Far from home, exiles gather for language classes, movies, games, or just to chat. But their refuge faces a cloudy future.
When in the center of bustling Tbilisi you want to find a place to relax and feel at home, Belarusians know to head to Kropka. Not just a meeting space, it’s an oasis in the heart of the historic Sololaki neighborhood.
Behind exquisitely carved, old wooden doors in a residential building built around a courtyard, visitors are greeted by an atmosphere of coziness and hospitality. It’s a spacious apartment with cozy corners for talking and working and a shelf full of Belarusian books. Strangers quickly become friends here: it only takes a couple of minutes for someone to come up and introduce themselves.
Far From Home, in Search of the Familiar
The idea to create Kropka took shape when several Belarusian activists who fled the crackdown on dissidents came to Georgia seeking a freer environment.
“In 2022, there was no Belarusian space in Tbilisi, and they conceived Kropka as a coworking space for Belarusian activists,” says Olga, Kropka’s manager (her name, as well as others in this story have been changed to protect family members back home in Belarus from repercussions).
The severe repression meted out to anyone seen as critical of the regime after the disputed reelection of Alyaksandr Lukashenka in 2020 sent many thousands of Belarusians fleeing for safety. Many made new homes in Poland; Vilnius and Tbilisi also took in thousands of exiles.
“Then, soon after Kropka opened, it became clear that Belarusians needed not just a workspace, but a place for meetings and events,” Olga continues. She took over the day-to-day operations so the activists whose idea led to the opening of Kropka could focus on their work with an organization that continues to operate in Belarus.
Kropka soon became a space for networking, movie screenings, board games, and language classes – a place “where everyone can find something to their liking,” Olga says.
For many of Kropka’s regular visitors, it’s the language spoken there that keeps them coming back. Forced emigration and the need to start life from scratch cause a lot of stress. Belarusian exiles naturally seek solace through their native language – even though many hardly spoke it back home.
“The explanation is obvious: in a foreign environment, the psyche demands something familiar in compensation,” explains Pyotr, a psychologist who fled political persecution to Georgia in 2021.
“Just as elephants huddle together in a circle at the moment of danger, so emigrants in a new land tend to meet, socialize, and support each other. This is a natural strategy for coping with stress, seen in history among Jews in exile, Russian Old Believers in South America, and European migrants in the New World “People on dating apps filter nationalities, preferring their own. This is an important part of socialization and adaptation in conditions of uncertainty and difficult life choices.”
Working and Socializing Together
Kropka (“Point”) opened its doors in March 2022, and the first public event, held two months later, was a big success: Belarusian actor Aleksandr Zhdanovich, aka Malyavanych – host of the popular children’s TV show Kalykhanka for 20 years – read his poems to the audience.
Olga, together with fellow Belarusian activist Viktoria, are Kropka’s only staff. Viktoria handles administrative duties and receives a salary from donor organizations. Olga is a volunteer, active also in other projects in aid of Belarusians at home and abroad.
“Conversation clubs in Belarusian, English, and Georgian; board games in Belarusian; and watching movies in our native language, as well as psychological support groups, art therapy, and literary meetings are especially popular among our visitors,” Viktoria says.
Since opening, the space has hosted more than 700 events, with 5,000-plus visitors – most organized by local Belarusians with help from Olga and Viktoria when needed. Though there is much going on in the two-room space with a courtyard, this is an ordinary apartment in a residential building and that imposes its limitations – on events involving dancing, for example.
“The noise was disturbing the neighbors,” says Olga. “And with them in general it is better to be friends and seek mutual understanding. We always treat our neighbors to food if we hold any events in the patio, like handicraft fairs, for instance. This has helped us to establish more cordial relations with them.”
Almost as soon as Anastasia, a pediatrician back in Belarus, arrived in Tbilisi – in the same month that Kropka opened – she began organizing screenings of Belarusian movies. Then she took up board games, and recently started leading treasure hunts around the city.
“Right after moving here, I started looking for [online] chat rooms and got to know the Belarusian community through events and meetings. It may seem that this task is not of paramount importance, because when you move, the first thing you need to do is to find a place to live, and put your children in school or kindergarten,” says Anastasia, who is now studying IT.
Only then can you think about a social life, she remarks. “But it takes a lot of energy to establish a life in a new place, and Belarusian events are exactly what gave me the energy to do all this at first,” she says.
