"I am an ambassador," I've heard it echoed through the corridors of time, and it's a declaration I've proudly made myself. Even as a child, when I first embraced the role of Phoenix ambassador, I knew this was more than a mere profession—it was a calling. Today, as Natalie, a mother, tour guide, translator, and a doctoral candidate in literary studies, I have woven my life's work around this profound identity.
From the tender age of 14, the seeds of my future were sown. Driven by an innate desire to bridge cultures and people, I pursued my studies at the Faculty of Oriental Studies. It was one Christmas morning, amid the quiet contemplation of the holiday's magic, that I resolved to meld my extroverted nature and my passion for travel into a single, fulfilling career. Being a tour guide, I discovered, is not merely about leading tours; it's about embodying roles as diverse as motherhood and godfatherism, intertwined with elements of history, archeology, hospitality, and even astrophysics and horticulture.
Guiding is, at its core, a peculiar blend of teaching and learning, of giving and receiving simultaneously. In my first year alone, I encountered an average of 60 new faces each week—a kaleidoscope of individuals from every conceivable walk of life, from architects to supreme judges, from artists to engineers. Each encounter was a chance to expand my own horizons, to absorb and reflect the rich tapestry of human experience.
This profession is relentlessly demanding. Each day brings new questions, requiring answers that might encompass the intricate details of Svetitskhovli's murals or the nuanced grammar of the German language—learned in the breath of a moment to defuse the proverbial mine of ignorance. Yet, despite the exhaustion that comes with being perpetually on call, each query addressed enriches me, making me more than I was the day before.
At home, I am a mother; on the trail, I am a mother to all. Each morning, as I prepare for the day's journey, I remind myself of the gravitas of my role—not just for personal fulfillment but for the broader canvas of my country. The essence of good guiding is hospitality; to be a poor host is to fail not only the guests but the very spirit of the land I represent. My goal is to knit my group into a family, so that by the trip's end, strangers have become lifelong friends.
The deepest satisfaction comes not from applause, but from the return of a familiar face, eager to relive the magic. And when exhaustion takes hold, when personal sacrifices weigh heavily, I find solace in the vistas of my homeland—from the towering majesty of Mkinvartsveri to the serene blues of Javakheti. These landscapes remind me that Georgia, with its rich history and vibrant culture, merits the love and recognition I strive to cultivate.
In these moments of reflection, I see not just the beauty of Georgia but the imprint of my own contributions. I celebrate with my guests not just as a guide, but as a fellow reveler in Georgia's festive tapestry. And in this relentless pursuit, I find hope that my son will inherit a Georgia enriched by diversity and sustained by the love of those who cherish its heritage.
This is my story, a chronicle of dedication and passion. In the grand narrative of Georgia, I am but one voice, yet I speak with the conviction that my role as an ambassador is as crucial as any. Through the eyes of each visitor, I relive my homeland's story, and together, we weave a shared memory that transcends time and borders.
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