On a warm Friday night in April, I had good reason to distract my mind from the  ongoing political crisis in Georgia and I went to the farewell party of my Lebanese friend Elcy and her husband, Waleed. After spending six years in Georgia and even more in some other countries beforehand, they made the decision to go back to their homeland, despite the fact that the situation in Lebanon is currently tense due to the situation with Israel.

“You know, since I don’t feel safe anywhere, at least I’ll be around the people I know, and I will be able to speak my mother tongue freely,” he told me with a smile, yet you could easily see the sadness in her eyes.

When Elcy visited Tbilisi for the first time with her partner in 2013 for Christmas holidays, as she says, they fell in love with the city right away. After coming back here several times for short trips, in 2019 they decided to move here. Both of them work freelance, and the capital of Georgia felt ideal in terms of accessibility and geographical location - they were not too far from home, and the culture was not too dissimilar to theirs.

“Before we made our official move to Tbilisi, we came here for many holidays; we got to experience and know the people slowly. Our first impression was that the people of Georgia are rough, maybe even rude, but we came to realise that the roughness was just on the surface. I remember every taxi driver, every person we met; they all wanted us to taste their chacha and homemade wine and visit their village. Everyone was so proud of their roots, very hospitable and welcoming, and techno music was always playing everywhere; they called it revolution music. People were hopeful and looking towards the future.”

However, in her view, this atmosphere and spirit started to dramatically change in 2022: “After Covid and the Russian-Ukrainian war, things really changed in Georgia; people were not as welcoming to strangers anymore, and Tbilisi became tense.”

People from different countries who were living in Georgia for different reasons have told me before that it’s not easy to integrate with locals here. Of course, the language is the biggest barrier, but dealing with Georgian governmental institutions could be a bigger hassle: they treat you differently depending on where you are from – from the west, east, north or south. If you pass the “white Christian test”, everyone is most likely going to be nice to you. But the darker your skin color gets, the worse the attitude gets towards you. Russian citizens, whose country has a centuries-long history of imperial and colonial acts against Georgia, can freely cross the Georgian border if they are not openly anti-Putinist; however, every time Elcy and Waleed left Georgia for personal reasons, they were afraid that they could not come back.

“We faced a lot of scrutiny at the border each time we travelled back to Georgia: we were stopped and interrogated. We lived with the possibility of being turned around at the border after every trip; we know many people who were rejected at the border. It was a high risk to take”.

Even this kind of challenge did not stop them from trying to settle in Georgia, nonetheless, their enthusiasm was crushed by Georgia's prejudiced policies towards foreigners.

“The main reason we left Georgia in 2025, after 6 years of making it our home, was the government’s policies towards the people who are not from the West. We were able to get  residency in Georgia in 2020, but after that, each time we applied, despite meeting the criteria and more, we were rejected for “security reasons”. We never knew what security we were threatening. We had a company, we paid taxes, we employed Georgians, and we brought money from abroad. Our friends who also own homes and businesses were all rejected for the same reason, and there was nothing we could do about it.”

I've heard millions of times from people all over the world about how much they love Georgia because for its food (juicy khinkali), nature (seaside and mountains), people (almost sacred tradition of hospitality), culture (traditional dancing) or even club scene (Bassiani), but for the neighboring countries, Georgia has been more than just another affordable and exotic summer vacation destination. Georgia has gained the reputation of “the European state in the Caucasus region” over the last two decades. Because of this, oppressed people from Azerbaijan, Armenia and, most recently, Russia often searched for shelter here. These are the people who were, or still are, persecuted because of their sexuality, political activism or any other reason in their own countries.

Toros, who asked me to change his real identity, moved to Georgia two years ago from Armenia. I met him at one of my favorite restaurants, where he works as a waiter. He caught my attention with his almost perfect Georgian accent. He doesn't speak much Georgian, but when he does, it’s always charming.

