Lärm und so weiter...

Here I am continuing the story of my deafening first night in Tbilisi.

The next morning, the prayers started again early in the morning. I have a very personal relationship with this beautiful 'Allaaaaaaaaaaaahu akbar', but it didn't come. It was a kind of sermon. I still wondered how many people here visited the mosque and had to stand in the alleyway. When I set out to explore the city at noon, it suddenly became clear to me: it must be an Islamic holiday, because there were also many well-dressed women and children there, and food packages were being distributed from a car. Everyone took their package and went home. An old woman sat on a small staircase next to the mosque and enjoyed eating everything right there. The image touched me deeply. It was palpable that she rarely gets such a meal.

The constant question of rich and poor. I am from one of the richest countries in the world, and here are people for whom a simple meal from an aluminum foil tray is a feast.

It's not about feeling guilty, but about knowledge. Knowledge that the majority of people are economically in the shadow or shade, not in the sun like me. Knowledge that all my opportunities are gifts, exceptions rather than the rule. Knowledge that the goods are distributed unfairly and that we can do little, but still something. Just by what we support or reject.

And it's about gratitude.

By the way - since then it has been absolutely quiet and I already wonder where the believers have gone?