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For most of my life, I’ve been renting apartments. And I tell you, I get the overwhelming feeling that I’m just peeing into the wind. Wouldn’t buying be so much better? Outside of the bank's cut, you can probably make the majority of the money that you spend back, even after the maintenance and other unexpected costs that crop up. With renting, you get nothing back. And depending on what kind of landlords you get, you might still be paying for all that maintenance anyway. And also, as we’re not even going to be living in Tbilisi for a long period of time, it means we can rent out the place, and then come back and move back into our own house. So many points on the list that make buying such a better option. So we decided to buy.

But man, are there some issues when buying in another country, especially one like Georgia, where on the cultural spectrum of preferences towards organization, it tends to be on the extreme side of preferring to blow up in a wildfire of craziness against anything that might be considered to be a “plan”. The word itself is anathema in Georgian culture, likely to get you thrown out and fed to the jackals.

tbilisi

view from our balcony

We decided to come about three months before moving to Georgia to find a place. So we looked online and made a huge list of houses we’d like to see. Some helpful sites to those thinking of the move: www.saxli.ge, www.myhome.ge.

Of course, they’re not entirely that helpful, as we found out. Many of the current listings had been sold long before, and many of the realtors of listings that weren’t sold simply weren’t interested in working. We’d try to make appointments for when we were in town, and most of the time we’d just get the response, “Just call me on the day you can see the place and we’ll meet.” Then we’d call and they’d be busy, or simply not answer the phone, or always my favorite, the place would have already been sold.

It wasn’t going well.

Then finally, my wife’s mom knew a guy who was a realtor (most thing's in Georgia operate on the "I know a guy" basis). Let’s call him Aveji. Aveji showed us to this pretty nice place that was near a metro only a few stops from the Old Town. That sounded great. The place looked great, and perched up on the 9th floor as it was gave an amazing view of the surrounding cityscape. The apartment also came fully furnished, minus the dining room table and refrigerator, so it would be pretty easy to move in and we could make adjustments over time.

a view from our living room, Sameba on the left

We went for it. It wasn’t in the middle of the city, which I love to be in, but it was close enough, no big deal. Later when we are rich from my extravagant book sales (mom is going to have to buy a lot of my books) we can get something in the middle of the city (why we didn’t choose the center was fairly simple: most places are in various states of disrepair, and would take a lot of TLC to revive, and that consisted of both time and money we didn’t really have, and on top of that there's a whole slate of property speculation going on right now, with the in-flux of tourists, Airbnb, and so on).

There's also the huge privilege you get with being an American. As soon as they find out, they smell money. "I give you apartment for 30k, oh you American? I make good deal for you, 50k! No? 60k? It is best deal in city!" And folks, I'm po, so the whole American privilege thing really means nothing.

50k? In there? No thanks.

As for new buildings in the city... that is an option and we looked at them. But for the most part, new buildings look unfinished, unlandscaped, and already on the edge of falling apart before they're even completed. Soviet blocks, in many instances, are still in far better condition then these scam throw-ups. There are a few exceptions to this, as we found m2, Archi, and Maqro all offering good projects. They're just expensive. Like America prices. And frankly, I'm not sure how locals are affording those places.

The process in Georgia is that the bank then goes in and looks at the house, assesses the value, and then you can make an offer. So we made an offer, which was pretty generous, and they accepted it. But as we were in town for only a couple of weeks, that meant the wife’s family had to deal with the closing details. The previous owners then mentioned that they were going to take the washing machine too. Whatever.

looking another direction from the living room

After everything was said and signed, my wife’s brother went to the apartment to check on their progress moving out. Of all the things they said they’d leave, here were some of the things missing:

1. Oven/stove

2. Piano

3. 2 couches

4. A wardrobe

And then the previous owner was saying that she was going to come and take the washing machine and a built-in wardrobe.

That was enough. We called her brother, “Change the locks. She’s had enough time.” Then with my wife’s help, I sent a stern message to the lady, telling her that we were going to keep those last two items, as she broke our trust taking some of the items that she said she was leaving.

She replied, “But that stove was a gift! It had sentimental value! Same with the couches!”

Sentimental value? A stove?!

In which, we basically but more politely responded, “Look lady, you should have mentioned that before. The reason we gave you the generous offer was that Aveji told us there’d be furniture in the place, and even at the signing you agreed to it.”

Then she texted my wife, “Tell your American husband how things work in Georgia. People let others take their things from their apartment.”

To which my wife replied, “He knows how things work, and that you’re trying to steal the things we agreed on. He likes and trusts Georgians, and we trusted you to keep your word.”

