed into a local meeting place. Men with pistols and a Kalashnikov stomp inside and more or less take over. The small, quiet house suddenly takes on the appearance of a builder’s hut at lunchtime.
C D
Kodori Gorge
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