Zoom Qartulad May 2026

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.

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.

Desperate, families and friends turned to a corporate video conferencing tool: Zoom. zoom qartulad

Gaumarjos, Zoom Qartulad. Nini Kapanadze is a Tbilisi-based writer covering the intersection of technology, folklore, and fermented grapes.

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

By Nini Kapanadze

Georgian internet, while improving, is not perfect. During government-imposed internet restrictions or simple infrastructure lags, Zoom becomes a game of Russian roulette. One person’s audio arrives 12 seconds late, creating a surreal echo chamber. A toast about unity is heard as a disjointed glitch-folk remix. Why is my hair like this

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.