Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

Deep snow still covered Djvari Pass, the Pass of the Cross, the road a narrow, washed-out riverbed between snow wallsas tall as a man.Right and left sheep wandered single file across the snowfields, the low sun projecting a fantastic shadow play of animalsand riders onto the white hillsides.As the sun disappeared the temperature dropped rapidly to below freezing. The travelers huddled around the open fire inthe smoke-filled room of the hospice and warmed themselves with raki and tea. A miserable night. No privacy, they slepton the hard benches along the black walls under filthy blankets that smelled of grease, smoke, and sheep.Next morning the world was frozen. Braving the cold Konrad and Leist watched the sun rise from the balcony. Thehospice hung precariously at the edge of a valley. Thick fog boiled below. Wind-blown clouds drifted past the house.Occasionally they caught a glimpse of the high snowfields to the east. And then a sudden gust ripped the clouds awayand revealed a steep mountainside down which the road wound in precipitous hairpins to the bridge at Mleti.The wind stopped. A complete calm under a cold sun.The opposite slope of the valley was rutted by snow-filled, deeply eroded ravines, bare except for a shimmer of fresh,green, spring grass. At the bottom the ruins of an ancient watchtower rose from the fog. A few houses, gardens withblooming fruit trees. A thin, striated layer of clouds remained, hovering suspended halfway above the valley."If one were to take a photograph from here," Konrad observed, "one would immediately recognize the picture as taken inthe Caucasus. But why I couldn’t explain."Leist stroked his beard while he considered Konrad’s remark. "You are right, it is because we are at the border betweenthe arid northern slopes of the range and the green, fertile valleys to the south. The high, northern slopes are bare andlook, down there the orchards are blooming, and a few hours farther south they are raising two crops a year. Anotherphenomenon typical of the Caucasus are the sun-warmed inversion layers above the cold air in the valleys on whichthese unique cloud striations float.""Since yesterday," said Konrad, "I have the uncertain feeling that I have crossed the border of Europe.""Nonsense. You will see that the Georgians and their culture are more European than their most holy Christian protectorsto the north. Christianity and literacy came to Georgia five hundred years before anyone in Russia was able to recite thealphabet. The early Russian churches in Vladimir were built by craftsmen from Georgia in the eleventh century whilsthere the earliest churches date from the fifth century, older than any in Germany. No, Rost, the border of Europe is at theAraxes."Konrad smiled, pleased that he had succeeded in arousing his friend’s emotions despite the cold of the morning."Forgive my ignorance, Leist, it will soon be corrected!"The carriage rumbled down the steep bends in the road. Sometimes Konrad felt that only the thousands of sheep keptthe carriage from tumbling over the edge into the foaming Aragvi river. The Armenian lady, dizzy from looking into theprecipice, asked to exchange places with Leist.With every turn of the road it became warmer, and after a few hours they were rolling through thick deciduous woodscovering the Caucasian foothills. They passed increasingly luxuriant stands of dark rock oaks, light green beeches, andlater tall chestnuts and wild cherries. Touched by nostalgia Konrad remembered his hikes in his beloved southern BlackForest.They reached Tiflis after dark. With a congenial gesture and a laugh Leist said, "Rost, may I invite you to share myapartment. I like your company, and there is plenty of room for the two of us."Leist’s apartment was a simple but comfortable place on the second floor of a wooden house high above town on theslopes of Mount St. David. It had two rooms, a large kitchen, two spacious balconies, and an outhouse, but no bath."Oh, one doesn’t need that," said Leist with a dismissive sweep of his hand. "I will introduce you to the Turkish bath, it ismuch preferable to a zinc tub of hot water in the kitchen!"Next day Leist took Konrad to meet the professors at the Gymnasium. Konrad’s new colleagues were very relaxed. Theydiscussed his courses with him for an hour. He would give an introduction to chemistry and an upper-division seminardevoted to the botany of the Caucasian flora, eight hours a week. He had taught these courses before in St. Petersburg,and his students would be more docile than in the restless capital. There was no rush, the semester and his teachingduties wouldn’t begin for two weeks, until then he should take it easy and acquaint himself with the colorful life of Tiflis.However, the arrival of their new colleague from Berlin called for a celebration. The good professors decided to have agrand feast in Ortachala without their women. To their amusement, Leist wagged a finger at Konrad and smiledmysteriously. "This will be your Georgian entrance examination, Rost!"Life with Leist was casual. He made no special efforts to host Konrad; he gave him the guestroom and generally left himto himself.Often his host disappeared at night, only to resurface, rumpled and worn out in the morning, from some overnight exploit,which Leist did not elaborate on and Konrad never asked about. After these disappearances Leist slept through much ofthe day.Konrad ate out or prepared his own food in the kitchen, unless Leist scrambled up the hill carrying sacks of vegetables,walnuts, a chicken or some lamb, bottles of wine, and fruit for desert.9