“I moved here with my boyfriend,” he told me at our mutual friend’s birthday party. “I know it is not heaven here for queer people, but trust me, it’s better than where I was living.”

Even though Toros and his boyfriend managed to rent a small flat in Tbilisi and they have been living together with a sense of safety for a while, things have lately changed. He admitted to me that he had not previously followed local political news, but that changed once his partner discovered online that the Georgian parliament passed an oppressive law targeting queer people. And they do not feel the same way anymore.

“Honestly, I’m just tired. First we moved to Yerevan from our small hometown because we wanted to be far from our families. Then we moved to Tbilisi because Yerevan was not so friendly either. And as soon as we started to feel at home here, everything became so unstable again. Where should we go now?”

Leila A, who also asked me to change her real name for her safety, lost her job because it was a project funded by the EU in Georgia. After the Georgian government passed the “foreign agent bill”, a lot of international funds were cut off. Two years ago Leila A got a scholarship to come from Azerbaijan to Tbilisi and study journalism. She even started working in her profession, but she does not see her future here anymore. She says that many of her Azerbaijani friends have already left Georgia within the past few months.

“Back then, Tbilisi was always the safe shelter to come to from Azerbaijan if you felt unsafe there, but now it’s not like that anymore.”

Before coming to Georgia, Leila A did not have any expectations so as to not get disappointed. For her, the ice was broken as soon as her Georgian housemate  gave her mchadi (traditional Georgian cornbread) and cheese as a welcome gesture, despite the fact that she did not speak English and Leila A did not understand Georgian or Russian. That’s how she started to get familiar with the local culture, but what was more unexpected here were the first encounters with Armenians.

“When I came here, the recent war in Karabakh was still fresh, and I met Armenians for the first time in my life. Tbilisi was the bridge for all of us. That’s where Armenians and Azerbaijanis tried to communicate; we went out for drinks, we partied together, and even we discussed very difficult topics, like the war, displacement, generational traumas, what we have done to each other, and how we ended up here. We had very different backgrounds but tried to find some common ground”.

Although she had never been an ardent nationalist or supporter of the war, she realised that she didn't know much about Armenians, and Tbilisi helped her to learn more about their perspective and vice versa. “ I met amazing Armenian people here that would have been impossible for me before. Tbilisi was a safe space for multicultural coexistence. I say it was because it does not feel the same anymore.”

One country’s success story always has an impact on the entire region. According to Leila A, simply knowing that there is a country next to yours that has managed to have relatively better conditions in terms of human rights, that their political system is more democratic, and that there is a safe environment, all without any gas or oil resources, allows you to maintain hope for a longer period of time, even if you live under a dictatorial regime like Azerbaijan.  However, one country's failure might also have a significant impact on its neighbors.

“If countries around us are less democratic, there will be less pressure against authoritarian countries like Azerbaijan. If it’s totally dark around you, you feel more hopeless.”

She never considered staying in Georgia forever, but she is now afraid that she has to leave the country earlier than expected. She is concerned about where she can feel safe because the far-right is on the rise practically everywhere. Besides, she feels sorry for Georgians who are still fighting back. Nevertheless, they are preparing for Plan B.

“It’s sad to see how my Georgian friends are preparing to move abroad: they are learning new languages, collecting all the necessary documents, etc., and you know, we have been through the same thing in Azerbaijan. Even when we are too young, people tell us that we should leave the country because hope for us is already gone. Now when I’m watching Georgians, it feels like I have seen it already.”

Georgia's political future is still uncertain. People have been protesting nonstop for nearly 200 days, marching in the streets, boycotting pro-government businesses, and using street art as a form of resistance. Artists such as directors, actors, writers and singers are going on strike or openly criticizing the government. However, the government is still imprisoning protesters and is announcing more oppressive laws, and the media and non-governmental organisations are on the verge of shutting down.  It is unclear whether anyone from neighboring countries would still seek shelter in Georgia because even many locals don’t feel safe here anymore.