THE TANGERINE FLAVOUR OF FREEDOM
2014-01-10
Category:
Books and Reviews
Author:
Łukasz Wojtusik
Abkhazia. By: Wojciech Gorecki. Publisher: Wydawnictwo Czarne,
Wołowiec Poland, 2013.
Abkhazia is like a tangerine - exotic, multi-layered and juicy. Each of
its little segments seemingly alike, yet different; and it is easily
divisible into pieces. Such is, also, Abkhazia by Wojciech Gorecki -
juicy and multi-layered. A history of this para-state, the leading
exporter of tangerines to the Russian market, is much more than just
an overview of the author's journeys to the Caucasus.
Abkhazia also becomes a bitter resume of his life as a reporter and
is definitely the most personal part of the reporter's trilogy.
Gorecki's fascination with the Caucasus is compiled into three
books: Planet Caucasus, A Toast to the Ancestors and Abkhazia (To
read a review of both books, see New Eastern Europe Issue 1(I)/2011;
"Ridge and Border" by Jacek Borkowicz). The latter is a collection of
Gorecki's notes from his numerous visits over a twenty-year period to
this land spread between the sea and the mountains. It is a peculiar
record, depicting the author's struggle with the history of his own
travels to the Caucasus. Why is it that Abkhazia should finish the
trilogy? Because it is the land of forgotten legends, a cultural and
ethnic melting-pot, a tiny spot on the world map fighting for its
right to self- determination.
Abkhazia is one of several para-states on the territory of the former
Soviet Union. The European Union considers it a part of Georgia and its
independence has only been recognised by Russia, Nicaragua, Venezuela,
Nauru, Vanuatu and Tuvalu. Abkhazia has its own president, government
and military. Its air force consists of one helicopter, its navy is
a fishing boat under the command of a zealous amateur actor, Ławnik
Achba. It is the land of the Abkhazians - highlanders and sailors;
and geographically it is a link between the Mediterranean world and
the Caucasus.
One of many trade routes on the historic Silk Road, 19th-century
Abkhazia was turned into the Suchomska Military Road by the Russians.
Gorecki searches for the sources of Abkhazia's independence, the
foundations of its statehood and religion; and he tries to discover
the truth. The people of Abkhazia speak of independence in many
different ways and fight for their freedom by invoking history. It
is not just the Abkhazians and Georgians whose interests are all
mixed-up in this multi-cultural melting-pot. There are also Chechens,
Cabardians, the highlanders of Dagestan, and the Ingushians who
assert their rights in Abkhazia. This land on the Black Sea is home
to both those fighting for independence and those seeking refuge in
the aftermath of wars. Gorecki takes a closer look at the refugees -
the inhabitants of the borderlands. Stories of people with uncertain
national identities are interspersed.
Ironically, some of them view their homeland from quite a distant
perspective. Fazil Iskander, one of the most important Abkhazian
writers, and considered a potential Nobel Prize winner by some literary
specialists, is one striking example. A long-standing inhabitant of
Moscow and the author of books written in Russian, he has been fighting
for Abkhazia on the international scene. Through his words, he breaks
down barriers that no other emissaries have been able to reach.
Gorecki's discussions on religion illustrate the complicated issues
that exist in the unrecognised state. Quoting scientific data, Gorecki
has found that 80 per cent of Abkhazians are members of the Orthodox
Church, 20 per cent are Muslim and 100 per cent are pagan. Take the
politicians for example - those who currently run the country and
the opposition. It isn't the current authorities of Abkhazia which is
going to decide the future of this para-state. Rather, it is Russia
which is in control of political order in this region. And Georgia
isn't going to let Russia take away what they consider to be part of
Georgian territory. This complicated history of political and freedom
movements and mutual inter-state relations is presented by Gorecki
in a surprisingly lucid manner.
The book mixes different genres, from travel journal to literary
column; from descriptive passages of a city to a historical sketch.
The author intersperses dialogues with notes taken during his trips.
The meetings are short and the interlocutors are crude; although not
particularly talkative as, according to the author, the Abkhazian
soul is difficult to penetrate. The Abkhazians appear to be the least
spontaneous of all the Caucasian peoples. Perhaps it is their way
of demanding more attention and their reserve which is supposed to
increase journalists' interest in this region.
The author also brings us on a journey to look for Polish traces in
Abkhazia. It is with true dedication that Gorecki writes about the
story of Jan Godawa, a Pole who fought during the Georgian-Abkhazian
war on the side of the Abkhazians; or Teofil Łapiński who fought
against Imperial Russia in the Caucasus in the 19th century. Many
Abkhazians born in the 1950s carry Polish names: Stanisław and Teofil
appear quite regularly.
