Chichilaki: The Traditional Georgian New Year Tree

When winter’s chill begins to settle across Georgia each year, you might notice something curious and enchanting popping up alongside the more familiar Christmas trees: slim, pale, curly-branched wooden “trees” that look almost like whimsical sculptures. These are chichilakis — Georgia’s very own traditional Christmas and New Year tree, a symbol that’s deeply rooted in history, religion, and ancient cosmology.

If you’ve ever wandered through the holiday markets of Tbilisi or the villages of western Georgia in December and January, you’ve likely seen chichilakis displayed with pride beside churchkhela and piles of pomegranates. At first glance, they resemble delicate ivory cones, but every strip of curled wood on a chichilaki carries meaning. Each is handmade, crafted from a single dried branch of hazelnut or walnut tree, painstakingly shaved to create hundreds of thin curly shavings that spread outward like soft brush bristles. The result is a tree-like form — but unlike the dark green firs typical of Western Christmas iconography.

What makes the chichilaki truly fascinating is its ancient lineage. Long before European Christmas trees were adopted in Georgia, chichilakis were already part of winter celebrations. Historians trace their origins to pre-Christian times, when Georgians celebrated the New Year with customs connected to the tree of life — a universal symbol of fertility, renewal, and cosmic order found in many ancient traditions around the world. Some scholars even draw parallels to Assyrian, Babylonian, and Egyptian tree traditions that symbolized life and abundance.

Georgia’s formal adoption of Christianity in 326 A.D. didn’t erase the chichilaki tradition — instead, it transformed it. Over time, the chichilaki became associated with St. Basil the Great, a 4th-century saint deeply revered by Georgian Christians. Villagers often say the shape of the chichilaki resembles the saint’s long beard, and because St. Basil is believed to visit houses with gifts during the festive season (much like Santa Claus in Western folklore), the chichilaki took on a spiritual dimension alongside its seasonal one.

For Georgians, the winter holidays are woven from several overlapping threads — Old New Year (known locally as Akhali Tseli / ახალი წელი), Western New Year’s Eve on December 31, and Georgian Orthodox Christmas on January 7. Amid these celebratory dates, chichilakis take center stage not just as decorations but as ritual objects that embody hope and renewal for the year ahead. In western Georgia, particularly in Samegrelo, Svaneti, Lechkhumi and Guria, these winter celebrations are closely tied to an ancient New Year tradition known as Kalanda (კალანდა). Celebrated in the days leading up to the New Year, Kalanda is marked by ritual visits, songs, blessings, and symbolic gifts meant to ensure prosperity in the coming year. The chichilaki plays a central role in these rituals, often placed in homes as a sacred object representing fertility, renewal, and good fortune. During Kalanda, households prepare festive tables, welcome guests bearing blessings, and treat the chichilaki not merely as decoration, but as a living symbol of the household’s hopes for the year ahead.

Making chichilaki. Source: Goga Chanadiri

The ritual of making a chichilaki is itself a time-honored practice. In western regions like Guria and Samegrelo, local artisans — often called veluri — venture into the forests in December to select and cut hazelnut branches. These branches are soaked in water and heated, after which their bark is burned away and the wood shaved into long, curly filaments. The resulting tree can be anything from a modest tabletop height to an imposing figure over a few meters tall.

Decorating a chichilaki is a joyful and symbolic act. Families often adorn the tree with small fruits, dried berries, apples, pomegranates, sweets, and even churchkhela — the traditional Georgian nut-and-grape treat. Each ornament isn’t just decorative; it’s an expression of wishes for abundance, prosperity, and a fruitful year. Apples and pomegranates, for instance, are age-old symbols of fertility and wealth in Caucasus folklore.

What truly sets the chichilaki apart from the constant evergreen trees of the West is its closing ritual. After weeks of being a centerpiece in homes and community squares, chichilakis are ceremoniously burned on January 18 — the eve of Georgian Orthodox Epiphany (also called Laghidzeoba or Valency). This fire-ritual serves as a symbolic farewell to past troubles, cleansing the household of misfortunes, and making room for fresh beginnings. The ashes of the chichilaki are believed to carry away whatever negatives the family wishes to leave behind.

For many Georgians, this is not a somber moment — it’s an act of collective release and renewal. In villages and towns, you’ll find bonfires where neighbors gather, light chichilakis together, and watch as the wooden curls turn to smoke and ash. In some parts of Samegrelo, people even buy chichilakis in memory of relatives who have passed away, honoring them with the fire’s transformative symbolism.

Illuminated Chichilaki in Orbeliani Presidential Palace

During the Soviet era, the chichilaki suffered a curious twist in its history. The Soviet authorities, suspicious of most overtly religious customs, banned the sale of chichilakis because they were viewed as religious symbols — particularly due to their association with St. Basil. This ban remained in place for decades, effectively suppressing what many Georgians saw as an essential part of their cultural and spiritual life. But with Georgia’s independence and the revival of national traditions after the 1990s, chichilakis have surged back in popularity, celebrated not just in rural areas but in urban centers like Tbilisi as well.

Today, it’s common to see chichilakis alongside the more globalized Western fir trees — a beautiful example of how Georgian culture can hold onto its roots while embracing new influences. In the heart of Tbilisi, large chichilaki displays accompany Christmas markets and festivals, drawing curious visitors and locals alike. Their gentle, curly silhouettes, adorned with tiny fruits and ornaments, reflect both earthly joy and spiritual longing.

For travelers coming to Georgia during the winter holidays, seeing a chichilaki is more than just encountering a festive decoration — it’s a window into Georgian myth, faith, and cultural resilience. Whether you’re strolling through a lively bazaar in mid-December, watching families prepare their homes for Christmas, or witnessing a chichilaki burning on a crisp January evening, you’re participating in traditions that stretch

back centuries. It’s a reminder that holiday customs are not just ornaments and lights, but living stories that connect people to their land, their ancestors, and the rhythms of the year.

So this season, if you find yourself in Tbilisi, Batumi, or the rolling hills of Guria, keep an eye out for these exquisite wooden figures — Georgia’s chichilakis. They aren’t just trees; they are symbols of life, hope, and the timeless cycle of endings and beginnings.