LIVING ON THE EDGE
By Rezo Getiashvili
The Messenger, Georgia
April 20 2007
The village of Kasristskhali in the far Southeast of Kakheti is a
remote place by most standards: "Neither road nor transport, neither
newspaper nor mobile phone connection, neither the president nor the
regional administration head ever reaches our village. It seems we
do not even belong to this country", as one villager puts it. The
approximately 300 residents of the poorest village in southeastern
Georgia think that government and society simply forgot about their
existence – which is a shame, because it is here, along the lonely
border with Azerbaijan, where some of Georgia’s environmental problems
become a tangible reality of life.
Water Shortage
Kasristskhali lies in the semi-arid steppe belt, and hence was never
rich in water: "We have lots of water in this region, but only in
place names – Dedoplistskharo, Samtatskharo, Kasristskhali. Usually,
people inhabited places where they was water and named their villages
after springs. Kasristskhali [from the Georgian word kasri: barrel]
is an exception, however: Probably there was no water here and people
always got their water by barrels. Or the water here was always so
horrible that people compared it to water from a barrel. Today even
this dirty and salty water is something we desire. We have only two
small springs in the village", resident Edik Karadkov says.
Agronomist Shota Bekuradze adds: "We deserve the order of merit only
for the fact that we live in here and drink the local water. If you
take samples and analyze them, you’ll see that they would not meet
any standards."
As if the natural aridity of the area wasn’t serious enough a problem,
villagers now believe that they are feeling the effects of climate
change. "When I first came here, the winters were snowy and the snow
did not melt until there were spring flowers. I cannot tell you now
when there was snow last," village teacher Elmira Lalayian says.
Declining harvests
As a result of this, as well as unsustainable land use practices
(such as insufficient seed renewal), the land has lost productivity
and yields less and less harvest. "I have more than a hectare of
arable land, but so what," laments Shota Bekuradzet. "If I could get
three or four tons of wheat 15-20 years ago, now I dream of getting
even a single ton. Often the yield is as little as 300 kilograms."
The agronomist is aware that he has contributed to the crisis, but says
that poverty has forced him to do so: "The climate has also changed,
or to be more correct: We changed it. I’m also guilty of it.
But what can I do? If I am cold and cannot get other fuel, I will cut
the elm tree in my yard. I will defend my family like a wolf defends
its puppies, I’ll do everything."
Overgrazing
Besides growing wheat, livestock is the main traditional source of
income of Kasristskhali’s population. Nasti Duniamalieva’s family
has ten cows. However, in line with local tradition, this number is
usually played down when talking to outsiders. This tradition evolved
during the Soviet period. After the pastures were privatized in the
nineties, former local officials divided the land among themselves and
hired Azeri shepherds. Until today, shepherds often have more stock
than the owners of farm or pasture. Therefore, Nasti’s mother quickly
intervenes after we have asked her about the number of their cattle,
and adjusts their number from ten to three.
Overgrazing is a serious problem in these arid lands, as it can cause
irreversible land degradation. Practices like the one described above
make it difficult to determine the real amount of livestock in the
country. In neighboring Azerbaijan, it has been estimated that, while
the sustainable carrying capacity of the lands is somewhere around
three million head of cattle, their actual number may be about 24
million, or 800% of the carrying capacity.
Even if, possibly, the situation around Kasristskhali is not as bad,
overgrazing and land degradation will soon become a serious problem.
According to the third report of the Republic of Georgia to the UN
Convention to Combat Desertification, desertification is a "significant
ecological problem for Georgia", and Dedoplitskaro region, where
Kasritskhali is situated, is one of the worst affected.
Poor people – poor environmental conditions
All these environmental problems would be much easier to address
if the people of Kasristskhali had money, and alternative livelihood
options. However, the village is poor, and its remoteness doesn’t help:
"Here pregnant women deliver their babies on the road, and the ill
die there", says one villager. Now there is not even a first-aid
station and teachers serve as doctors in a place which once was a
medical resort.
"I am a teacher," says Elmira Lalayian "but I am running back and forth
checking blood pressure and administering medicines, self-taught. If
someone gets ill, I should run to the place where there is a telephone
connection, to call to the emergency service and ask them to bring
medicines. I have turned to folk medicine instead."
Georgians, Armenians, Azeris and Ossetians suffer side-by-side in
this village, and are proud of their solidarity. "I am originally
an Armenian from Karabakh, but I never felt a negative attitude from
the Azeris living in our village, even during the war," Lalayian says.
Broken dreams
Last autumn, representatives of Vashlovani National Park and foreign
experts visited Kasristskhali, bringing with them a new and quite
nebulous dream – tourism development. However, after months without
significant developments, the locals think that the tourism business
has turned its back on them, too.
"They came here with journalists and foreigners. They did not do
anything they promised. You should not promise what you cannot do. I
dreamed that Eldari will become nicer, there would be roads and
transport. But we have learnt that this dream was in vain. Soon we
will stop dreaming at all" says Lalayian.
The locals know very well that, at present, Kasristskhali is not
suitable for tourism. "I don’t think a foreigner will feel good in a
place where so many people feel bad," villager Nasti Duniamalieva says.
Edging towards depopulation
"Life became worse and people have started leaving the village.
People do not have jobs, the school is going to ruins. Time passes
and life becomes harder and harder. Food products which cost GEL 1
in the district centre cost GEL 3 here. Therefore many think that
it’s senseless to stay here, and leave to wherever they can. However,
I will continue my studies in Telavi and if there still is a village
existing afterwards, I will be back for sure." says Nasti Duniamalieva.
The shadow existence of this remote village is really a paradox,
because state interests suffer along with local people if it continues
to be deserted. Gela Khornauli, machine-operator, explains: "The
village protects the border better than border guards. They know it
well in Armenia, Azerbaijan, Russia and Turkey. What has happened to
us? The people are leaving and we give the border to others."
It is a certainly an act of patriotism that Kasristskhali has not
been fully deserted yet. However, it should be noted that many of
them simply have nowhere to go. Elmira Lalayian: "When I get from
Tbilisi to Chalaubani, I usually breathe a sigh of relieve. When
I pass Dedoplistskharo I am so happy, it fees like getting back to
paradise. However, it is turning to hell little by little. I love my
place, my land, I turned 18 here, lived my life here and now, should
I really think of leaving? However, if I had the chance to leave,
I would not stay a day."