Another volunteer, Nastya, only recently joined Kropka, learning about it by chance on a Belarusian expatriate blog on Telegram, the social messaging site. After coming to Georgia she decided to speak Belarusian exclusively and was looking for a place to practice the language. When she read about a book swap at Kropka, she dropped in with one by beloved Belarusian poet Yanka Kupala, got interested, and started coming back.
Before long, she started hosting literary discussions.
“I talked about books with other visitors so much and with such fervor that the managers of Kropka quickly noticed it and offered to let me hold literary meetings. I don’t think I would have decided to do it myself, but they saw potential in me and led me by the hand through the process of organizing events,” Nastya recalls.
After several gatherings, she met and became friends with one of the participants and together they created the Belarusian-language cultural and entertainment podcast Umounyja.
“Kropka is not only a physical space but also an opportunity to develop and grow,” Nastya says.
A Common Language
All are welcome at Kropka, but it helps to know Belarusian, a language spoken less commonly in Belarus itself than Russian.
“Since we are targeting Belarusians, we simply translated all our social network accounts into the Belarusian language and published all our announcements in it – which turned out to be a kind of language filter. But at the same time, we don’t discriminate based on language. There is no such thing that you have to speak Belarusian,” Olga explains.
If the managers of the space see that a person is disrespectful – for example, by saying something discriminatory but more out of ignorance than with deliberate intent to cause offense – they calmly explain what the problem is and ask them not to do it again.
When she and Viktoria receive a request to hold an event, they try to make sure it abides by Kropka’s non-discriminatory, inclusive values.
“The main thing is that the event should be suitable in format and content. For example, we don’t do political, religious, or esoteric events at all. And so any event can have our values and educational elements added to it. For example, at a book club, you can discuss a book about gender equality, and in an embroidery class, you can listen to a lecture about women’s health,” Olga explains.
All events and use of the coworking space are free of charge, and those who wish can leave a donation. It costs money to run Kropka, of course, but grants from international foundations cover around two-thirds of the cost of rent, materials for events, and refreshments.
“We could not get by on donations alone,” Viktoria says. “Unfortunately, many Belarusians in Georgia are not in a very stable financial situation, so they cannot support us regularly.”
Keeping Out of Harm’s Way
Although it operates in the open, Kropka keeps clear of interactions with Georgian authorities, especially since the adoption of a “foreign agent law“ modeled on the legislation used to keep Russian media and civil society on a tight leash.
The law “requires organizations that receive foreign funding to register as ‘foreign agents,’ which subjects them to strict oversight and stigmatization, limiting the freedom and work of civil society,” says Natalia Ryabova, a sociologist who came to Georgia when her organization, the School of Young Managers in Public Administration (Sympa), was declared extremist in Belarus.
Georgian authorities have so far shown little interest in Kropka’s activities.
“Kropka tries not to attract unnecessary attention and the main help from the Georgian authorities is simply not to touch us,” Viktoria says.
In 2023, 3,557 Belarusians immigrated to Georgia, bringing the number for the years 2021–2023 to around 18,500, most of them people seeking a less repressive place to live. But that same year, 4,500 left the country, a trend Ryabova says indicates that more and more Belarusians are seeking new homes in Europe.
“The main reason for leaving Georgia is passport restrictions. None of the Belarusians managed to get political asylum, and because of the expiration of their passports and the impossibility to return to Belarus, they are forced to seek asylum in Poland or Lithuania,” the sociologist remarks.
Nor does the security agreement that allows Minsk to deploy security agents inside Georgia “contribute to a peaceful life” for expatriates, Ryabova remarks. The agreement was signed in 2016 but did not enter into force until 2021, as official repression of Belarusian dissidents mounted. Since then, concerns have risen over the Georgian government’s lack of support for Ukraine and authoritarian measures, which have led to a serious rift with the EU.
In such a complicated political atmosphere, it’s difficult to make long-term plans. Yet Kropka’s regulars are full of praise for the way a strong and friendly community formed from its modest beginnings, even as they foresee challenges ahead.
“I am sure that even if Kropka ceases to exist, [Olga and Viktoria] managed to light a fire in us, teach us a lot, and unite us,” says Anastasia. “They offered not just a place, but the ability to organize events independently, and gave us confidence in our abilities.”
…
Tanya Hendzel is a freelance journalist specializing in environmental and social topics. Originally from Belarus, she is currently living in Belgium.
