Master falconer from Tbilisi, Georgia who leads raptor conservation and cultural preservation across the Caucasus.
Based in Mukhrani, Georgia, Kakhi Jordania is a master falconer and conservationist known for protecting native raptors and preserving the historic traditions of Georgian falconry.
The Mountain Wind That Started It All
On a cold morning near Gergeti Trinity Church, a ten-year-old boy stood still as a golden eagle dropped from the sky. The bird cut through the air with a force that felt both wild and ancient. That boy was Kakhi Jordania. He did not know it then, but that moment near the cliffs of Kazbegi would shape every part of his life.
Today, Kakhi is one of the most respected falconers in the world. His work sits at the center of a theme that guides everything he does: the bond between tradition and responsibility. He believes the old skills passed through the Caucasus can help solve new challenges in conservation, education, and cultural identity.
Learning From the Old Masters
Kakhi’s path did not begin with formal training. It began in the hills outside Tbilisi, where his grandfather, a shepherd, showed him how to read the sky. Later, he apprenticed with master falconer Temur Mamaladze in Dedoplistskaro. The steppe became his classroom. He spent hours learning the weight of a saker falcon on the glove and the patience needed to build trust with a young eagle.
He wanted more than tradition. He wanted understanding. So he traveled through Mongolia, Iran, and Central Asia to study how different cultures trained, hunted, and lived with birds of prey. These experiences helped him build a craft that combined ancient methods with modern science.
Building a Life Around Raptors
The heart of Kakhi’s work is the Caucasus Raptor Conservation Initiative. He founded the organization in 2011 to rescue injured birds, track migratory species, and teach young people about raptor ecology. The mission grew quickly.
By focusing on clear problems, he built real change.
More than four hundred raptors have been rescued and rehabilitated through the program.
Satellite tracking now follows migratory falcons through Turkey and into the Arabian Peninsula.
School outreach brings falconry history and conservation lessons to villages across Georgia.
These efforts highlight Kakhi’s central idea. Culture and science should work together, not apart. He often says that the falconer’s glove is a symbol of trust. It is a meeting place between human intention and the wild.
A Tradition Recognized Around the World
Kakhi has become a cultural bridge. His demonstrations at festivals in Europe and the Middle East focus on storytelling. He talks about the history of Georgian falconry, the roles birds played in mountain communities, and how these traditions can be preserved in a modern world.
His advocacy helped Georgian falconry gain recognition from UNESCO as an important part of global heritage. This achievement linked his childhood passion to a worldwide effort to protect cultural practices that might otherwise disappear.
Art, Memory, and the Everyday Work of Care
Much of Kakhi’s day is spent in quiet routines. Feeding a recovering steppe eagle. Repairing a leather hood. Teaching his children how to listen for wingbeats in the wind.
He paints the birds he rehabilitates. He plays the panduri when friends gather in Mukhrani. These details show what matters most to him. Conservation is not only research. It is daily attention. It is time. It is respect for the rhythms of the natural world.
This theme shows up in his writing too. His book, Wings of the Caucasus, is part memoir and part history. Readers learn not only about his life, but about how falconry shaped the identity of mountain communities.
Blending Past and Future
Kakhi believes that the lessons of old falconers can guide modern conservation. Their patience, their sense of scale, and their deep knowledge of the land can help solve issues like habitat loss and declining raptor populations.
His current research focuses on climate change and how it affects migratory eagles. He studies altered wind patterns, shrinking hunting areas, and the new risks these species face. By bringing data and tradition together, he hopes to protect the birds that defined his childhood.
Keeping the Sky Open
The story of Kakhi Jordania is not a story of nostalgia. It is a story of continuity. It shows how a child watching a golden eagle in the Caucasus can grow into a leader who protects that same sky.
His work teaches a simple message. To care for something, you must understand it. To understand it, you must spend time with it. And once you do, responsibility follows.
Interview with Kakhi Jordania
How did your early experiences in the Caucasus shape your idea of success?
Success began for me long before I handled my first bird. It started in the mountains. When I was a boy, I watched golden eagles ride the air above Truso Gorge. They were steady, patient, and exact in their movements. My grandfather used to say that the mountains reward people who pay attention. I did not understand that fully until I was older.
Those early days taught me that success is not a single moment. It is the result of small habits repeated over time. Sketching birds, learning their calls, listening to older hunters talk about the land. All of that built the foundation for my work now. Success feels like a long path, not a finish line.
What was the turning point where falconry became more than a childhood interest?
The turning point was my apprenticeship in Dedoplistskaro. Training under Master Falconer Temur Mamaladze showed me what true commitment looks like. There were days when the wind was too strong or the bird was not ready to fly. I learned to show up anyway.
One moment stands out. I was working with a young saker falcon that refused to take the lure. I became frustrated. Temur told me to take off the glove and sit quietly. He said the bird would teach me more than he could. That silence helped me understand that patience is part of the craft. It was then that falconry became a calling.
Your work blends tradition with science. How do you see those two worlds supporting each other?
For me, tradition gives direction and science gives clarity. The old methods teach respect for the bird and the land. Modern tracking and research give us tools to protect species that are struggling.
When we began using satellite telemetry in 2016 to follow migratory falcons, we discovered patterns that had never been recorded in the Caucasus region. That data helped us make better conservation plans. Without tradition, we would not know what questions to ask. Without science, we would not know how to answer them.
What challenge in your work has taught you the most?
The biggest challenge has been raptor rehabilitation. Each injured bird arrives with its own history. Some hit power lines. Some were shot. Some were poisoned by rodents eating treated grain. The difficulty is that you cannot rush the healing process.
There was a steppe eagle we named Tamar. She arrived weak and with a broken wing. Many thought she would never fly again. Her recovery took months. Each small improvement reminded me that success often comes from patience and steady care. Tamar eventually returned to the wild. That taught me more than any textbook.
How do you define long term success for conservation?
Long term success is when communities protect the land and wildlife even when no one is watching. It is when a child in a village school learns the flight pattern of an eagle and understands why it matters. It is when traditions are strong enough to be passed on but flexible enough to grow with new knowledge.
I often tell students that conservation is not about saving a single bird. It is about shaping a culture where caring for the natural world is normal. When you build that kind of culture, results follow.
What personal practices help you stay grounded in your work?
I return to the mountains. The land resets my perspective. I also paint. When I paint a bird in flight, I notice details I might miss in the field. It slows my mind. Playing the panduri has the same effect. These quiet habits remind me that life moves in rhythms, not straight lines.
My home in Mukhrani is full of these rhythms. We have rehabilitating birds perched near the house. My children help feed them. Those moments keep me connected to why this work matters. Success is not only the awards or the data. It is the life you build around what you care about.
