20/11/2024
Unwavering purpose.
I was in the mountainous borderlands of far eastern Georgia, on the edge of Russia, last month.
This elderly woman and her aging son are the last Protectors of the Highlands in this part of the country. The Protectors have held the borders for 1,000 years against invaders, but the young generations are moving to the city or out into the bigger world.
They are the sole residents of an otherwise empty, crumbling and remote stone village, and their life's mission is to hold the border. When they're gone, the region will be considered unoccupied territory and the Russians can move the line.
They don't leave their tiny home in the winter; they're quite literally snowed in for months at a time, living on stockpiled food and water, with just each other for company.
But they refuse to move. Their role as Protector, passed down through generations, is passionately held.
She eagerly agreed to allow me, the western foreigner, to photograph her. Through a translator, they told me -- "please take our story to the world. We're alone out here, and people need to know." Holding onto the Georgian identity and land is paramount.
I share because it needs to be shared. Because they're an inspiration. Because their unwavering commitment and sense of mission is so rare these days.
It got me thinking about holding the boundaries of identity, and being rooted and grounded in passion and purpose. Not flexing with popular trends, or people-pleasing, or just not feeling like it.