A gray and looming complex, stretching for blocks along Georgia’s East-West highway, has become the defining feature of Zestaphoni, a small city roughly 185 km from capital Tbilisi. The complex–Georgia’s largest ferroalloy plant–transformed Zestaphoni into an industrial city when it was built in the 1930s. Today, its products make up almost 10 percent of Georgia’s exports. The factory remains the region’s largest employer–and the city’s most visible polluter, spewing yellow fog across the area. After years of passing the complex, I decided to document life in the city and its surrounding communities to better understand how this clash of jobs and the environmental toll on the people who live there.

I arrived in Zestaphon from Khashuri by train. The train, which the locals call the “Masterao,” is the only connection for many villages in the area to the city of Zestaphoni, including  Kharagauli. As a rule, the older generation usually refrains from discussing their daily struggles with strangers. But local young people were much more open about the challenges facing them and their communities: the uncontrolled use of natural resources, unemployment, and wide-spread pollution. For most, the only solution is to leave Zestaphoni as soon as they can for study or work in the capital.

Aleksandre has been running the only veterinary clinic in Zestaphoni for a year.
“I love both the good and the bad in this city, otherwise I would probably leave too. People here avoid talking about problems; they love to discuss politics though. It seems to me that everyone is focused on surviving today. They don’t even dare to think about the future. You will only meet school aged children here. After school they go away to study or work. I can see how the city is losing life. There is not a single space for gathering or having fun. You cannot attend any interesting events, either. For example, I’m eager to have a bigger clinic where we could treat not only dogs and cats, but other animals as well. Unfortunately, we have neither the technical resources nor the knowledge for that.”

Pavle studied wine-growing and wine-making but never worked in the field. Instead, for the past ten years, he has been a photographer and teaches photography to children at the National Youth Palace in Terjola. He takes his classes to a nearby park to discuss photography techniques. 
“We also go to the villages for photo shoots and soon we’ll have an exhibition. I’m very sad that people, mostly the young people, are gradually leaving the region. I think the development of agriculture is the solution.”

He has been performing at Zestaphoni State Drama Theatre for 43 years. He is proud that he has acted in close to 100 different roles on the stage–and is happy the plays continue to attract an audience in Zestaphoni, including young viewers. His parents worked in the Zestaphoni Ferroalloy Plant. 
“In the 1990s we also had a hard time. Actors’ salaries have never been adequate. Our family could not manage to support our children when they were students at the university, so we started trading. We sold groceries. That’s how we survived.”

Barbare Machavariani (left),18, Zestaphoni, high school student

Barbare says the biggest challenge in Zestaphoni for her is the lack of entertainment and education options. The local theater is the only place she can go with her friends to relax. “Adolescence is a bit difficult. You are confused and often worried about something. We don’t even have a single space to gather and share our thoughts. I study well; we have good teachers in Zestaphoni. Furthermore, you can attend free classes and you can study drawing for just 10 lari a month, for instance. However, as soon as I finish school I’m going to leave and probably won’t come back to live here again. It is unlikely that anything will change in the city in the next ten years.”

Elene Tikanashvili (right),18, Zestaphoni, high school student

"My friends and I mostly go to the teachers and prepare for national exams. Home - teachers - home: this  is our everyday life. After she graduates, Elene also plans to continue her studies in Tbilisi. As she says, there are only three job options in Zestaphoni: teacher, work at the Zestaphoni City Hall or the Zestaphoni Ferroalloy Plant. That’s it. Elene also does not see her future in this city."

Shazina is the first woman to become the head of the central laboratory in the history of the plant. She spent her whole life in Zestaphoni and worked at the Zestaphoni Ferroalloy Plant for 45 years. Her parents also worked there.
“Kvaliti district was built in front of my eyes, specially for the plant’s workers. I remember the intensive research process. We worked hard on inventions. Today the salary is poor and our health and work safety are not protected. That’s why people are leaving Zestaphoni. They seek a better life elsewhere.”

What keeps Zestaphoni alive is the market, especially on Fridays and Sundays. On those days, people come from nearby villages to sell their products–mostly dairy products, poultry, fruits and vegetables. The market is full of local color, providing a kaleidoscope of the city’s life. “The number of buyers has decreased significantly, though. We sometimes sit like this and stare at each other reluctantly,” a middle-aged woman selling fruit in the market told me.

Ramaz has been working for the Zestaphoni Ferroalloy Plant for years. Zurab runs the family farm and weaves baskets to sell. Ramaz’s children are grown and left the village: his son lives in Kutaisi and his daughter lives in Tbilisi. Zurab’s two daughters also left Tabakini–one is living in the village of Sviri and the other lives in a different village, Shrosha.