In the last part of his Caucasian trilogy, Gorecki also presents the
story of himself. In the early 1990s, we encounter a young student
attempting to write two university dissertations, a traveller to the
East, a writer and researcher on this region. He asks questions
but doesn't always come up with the answers - and thus, digs
deeper. He uses every possible opportunity to travel to the East. The
Abkhazian-Georgian war of 1992-1993 is the first military conflict
in which Gorecki worked as a war correspondent. As time passed,
his work presented him with even more questions, more enthusiasm and
more opportunities. And his collection of books is one which could
be found in a second-hand bookshop in Russia.
Gorecki finishes Abkhazia on a personal note. When he arrives at a
conference in Yerevan, sponsored by the Parliamentary Assembly of
the United Nations, he is already in his forties. He is a man of the
world, wearing a suit and a tie. During the past 20 years, the student
became a lecturer, and the reporter became a researcher at the Centre
for Eastern Studies. There is no need for him to plan anything any
longer. Each detail of his trip is now scheduled for him - from the
flight from an airport in Poland, to his stay at the Marriott Hotel
in Yerevan. He doesn't need to search for topics - as a conference
participant, he presents topics for discussion. And he sets a trap
for himself; realising this when he sees a boy selling pictures in
front of the Marriott Hotel. Gorecki admits that: "One cannot get
away with playing two different roles, mixing two different orders.
One cannot be both a man of the world and a globetrotter at the same
time. One cannot sleep at the Marriott and remain a reporter."
Some time ago, at the beginning of his journey, in the first chapter
of Abkhazia. He stayed in a run-down sanatorium building called
Chernomoryetz, where he warmed himself up with alcohol, lived on canned
food and wondered whether he would wake up in the morning. As time
went by, he switched from places without electricity to the comfort
of world-class hotel chains, and from telling the stories of local
people to scientific analysis of the socio-political situation.
And although this punch line might seem bitter, it is what makes
Abkhazia the juiciest fruit of Gorecki's work as a reporter.
Translated by Agnieszka Rubka
This review originally appeared in New Eastern Europe issue 4(IX)/2013.
Łukasz Wojtusik is a Polish journalist and radio reporter. He is the
head of the Krakow office of the radio program TOK FM.
http://neweasterneurope.eu/node/1098
2014-01-10
Category:
Books and Reviews
Author:
Łukasz Wojtusik
Abkhazia. By: Wojciech Gorecki. Publisher: Wydawnictwo Czarne,
Wołowiec Poland, 2013.
Abkhazia is like a tangerine - exotic, multi-layered and juicy. Each of
its little segments seemingly alike, yet different; and it is easily
divisible into pieces. Such is, also, Abkhazia by Wojciech Gorecki -
juicy and multi-layered. A history of this para-state, the leading
exporter of tangerines to the Russian market, is much more than just
an overview of the author's journeys to the Caucasus.
Abkhazia also becomes a bitter resume of his life as a reporter and
is definitely the most personal part of the reporter's trilogy.
Gorecki's fascination with the Caucasus is compiled into three
books: Planet Caucasus, A Toast to the Ancestors and Abkhazia (To
read a review of both books, see New Eastern Europe Issue 1(I)/2011;
"Ridge and Border" by Jacek Borkowicz). The latter is a collection of
Gorecki's notes from his numerous visits over a twenty-year period to
this land spread between the sea and the mountains. It is a peculiar
record, depicting the author's struggle with the history of his own
travels to the Caucasus. Why is it that Abkhazia should finish the
trilogy? Because it is the land of forgotten legends, a cultural and
ethnic melting-pot, a tiny spot on the world map fighting for its
right to self- determination.
Abkhazia is one of several para-states on the territory of the former
Soviet Union. The European Union considers it a part of Georgia and its
independence has only been recognised by Russia, Nicaragua, Venezuela,
Nauru, Vanuatu and Tuvalu. Abkhazia has its own president, government
and military. Its air force consists of one helicopter, its navy is
a fishing boat under the command of a zealous amateur actor, Ławnik
Achba. It is the land of the Abkhazians - highlanders and sailors;
and geographically it is a link between the Mediterranean world and
the Caucasus.
One of many trade routes on the historic Silk Road, 19th-century
Abkhazia was turned into the Suchomska Military Road by the Russians.
