June 25, 2009
Half-Abkhaz, Half-Georgian -- One Woman Fights To Preserve Ethnic Heritage
by Brian Whitmore
Lela
Avidzba reads the poem "The Knight In The Panther's Skin" by Shota
Rustaveli (in the original Georgian, Russian, and Abkhaz).
TBILISI -- Lela Avidzba is a rarity -- an Abkhaz who is fluent in the Abkhaz language.
According
to most estimates, up to one-third of Abkhaz cannot speak their
language, even on a basic level. Even fewer can read or write it. The
dominant language in Abkhazia -- which broke from Georgian rule after a
bitter war in the early 1990s, and saw its de facto independence
recognized by Moscow last August -- is Russian.
Avidzba's
mastery of her intricate native tongue -- with its bewildering,
64-letter alphabet and complex phonetics, is remarkable. Making it all
the more remarkable is the fact that she is actually half-Georgian, and
lives not in Abkhazia, but the Georgian capital, Tbilisi.
Hers
was one of the thousands of families torn apart by the 1992-93 war
between Georgian forces and Abkhaz nationalists looking to break free
from Tbilisi's control. About 15,000 people were killed, and hundreds
of thousands of ethnic Georgians were expelled from Abkhaz territory.
Avidzba,
an effusive 32-year-old with light brown hair, was born to a Georgian
mother and an Abkhaz father, was a teenager living in the Abkhaz
capital Sukhumi when the war broke out. Her parents sent her to Tbilisi
for safety, but remained in Abkhazia themselves.
Avidzba's
father, Sergei, died in 2006. Her mother, Luisa, still lives in
Sukhumi, but Avidzba, who is no longer welcome in her homeland, is
unable to see her.
Avidzba was detained and interrogated for
several days while visiting her ailing father in Sukhumi. Since her
father's death, Abkhaz authorities have denied Avidzba permission to
visit her relatives in the territory altogether.
Torn Between Nations
Avidzba
says that the walls that have been erected between the Abkhaz and
Georgian peoples are as artificial as those separating her family.
"We lived together our whole lives. Abkhaz and Georgian cultures are indivisible," Avidzba says.
"There
are common traditions and mixed families. My mother is Georgian and my
father was Abkhaz. This is the worst possible situation for a family to
be in. Both sides are a part of me."
Easily conversant in
Georgian and Abkhaz -- as well as in Russian -- Avidzba has worked
tirelessly to bridge the gaps between her two nations.
She is
raising her son Nikolas to speak both Georgian and Abkhaz. As a
spokeswoman for the Georgian government, she is one of the most
prominent Abkhaz in Tbilisi, and even hosts a talk show in the Abkhaz
language on Georgian television.
Inching Toward ReconciliationIn
2004, together with her mother, Avidzba helped organize a visit to
Georgia for Abkhaz children who lost parents in the 1992-93 war. She
said the children relaxed at a spa, toured Tbilisi, and met Georgian
President Mikheil Saakashvili.
"When the children left -- and
they were little children -- they wrote letters saying, 'Georgia, we
love you and want to come back,'" Avidzba says. "But unfortunately, [in
Abkhazia] they hear something completely different [about Georgians]."
Avidzba
says she harbors no illusions that such gestures of reconciliation can
overcome the deep animosity Abkhaz feel for Georgians, but she is
nevertheless determined to persevere.
"I don't know whether it
was due to a lack of strength, or euphoria [over independence], but
nobody was able to stand up and prevent what has happened," Avidzba
says.
"Time is not on our side. A new generation is growing up
[in Abkhazia] that has never seen a Georgian and doesn't know what
they're really like. For them, a Georgian is simply an enemy."
http://www.rferl.org/articleprintview/1760884.html