Though perhaps that lady meant that I shouldn’t be so trusting of Georgians, I’m not precisely sure. My brother-in-law swapped the locks, so at least we’ve got a working washing machine. That was one less thing we had to buy.

But dang, it would have been nice to have that piano.

Here's a quick tour of the place, if anything it gives you a nice feel what those Soviet block apartments look like on the inside:

our living room

the bench is pretty typical of Soviet kitchens

the kitchen has a nice view too

the balcony has an unexplainable, unopenable window installed

the creation station

the crown jewel of the apartment: the shower mural


I know I’ve been a bit silent with my blogs lately, but I’ve got a few good reasons.

A Facetious Guide to Prague

Firstly, I had to focus on writing my latest book, A Facetious Guide to Prague. I wanted to get it done before I left Prague, so I could double up my last party to work alongside a book release. A lot goes into writing a book by yourself, especially when you compound it with the tons of pictures and managing the layout. I was up day and night writing and writing, and up even longer trying to edit everything and put in the pictures, enlisting a team of my close family to help out.

Done in a rush like that, it’s impossible to get the editing done properly. I had to accept a margin of error. When the end product came, I saw that it was a larger than acceptable margin of error, but I had to run with it anyway. I’d sell the books for cost, so it wasn’t like it was a big cost anyway.

prague guide

stacked up at the book release party

Don’t worry, on my latest editions, I’ve cleaned up all that editing. The pictures and layout look great now on the print edition, and on the Kindle edition, I’ve got it packed full of really useful (links to) maps.

I also learned two things about CreateSpace. When you’re in America, it might be good to go through CreateSpace to get your additional copies for sale. But if you’re in Europe, and if you’re a member of Amazon Prime, then it might just be better to order through Amazon and take advantage of the free shipping. Depending on what you’re planning on reselling it for, you could get a huge cost advantage.

The books looked good. The cover was great, and the pictures all came out well. So we were ready for the party.

It went well, I’d have to say, though also a bit bittersweet.

We held the party at Brix Hostel and Bar in Zizkov. It was a bit of a strategic decision, both since being a hostel bar, it tends to be emptier than regular places and thus more easily fit my guests, but also being a hostel meant that it would have access to a lot of tourists. The idea definitely worked on the tourist part, and I sold most of the books I had ordered in advance. The part that failed was that a lot of the people who I was hoping to come, to see one last time, didn’t.

a facetious guide to prague

talking about the book

I used my typical format for a book release. I’d start doing a solo set, then do some reading (though not really this time, as I didn’t want it too over-the-top being a book release, as it was also a going away party and I’m sure the Prague residents couldn’t give a damn about a Prague guide book), then full band with Prague's best Irish band, Cupla Focal, then talk more about the book, then full band, then close. Naturally, I’d break in between the sets and sell and sign books. Ideally if you had a willing volunteer, you’d have someone manning the sales desk, and then you’d just have to sign and not worry about cash, but I’m always short that willing volunteer, so I just do it myself. Not a big deal when dealing with the measly quantities of books that I can ever hope to sell.

cupla focal

Prague's best Irish band, Cupla Focal

But whatever. I enjoy being asked for a book to purchase, then to sign it. It makes me feel like a real writer, and not the hack that I actually am. And even more, it was great playing one last time with my friends. I'll miss those lads!

The Going Away

No more beautiful Prague. It was time to move back to Tbilisi.

tbilisi

a view of Ryke Park and Avlabari

Though I’m American, I have a long history with Tbilisi and Georgia, one that started almost ten years ago with Peace Corps, and then I fell into the trap of loving the country and traveling and having a weird Bohemian lifestyle and not really wanting to go back to the quaint and boring American life (don’t get me wrong, that life isn’t necessarily bad, and the more I suffer 100 degrees without air conditioning I’ve got to wonder about my life choices, but really, it’s not a life for me, at least not yet). I met my wife in a smokey little “art bar” in Tbilisi, where I used to play accordion, and as she’s Georgian as well, we’re kind of eternally connected to the place, for better or worse. I hope for the better, but the city seems to have a giant case of entropy, and no matter what improves, one wonders if it can keep up with the forces of chaos that seem to be tearing the city apart at its seams. A fun place, and definitely an interesting place. It is what it is and here we are.

it's not a bad place to end up

All that moving took some effort though. As we bought the place, it meant that we had to sort out the furniture, the random repairs, the unexpected surprises (no hot water in the kitchen?! And why is the balcony all glassed in? and the last owner made some weird color themes, red walls with red light fixtures, green walls with green light fixture, and so on, weird stuff). We painted the walls, figured out how to paint the walls (plaster isn’t quite as easy to roll as drywall, folks), found that we had to mix the colors and that mixing them again for a new bucket after running out of paint in one room was harder than it seemed. It’s all a bit slapdash, but it looks cool, and definitely better, cleaner, and fresher than before.