Gorecki searches for the sources of Abkhazia's independence, the
foundations of its statehood and religion; and he tries to discover
the truth. The people of Abkhazia speak of independence in many
different ways and fight for their freedom by invoking history. It
is not just the Abkhazians and Georgians whose interests are all
mixed-up in this multi-cultural melting-pot. There are also Chechens,
Cabardians, the highlanders of Dagestan, and the Ingushians who
assert their rights in Abkhazia. This land on the Black Sea is home
to both those fighting for independence and those seeking refuge in
the aftermath of wars. Gorecki takes a closer look at the refugees -
the inhabitants of the borderlands. Stories of people with uncertain
national identities are interspersed.
Ironically, some of them view their homeland from quite a distant
perspective. Fazil Iskander, one of the most important Abkhazian
writers, and considered a potential Nobel Prize winner by some literary
specialists, is one striking example. A long-standing inhabitant of
Moscow and the author of books written in Russian, he has been fighting
for Abkhazia on the international scene. Through his words, he breaks
down barriers that no other emissaries have been able to reach.
Gorecki's discussions on religion illustrate the complicated issues
that exist in the unrecognised state. Quoting scientific data, Gorecki
has found that 80 per cent of Abkhazians are members of the Orthodox
Church, 20 per cent are Muslim and 100 per cent are pagan. Take the
politicians for example - those who currently run the country and
the opposition. It isn't the current authorities of Abkhazia which is
going to decide the future of this para-state. Rather, it is Russia
which is in control of political order in this region. And Georgia
isn't going to let Russia take away what they consider to be part of
Georgian territory. This complicated history of political and freedom
movements and mutual inter-state relations is presented by Gorecki
in a surprisingly lucid manner.
The book mixes different genres, from travel journal to literary
column; from descriptive passages of a city to a historical sketch.
The author intersperses dialogues with notes taken during his trips.
The meetings are short and the interlocutors are crude; although not
particularly talkative as, according to the author, the Abkhazian
soul is difficult to penetrate. The Abkhazians appear to be the least
spontaneous of all the Caucasian peoples. Perhaps it is their way
of demanding more attention and their reserve which is supposed to
increase journalists' interest in this region.
The author also brings us on a journey to look for Polish traces in
Abkhazia. It is with true dedication that Gorecki writes about the
story of Jan Godawa, a Pole who fought during the Georgian-Abkhazian
war on the side of the Abkhazians; or Teofil Łapiński who fought
against Imperial Russia in the Caucasus in the 19th century. Many
Abkhazians born in the 1950s carry Polish names: Stanisław and Teofil
appear quite regularly.
In the last part of his Caucasian trilogy, Gorecki also presents the
story of himself. In the early 1990s, we encounter a young student
attempting to write two university dissertations, a traveller to the
East, a writer and researcher on this region. He asks questions
but doesn't always come up with the answers - and thus, digs
deeper. He uses every possible opportunity to travel to the East. The
Abkhazian-Georgian war of 1992-1993 is the first military conflict
in which Gorecki worked as a war correspondent. As time passed,
his work presented him with even more questions, more enthusiasm and
more opportunities. And his collection of books is one which could
be found in a second-hand bookshop in Russia.
Gorecki finishes Abkhazia on a personal note. When he arrives at a
conference in Yerevan, sponsored by the Parliamentary Assembly of
the United Nations, he is already in his forties. He is a man of the
world, wearing a suit and a tie. During the past 20 years, the student
became a lecturer, and the reporter became a researcher at the Centre
for Eastern Studies. There is no need for him to plan anything any
longer. Each detail of his trip is now scheduled for him - from the
flight from an airport in Poland, to his stay at the Marriott Hotel
in Yerevan. He doesn't need to search for topics - as a conference
participant, he presents topics for discussion. And he sets a trap
for himself; realising this when he sees a boy selling pictures in
front of the Marriott Hotel. Gorecki admits that: "One cannot get
away with playing two different roles, mixing two different orders.
One cannot be both a man of the world and a globetrotter at the same
time. One cannot sleep at the Marriott and remain a reporter."
Some time ago, at the beginning of his journey, in the first chapter
of Abkhazia. He stayed in a run-down sanatorium building called
Chernomoryetz, where he warmed himself up with alcohol, lived on canned
food and wondered whether he would wake up in the morning. As time
went by, he switched from places without electricity to the comfort
of world-class hotel chains, and from telling the stories of local
people to scientific analysis of the socio-political situation.
And although this punch line might seem bitter, it is what makes
Abkhazia the juiciest fruit of Gorecki's work as a reporter.
Translated by Agnieszka Rubka
This review originally appeared in New Eastern Europe issue 4(IX)/2013.
Łukasz Wojtusik is a Polish journalist and radio reporter. He is the
head of the Krakow office of the radio program TOK FM.
http://neweasterneurope.eu/node/1098