[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.4.1″][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.4.1″ width=”100%” max_width=”100%”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.4.1″][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.4.4″ header_font=”|700|||||||” header_2_font=”|700|||||||” header_3_font=”|700|||||||” header_4_font=”|700|||||||” header_5_font=”|700|||||||” header_6_font=”|700|||||||” custom_margin=”||50px||false|false” border_style_all=”dotted” border_color_bottom=”#f1f1f1″] The Walls Have Ears “Shh! Shh! No one should hear us!” – a phrase from the film “Keto and Kote” (comic Opera by Victor Dolidze; premiered in Tbilisi in 1919) This is not a story about walls, nor ears. This is a story about an old Tbilisian Yard, in which I spent my childhood. Fortunately, I remember much from those times, “dark years of the 1990s, 2000s” as we call it nowadays. Despite its darkness, power cuts, and cold, which were part of our daily life, my childhood also had its peculiarities…