It was the saddest wedding I have ever attended. It was in Tbilisi, restaurant Apkhazeti (Name of Abkhazia in Geogrian), on the river bank. It was an IDP wedding. Sounds strange right? What I mean is, a groom was an IDP from Abkhazia. His guests as well. And it was a sad wedding, not because it involved IDPs from Abkhazia, but because, everybody around, though very happy for the marrage of an young man, still were very sad. It was their natural condition. That is the way they have been feeling for 20 years now and the wedding could be no different.
The party had a toaste-master, or Tamada in Georgian. A father of a groom had thanked him for kindly assuming this reponsibility "This is a first time you wear a white shirt since the war, but I needed you today. This is a third wedding among our relatives, but we had so much more burials, and the sorrow overshadows even such a special day. So, you have to put a white shirt on you. "
Songs were sad and so were toasts. Toasts for beautiful Sukhumi, for deseased relatives, for lost friends, for torn apart societies.
I wish it will be a happy marriage for my dear friend, who often tells me "I will invite you to visit me in Sukhumi, but maybe we will be too old then".
Here is the song which was played several times:
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