The Blog

Finally, I had to wonder what to do with my blog. Did I want to continue it? Was it really serving as a conduit to selling my books? I guess now that I have an actual travel book, and not some psychological horrors like Hunger and How It Ends, then maybe it will generate some leads to that. Or maybe if I unfocus this blog, write again more about personal things and observations (while still having travel), then it will do better. It will certainly be more entertaining to write.

I don’t know. What do you, possibly the only person reading this post, think?


Most of the Jewish Quarter was destroyed in the early 20th century to make it posh and Parisian, and in addition a bit more resilient to floods and fires. This is partly why you see the weirdly different ground levels between the synagogues and the other buildings, as the ground was actually raised when they rebuilt the area.

When they tore up the Jewish Quarter, they did so because it was derelict, overcrowded, and a huge firehazard. And before that time, Jews didn't have the freedom to live where they wanted. After the Edict of Tolerance by the Holy Roman Emperor, Joseph II, though, this changed and Jews were free to live outside the ghetto. That meant now the quarter could be restored and renovated.

random street in Josefov, the Jewish Quarter

They left the synagogues which are all still standing, active, and open for tourism. You can't get the feeling of the old, crowded, and poor ghetto that once was, but rather you can buy some super-expensive clothes, as all the top designers, including, ironically, Hugo Boss, have a storefront in this area now. Another weird fact is that the synagogues managed to survive WWII as Hitler had thought the district so nice, that he was going to use it as a huge "Jewish museum", to highlight his version of the history of the soon-to-be-eradicated people.

Here's a list of all the old buildings that still exist though and that you can take a look at. Also click here to see them all pinned on Google Maps.

The Jewish Town Hall

This was the main meeting point for the Jewish community and was built in 1586 by the mayor Mordechai Maisel, whose projects created a "golden age" of Jewish life in Prague. The building is in the Renaissance style but had a Rococo makeover in the 1700s. It features two clocks: the top one with Roman numerals and the bottom one with Hebrew numerals (that is to say, Hebrew letters). It now serves as the main building of the Jewish Museum in Prague.

Jewish Town Hall Prague

the Old-New Synagogue next to the Town Hall

It might seem to blend in with the rest of the buildings nowadays, but back in the day of the ghetto, the town hall really stood out as a masterpiece of architecture. That said, the synagogues were obviously the more important buildings to the community. This one isn't open to look at, but you can see the clock tower.

Old-New Synagogue

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The synagogue with the most confusing name is the oldest one that still stands in Europe and has been active for more than 700 years. It was built by the same masons that worked on the St. Agnes Convent and was originally called the Great Shul or the New Shul (Great School or New School), and wasn't called the Old-New Shul until after the construction of later synagogues.

Old-New synagogue

the Old-New Synagogue

There are a ton of legends that surround the Old-New Synagogue. One has it that the synagogue was built from blocks of the Temple of Solomon, brought over by angels who carried it over all the way to Bohemia, by agreement that if the Temple were restored, they'd have to bring back the blocks. Another has it that the remains of the golem are stored in the attic.

Spanish Synagogue

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The Spanish Synagogue is the newest of the bunch, but ironically built on the site of the oldest synagogue in Prague, which was called the Old Shul. So perhaps it would be the better bearer of the name of the "old-new", but that's another story. The Old Shul was too small though, so they tore it down in 1867 and built a new one in the Moorish Revival style, hence why it's now called the "Spanish" Synagogue, even though it was first called the Geistgasse-Tempel, or the Temple on Spirit Street. Some people think it belongs to the Sephardic community, because of the Moorish style, but actually belongs to the Reform congregation, the Moorish style chosen just for its coolness and jazz.

Today it contains an exhibition on Jewish history in Czech lands, centered around the Emperor Joseph II, along with plenty of pictures of how the Jewish ghetto looked before it was torn down.

Pinkas Synagogue

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This is the second oldest synagogue in Prague, and it's pretty small and homely, as are its beginnings. In 1535, Aharon Meshulam Horowitz tore down his house and built a synagogue for his family. Like the other older buildings of this area, it was below (the new) ground level, and was thus flooded often. So in 1860, they raised the floor by 1.5 meters. But then they lowered it in the 1950s to be the original level, which was now lower than the street level, which had been raised in the early part of the century. Nothing is simple here. On the interior of the walls in the synagogue are inscribed the 78,000 Czech and Moravian Jewish victims of the Holocaust.

