There are a lot of words that I know I will never learn in this language. Words that are so unlikely to be used on a day-to-day basis that my brain keeps no compartment open for them.

One of these words is “earthquake.” Or, at least, it was.

As has been widely reported here and elsewhere, yesterday we had a მიწისძვრა (mitsisdzvra) not too far from our town. I was standing in the back of a church with some of my co-workers in Vale, a nearby village up the hill from Akhaltsikhe.

-- A couple of my co-workers, outside the centuries-old church in Vale, pre-quake. --

The building rumbled. The chandelier swayed. I felt like I was in a herky-jerky elevator. Everyone looked at each other wide-eyed. The priest made a joke. And life went on.

I was in a church in Vale because yesterday was ნათლისღება (natlisgheba), or Baptism Day. My counterpart lives in Vale and invited me to hang out for the day. I didn’t go to the whole church service (which was over 3 hours long). I was there mostly for The Main Event:

Getting dunked in the river.

More accurately, I was there to watch my co-workers and many others get dunked in the river. This “baptism” is an annual tradition for faithful believers and, it seems, crazy people. Children in swim trunks, old men in tight white underwear, and middle-aged women wearing shirts saying “Curves By Nature” all were subject to the Hand of God (well, the priest), forcefully ramming their head into the icy cold waters once, twice, thrice. People also fill water bottles with the newly baptized “holy water” and take it back to their homes to use throughout the year.

-- The procession down to the river. --

-- Blessing the river. --

-- Dato, waiting his turn. --

-- Getting closer... --

-- One down, one to go. --

-- Newly baptized. --

-- Jaba didn't get in the water but helped out in his own way. --

-- The Holy Father of Vale --

The holiday ended as many here do — with a celebratory supra, this one at my counterpart’s house. Khinkali were rolled, wine was poured, toasts were made and a good time was had by all, including me.

-- Warm, dry and full. --

By 6:00, we were all packed liked sardines into some guy’s car because the bus that was supposed to show up never showed up, rolling back down the hill to Akhaltsikhe below.