Don Bacho & Bedina Daagdo ... May 2026

Bacho, realizing the wardrobe was now a projectile, dove into the mud. The wardrobe didn't just fall; it soared. It hit the rocks below with a sound like a thunderclap, exploding into a thousand splinters of oak and antique dust.

Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his lip, and pointed down at the river. "Look on the bright side, Bacho. You wanted it in the valley. It’s in the valley. And we didn’t even have to walk the rest of the way." DON BACHO & BEDINA daagdo ...

Halfway down, the path turned into a sharp, muddy ledge. Bacho, sweating and puffing, shouted back, "Bedina! Is it steady? Don't let it slip!" Bacho, realizing the wardrobe was now a projectile,

Bedina, who had spotted a wild blackberry bush and was currently occupied with a handful of fruit, replied with his mouth full, "It’s fine, Bacho! I’ve got it!" Bedina walked over, wiped purple juice from his

Bedina looked at the tumbling wooden mountain, looked at his blackberries, and then looked at the steep 200-foot drop to the river below. He calmly stepped aside. "Bacho!" Bedina yelled. (Drop it/Let it go!)

Don Bacho and Bedina are legendary, lighthearted figures often featured in rural Georgian folk humor and local anecdotes. Their stories usually revolve around their cleverness, stubbornness, or comical misunderstandings of modern life. In Georgian dialects, (

Bedina arrived, leaning lazily against his donkey, Gogi. "Bacho, that wardrobe is larger than my house. Why not just burn it and tell people it was stolen by a ghost?" "It’s an heirloom," Bacho insisted. "We carry it."