There is also an exhibition showing pictures drawn by the children of the ghetto in Terezin. In the day, Terezin was used as a propaganda mill for the Nazis. They arranged pictures of Jews doing sports, looking happy, and living comfortably, so that Jews and the rest of the world wouldn't suspect the dark truth of what was really happening. There was some resistance to this though, as one art teacher there, Friedl Dicker-Brandeis, decided to tell his students to paint the truth. Dicker-Brandeis and most of his students would later die in Auschwitz.

Maisel Synagogue

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The synagogue was built during the golden age of the ghetto in the 16th century. It's called "Maisel", because it was the private synagogue of the mayor, Mordecai Maisel, who had ordered its construction (the same guy who had overseen the building of the Town Hall). The synagogue that's standing now isn't the original one though, as it has burned down several times in its history.

Maisel Synagogue

the Maisel Synagogue

The synagogue houses an exhibition about Jews in Bohemia, with computer screens that show maps of different Jewish settlements and famous Jews from the area.

Klausen Synagogue

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The largest synagogue in Josefov, the Klausen was built on the remains of an earlier synagogue complex that was destroyed in a fire in 1689. It's right next to the cemetery and offers a score of beautiful architectural motifs, especially Jewish Baroque. The complex that was there before had been built by Mordecai Maisel and included several synagogues and a Talmudic school (they were called the Klausen, hence the German plural).

Klausen Synagogue down the Jewish Souvenir Street

It now contains an exhibition on Jewish Customs and Traditions, teaching about the Tanakh and the Talmud, along with an unfurled Torah scroll and different ornaments used during Jewish services.

The Old Jewish Cemetery

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The Old Jewish Cemetery, a quiet and peaceful place tucked away in the otherwise chaotic and crowded Prague, is one of the oldest Jewish burial grounds in the world and regularly makes the top ten best cemeteries lists on National Geographic and Buzzfeed (what a list). It dates from the 1500s–which is considering the history of the Jewish people in general, not really that old. The area isn't that big, and considering that during the height of the ghetto there were over 18,000 people living in the neighborhood, means that bodies had to be buried on top of each other, some graves going more than 10 bodies deep. There are 12,000 tombstones crammed into the location, and them running out of space there was partly what led the Jewish community to team up with their Christian neighbors in the Old Town and New Town to buy up land over in Vinohrady and carve out space for another graveyard (part of which was later destroyed by the Communists and used for Žižkov Tower).

the crowded and beautiful Jewish cemetary

At the entrance of the cemetery (which is on the far end from the Klausen Synagogue, from the 17. listopadu side), there's the old burial preparation building, which is now a Holocaust memorial.

I've only visited the cemetery so far (though I plan on visiting the other synagogues before leaving Prague) and I must say, though it is a unique and peaceful place, the sanctity of it is somewhat ruined by the combination of the steep price and the clear and un-obscure feeling that you're on a tourist track. There's even a definite path made of stone to guide the tourists through.

On a weird note, one of the neighboring buildings seems to have decided to make a long, Christian stained glass exhibition above the cemetery, as a final sticking it to the Jews from the Christian community.

Jerusalem Synagogue

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There's one more synagogue of note in the city center, though it's not remotely near Josefov. This stunning, Moorish Revival temple is situated on a quiet, out of the way street in New Town right between Henry's Tower and the train station. It's a weird mix of Moorish architecture with art nouveau color and glamour, making for a truly unique structure that jumps out at you in an otherwise gray part of town. It's so Moorish, in fact, when I first saw it I thought it was a mosque. But then upon noting the other details, the Hebrew writing and the Magen David on the window, I realized it was actually a synagogue.

It was originally called the Jubilee Synagogue and was built in 1906 in honor of the 25th anniversary (or silver jubilee) of the rule of Emperor Franz Joseph I (who had made a lot of reforms vastly improving the lives of Jews).

Since Franz Joseph got his butt handed to him on a silver platter in World War I, and the Czech lands gained their independence in the newly formed Czechoslovak Republic, they renamed the synagogue. It was no longer associated with that loser Austrian, but now with the capital of the Jewish homeland.

Many Jews would too soon learn to miss that old man.

This is all taken from my latest book, Facetious Guide to Prague. Read it and learn more about the Jewish history of Prague, along with everyone else's. Check it out here on Amazon.

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