Companies have adapted. Georgian businesses now hold “Zoom Shaurma breaks.” Universities conduct oral exams in Qartulad —meaning the professor and student spend the first ten minutes arguing about whose internet is worse.
Then there is the unspoken rule of the “Random Uncle.” Every Zoom Qartulad call has one participant who never speaks, keeps their camera off, but whose name is listed. Is he listening? Is he asleep? Is he even in the same country? No one asks. He is the digital ghost of every Georgian gathering—present but silent, holding a metaphorical glass of mineral water. From Crisis to Custom What makes Zoom Qartulad truly remarkable is how quickly it moved from a crisis tool to a cultural staple. Even as Georgia reopened, people kept Zooming.
But the soul of Zoom Qartulad remains stubbornly analog. It is not about the software. It is about the refusal to be silenced. In a world that pushes for efficiency, brevity, and mute buttons, Georgians have taken a cold corporate tool and injected it with warmth, wine, and wonderful, glorious noise.
Tech startups in Tbilisi are now working on a “Georgian Mode” for video conferencing: a button that automatically allows five people to speak at once, a chacha glass visual effect, and a “Supra Timer” that reminds you when it’s been 45 minutes since the last toast. zoom qartulad
Desperate, families and friends turned to a corporate video conferencing tool: Zoom.
So the next time you join a Zoom meeting and hear someone shout “Ra ginda, ara me munda?” (What do you want, I’m not muted?), don’t be annoyed. Be honored. You’ve just been invited to the digital supra . Pull up a chair. Pour a glass. And for the love of all things holy—turn on your camera.
When the pandemic forced this ritual online, Georgians refused to let the app dictate the rules. They hacked it. Companies have adapted
Diaspora families, for whom a supra was once a once-a-year luxury, now hold weekly digital feasts. A cousin in Chicago makes lobio , a grandmother in Tbilisi watches, correcting the spice mix via laggy video. Weddings are live-streamed. Funerals, too. The “Zoom qartulad” has become the country’s second living room—a place where you can drop in unannounced, interrupt a meeting about quarterly reports with a story about your neighbor’s goat, and no one will kick you out.
Older relatives, seeing their own video for the first time, panic. “Why am I so old? Why is my hair like this?” The result is an explosion of beauty filters. Grannies in the village of Sighnaghi suddenly appear with cartoon butterfly crowns and smoothed skin, toasting Stalin-era wine while looking like anime characters.
What happened next was not a simple tech adoption. It was a cultural revolution. Four years later, “Zoom Qartulad” (Zoom in Georgian) is not just a phrase; it is a distinct digital subculture, a linguistic battlefield, and a testament to Georgia’s ancient talent for transforming foreign tools into something profoundly, chaotically, and beautifully local. To understand Zoom Qartulad, you must first understand the Georgian supra . A traditional feast is not about the food. It is a ritualized marathon of toasts, led by a tamada (toastmaster), where wine is philosophy, and every glass raised is a prayer for the dead, a wish for the living, or a sly negotiation. It is loud, polyphonic, and requires physical presence—eye contact, a hand on a shoulder, a shared shoti bread. Is he listening
Gaumarjos, Zoom Qartulad. Nini Kapanadze is a Tbilisi-based writer covering the intersection of technology, folklore, and fermented grapes.
By Nini Kapanadze
Suddenly, grandmas who had never used a smartphone were learning to “raise a glass” by lifting their laptops. Uncles were toasting with chacha in one hand and muting themselves with the other after a particularly loud “Gaumarjos!” The Zoom gallery view became a digital supra table: 20 faces in squares, each with a plate of khachapuri visible in the frame, each with a story.