Kakhi Jordania’s Career in Falconry Took Flight Early
- Brainz Magazine

- Nov 25
- 3 min read
From a childhood moment in the Caucasus to global recognition in conservation, how one Georgian falconer built a career that connects old traditions with new ideas.

How Kakhi Jordania turned a local craft into global work
The first time Kakhi Jordania held a falcon on his glove, he was a teenager in rural Georgia, standing in a wide open field in Dedoplistskaro. The bird didn’t move. It didn’t need to. The weight alone was enough to change him.
“It wasn’t just about power,” he says. “It was about what it meant to hold something wild and trust that it wouldn’t leave you.”
Now in his 40s, Jordania is one of the most respected falconers in Eurasia. But his work stretches far beyond training birds. He’s built a career around three main ideas, conservation, education, and cultural heritage. Together, they’ve shaped not just his life, but how falconry is seen in the modern world.
Starting with a golden eagle and a sketchpad
Jordania grew up in Tbilisi, Georgia, in the shadow of the Caucasus Mountains. His grandfather, a shepherd and hunter, introduced him to birds of prey early. One moment stands out, watching a golden eagle hunt near the cliffs of Kazbegi. He was ten years old.
That image stayed with him. As a child, he filled notebooks with sketches of hawks and eagles. While other kids played soccer, he studied how raptors moved. By fourteen, he had found a mentor, Master Falconer Temur Mamaladze, who taught him how to train and care for birds in a way that honored centuries of local practice.
“It wasn’t just about the techniques,” Jordania says. “It was about knowing the land, the seasons, and your own limits.”
Turning knowledge into action
Between 2000 and 2004, Jordania took that foundation and expanded it. He traveled through Central Asia and the Middle East, studying with eagle hunters in Mongolia and observing hood crafting in Iran. He also worked with ornithologists to learn how raptors migrate and how their patterns are changing.
This mix of tradition and science would become the basis of his biggest idea yet, to create a center that didn’t just train birds, but helped protect them for future generations.
Launching the Caucasus Raptor Conservation Initiative
In 2011, Jordania launched the Caucasus Raptor Conservation Initiative (CRCI) out of a small field station near Tbilisi. At the time, there were few groups in Georgia focused specifically on birds of prey. His goal was simple, rescue injured raptors, protect local ecosystems, and pass on the knowledge behind falconry as both a skill and a cultural practice.
“Conservation work is often reactive,” he says. “I wanted to create something proactive. Something that could last.”
The program now tracks migratory birds using satellite telemetry, runs school programs across Georgia, and has rehabilitated over 400 injured raptors. It also helped get Georgian falconry recognized by UNESCO as part of the world’s intangible cultural heritage.
Making ancient skills relevant today
Jordania is quick to point out that falconry isn’t about spectacle. For him, it’s a tool, one that teaches responsibility, focus, and the value of interdependence. His public demonstrations, whether in Abu Dhabi or Berlin, are as much about education as they are about the birds.
“When people see a saker falcon fly, they’re amazed. But then they want to know where it came from, what it eats, what’s happening to its habitat. That’s where real learning starts.”
His school outreach program, School of the Eagle, now teaches hundreds of children in rural areas each year. They learn how to identify birds, why biodiversity matters, and what it means to carry forward traditions with care.
Living the work, not just talking about it
Jordania’s home in Mukhrani is more than just a place to live. It’s also a recovery center for birds. There’s Natia, a saker falcon that survived electrocution. Mzekala, a barn owl with a fractured wing. Tamar, a young imperial eagle still learning to fly again.
He shares the space with his wife and children, who help with feedings and join in hikes through nearby grasslands. His days often start with painting bird studies and end with playing the panduri, a traditional Georgian instrument, for guests or volunteers.
“It’s not a job,” he says. “It’s a rhythm. You shape your days around the birds, not the other way around.”
What's next for Kakhi Jordania?
His next book focuses on how climate change is affecting raptor migration through Central Asia. He’s also exploring how to use data and cultural storytelling together to shift how conservation is taught in schools.
Looking ahead, Jordania isn’t trying to scale a business or chase status. His goals are steady. Protect the species. Pass on the skills. Keep the story of the Caucasus sky alive.
“People think falconry is about control,” he says. “It’s not. It’s about connection. If you build that connection, everything else follows.”ue more than ever.









