Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

controversial man, was surely under surveillance by the Russian Okhrana and one could not trust the ears of one’spersonnel."Deda, who is Persephone?" Alexandra asked suddenly.Deda stopped stirring the walnut paste and caught by surprised looked at her daughter. Alexandra confessed thatKonrad had been invited by Henri to a sema in Shavnabada, and she had accompanied him."Persephone was very civilized to Konrad and me. I had pictured her an evil witch with piercing eyes and long hair,casting spells on people." She laughed. "I noticed nothing of that. She was exceptionally kind."Deda pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes. "Persephone is an extraordinary person. Her mother wasGreek, her father a Syrian precious-stone cutter. She grew up in the house of her Greek grandfather, who was asuccessful merchant in Batumi."She took a bottle of vinegar from a shelf, added a teaspoon to the walnut paste, and tasted it. "Her father was a memberof the Halveji brotherhood. He taught Persephone how to grind and polish precious stones, and introduced her to theHalveji. A woman cutting stones and entering a Sufi brotherhood was unusual twenty years ago. It is no longer."Deda finished stirring the farce, chopped a bunch of cilantro, sprinkled it over the puree, and handed the bowl toAlexandra."As Persephone got older, she discovered that she had a gift for healing. She followed a man to Tiflis, but theirrelationship fell apart. She became widely known as a healer. Being a woman of sharp judgment and possessing asensitivity that far exceeded that of the men in the Halveji Brotherhood in the Bazaar, they elected her their sheikh. I mether through Henri many years ago, and she has become one of my closest friends."Deda had folded her arms. She looked thoughtfully at her daughter and asked. "Does this answer your question?Because beyond these bare facts, I find it difficult to explain this woman to you. Maybe one day you will get to know herbetter and learn more about her. When she acts as our sheikh, we call her Brimo. You see, Brimo was the ancient,sacred name of Persephone, the daughter of the Greek goddess Demeter."Alexandra stopped her work, tilted her head, and quizzically looked at her mother. "Are you a member of the Halveji andparticipate in their dances?""We don’t like to talk about these things, but you can find out yourself, my child, if you are interested. You will always bewelcome in Shavnabada."When Ilia and Olga arrived late at night, Alexandra received them at the door. They embraced. Ilia, a short man with around head, wispy hair, and a splendid handlebar mustache peered into the dark hallway and anxiously asked whetherthey had let their staff go for the night.Deda appeared and lovingly embraced her old cousin Ilia. Olga Guramishvili, slightly taller than her husband, a few greystrands in her dark hair apologized. "Forgive us, Tamunia, we are late. Had we arrived during daylight hours, half of Tifliswould have stood singing patriotic songs in front of your door. The last thing we need. Did you read the article OnOccasion of Ilia Chavchavadze’s Return from Exile in yesterday’s issue of Iveria? The Russians may not be able to readGeorgian, but we received two death threats since yesterday—in Russian.""Let’s forget my worries tonight," pleaded Ilia with a short laugh making an effort to recover his usual, boisterous self. "Letus eat your good food, drink Irakli’s wine, and be happy that I once more returned alive to my beloved but sadMotherland." He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a fat, German, mail order catalogue and two fashion magazinesfrom France and Italy. "Alexandra, I hear your are getting married. I brought you something."Alexandra thanked him and eagerly snatched the journals out of his hand. They were still standing in the foyer whenIrakli and Konrad joined them.Alexandra put her arm in Konrad’s and with a sweet smile presented him to Ilia. "May I introduce my fiancé, professorKonrad Rost from Berlin and St. Petersburg—Ilia Chavchavadze, poet, politician, and revolutionary, but above all myvery preferred uncle."Ilia sized up Konrad with a trace of easy mockery in his eyes. "Professor Rost, are you worthy of this exceptionaldaughter of our beautiful land? We don’t give away our young women lightly to foreigners."Alexandra stepped forward, as if to protect Konrad. "Ilia, this man is a unique person, and I love him."Ilia smiled indulgently. "I see, your love makes him special?"They moved into the living room, Irakli poured each a glass of wine and welcomed Ilia, "To our Georgian hero, poet, andsecond brother-in-law, many happy returns to the Motherland!""Ah, you fat Mingrelian landowners," exclaimed Ilia sarcastically in Georgian. "You sit at home on your rich estates, growtea, take the money from these northern barbarians, and care a hoot of what happens to this land of the Georgians. Haveyou forgotten your mother tongue?""Please, let’s speak Russian," pleaded Irakli. "And if you cannot stand Russian, speak German. Konrad can recite hiswedding vows in Georgian but not much else, and he certainly will not understand your complicated Georgian politics."Konrad raised his glass to Irakli and Ilia. "Dear mamebi zakartvelis, fathers of Georgia, you belittle my intelligence!" andbegan to sing the first stanza of one of Ilia’s heroically patriotic songs in Georgian. He laughed. "That is as far as I havecome! Next week Alexandra will teach me the second stanza!"30