On October 5th, 2009 Jumberi Chkuaseli passed away at his home in Tsitelmta, Georgia at the age of 68. Jumberi was a friend of OLEG and like a grandfather to me even though I only knew him for two short months. Jumberi embodied the hospitality of the Gurian soul (Guria is a region in west Georgia) . As a famous Georgian folk singer, Jumberi traveled the world sharing the culture and heritage of his motherland. He sang with the famous Georgian National folk ensemble (now called Erisioni) for years. I first met Jumberi as I walked up to his home, a home that his ancestors built over 250 years ago and still stands today. The day before our coordinator and friend Lika Megreladze had requested that Jumberi teach our group of Americans to sing Georgian folk songs. A small group of us went to meet him in Guria in June before our large group of 14 came in August. He quickly took us in, sat us around a table and started to teach us "Suliko".

Jumberi comes from a long line of singers. Georgia is known for its folk polyphony, which is centuries old and usually comes in three voices, but in Georgia, Guria is known for its musical tradition and is considered the most developed. Guria is the only Georgian region to produce four part polyphony. Just down the road from Jumberi's house sits a church atop of a mountain that developed and preserved Georgian church polyphony in the middle-ages. For centuries and centuries the songs of Georgians have been passed down through an oral tradition, all students learn songs by ear. Most songs have never been notated and even those that have are rarely used in teaching and are considered inadequate. Though this tradition prohibits the proliferation of Georgian music to other ensembles, it preserves many other things.  How do you notate character? How do you notate personality? Personality and individuality are at the soul of Georgian folk music. There are countless variations and each singer makes their mark which they then pass down to whoever they teach.

With a lifetime of experience and the tradition of his ancestors and a nation behind him, Jumberi sat down to teach a group of Americans interested in his culture. A bass, Jumberi would sing out all the parts from soprano to bass for us countless times as each of us repeated our appropriate part. One of the gifts of a St. John's College education is that all are required to sing and study music no matter our previous experience. Spurred on by excitement we picked up our first song. Jumberi for some reason fell in love with us and us with him. It was a stormy night and as we sang over the howling wind, the power went out, but we kept on singing. Before we knew it four hours had passed. That would be one of four four hour practices with Jumberi.

Before coming to Georgia a few of us had tracked down that rare notation of Georgian songs and tried to learn a few of our favorites. Jumberi took our poor understanding of these songs and molded them, adding variations and character and making them into something of which we could be proud. As our practice ended Jumberi, of course brought us into his kitchen where he would not let us go with out eating some cheese, bread and drinking some wine. At that time, Jumberi's wife was away. In Georgia men often do not spend much time in the kitchen. I still remember how I chuckled and my love  for Jumberi grew as he fumbled around the kitchen to find food for us. At his table, we drank toasts together. Jumberi gave thanks to each of our guardian angels and particularly his who had watched over him last year. Just the year before, Jumberi's heart had stopped beating and he had been clinically dead, when all of a sudden he was resuscitated and made a recovery and therefore was able to be with us. It was then that I first became aware of the gift that Jumberi was giving to us.

The next time we came to Jumberi's house to practice we took a short detour. Jumberi lead us out to some small holes in the ground in his yard. He removed their covers, took a hollowed out gourd, reached down and pulled out wine. As we stood around and he filled our glasses, he explained that under the ground were buried huge clay jars (amphorae-like) that held hundreds of liters of wine. These amphorae-like jars, over 200 years old, had been installed when the house was built and have been filled with wine ever since. He now offered us his own wine that was kept safe in those very same jars brought by his ancestors. We proceeded to give thanks to each other; us to Jumberi for his skill, hospitality and warmth, and Jumberi to us for our excitement and enthusiasm. As we drank that wine we sang the songs Jumberi had taught us the days before, by then we had four. There is a long tradition in Georgia of singing by the amphori and even singing to the wine; it is believed to be good for it. So we sang for the health of the wine and partly for practice.

Jumberi did not want to waste a moment. He would say "When you are in America you wont have me. So you have to learn to sing together." Some of our practices we struggled with each other, but in the end Jumberi stuck with us. In just three and a half days we had learned five songs of which we could be proud.

On our car and train rides back to Tbilisi, we practiced our songs, helping each other to remember our parts, and searching through our little black notebook to remember forgotten words. The rest of our OLEG members, all totaling 14, met us soon after in Tbilisi. Our time outside of classes was permeated with song. Our group was already full of music lovers, but we brought to them the songs and the legend of our teacher Jumberi.

Along our way we found another music teacher Zura, who deserves all the praise of his own. Zura brought our group together in Tbilisi and taught us new songs.  Although from a younger generation, I discovered that Zura had sang with Jumberi professionally and knew him well. So when it came time to bring our group to Guria to meet Jumberi and learn about rural Georgian culture I invited Zura to come for a supra (a traditional feast) and surprise Jumberi.

With the great help of our hosts we prepared and hosted a feast at which we introduced our group to Jumberi and reunited Jumberi and Zura. I will never forget how we toasted and sang old songs, presented our new ones and learned ones together. Here at this feast Jumberi was kind enough to teach us one of my favorite songs called "Mival Guriashi." The first verse roughly translates to "I am going the Guria, but my soul has gone ahead of me, I chased it and it wouldn't come back nor take a bribe" This song captures the love of ones land and particularly the humor and love of the land of Guria, which Jumberi himself embodied and cherished.

The supra ended while the blackness of night surrounded us. It came time for Jumberi to leave. I offered to walk him home, a good sign of hospitality in Guria, but quite unnecessary because Jumberi only lived a few houses down. The secret was I just wanted to spend more time with him even though I could barely speak Georgian. Tim, a true music lover, accompanied us and he kept my secret as I kept his. We reached Jumberi's gate and he instinctively invited us in. It would have been more polite to say no, he must have been tired, but instead I said yes. Now he would have to feed us and offer us a drink and be with us, not because we needed it, but because that is what it meant to be a good host to him.

Jumberi's brother is the director of the world-renowned Erisioni ensemble and lives next door to Jumberi. That night a good friend and star from the Erisioni show was visiting Jumberi and his brother. To our surprise we found him in Jumberi's house when we arrived. We sat down quietly and listened. Barely able to communicate, Jumberi told his friend about our newly learned song, Mival Guriashi and encouraged us to sing it. We all sang together well even though Tim and I struggled at parts. We stayed for about an hour more in that home. We sat as various children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of that hearth sat, played, and talked all while Jumberi and his friend sang song after song with their immense voices.

I spent more times with Jumberi, but none more precious than that night. I spent the night with those who can put on spectacular professional shows of Georgian song and dance, but that night was not a show, it was pure character. No one will ever sing exactly like Jumberi, he was his own voice. That night he sang with us and his friend because that's what they do. So simple, full and pure. For me, he was Guria, he was Qartveli.

Jumberi I miss you, I am proud of you, I love you and I am grateful to you. May you always be in light (miagebot).