Returning home to find your house in a 'different country'

Hatchet in hand, 82-year-old Dato Vanishvili paces back and forth in the patchy snow; he says he's a prisoner in his own front yard.

Trapped behind a barbed wire fence, the white-haired, elderly farmer hacks at the bare branches of his fruit trees, scavenging much needed fuel to ward off the biting cold of the Georgian winter.

"They don't let me go," he says, plaintively. "I'm stuck here. Where should I go? I don't have food, bread, I don't have anything. What should I do? Kill myself?"

To Georgians, Vanishvili is the desperate face of a frozen conflict, a victim of what some call the "creeping border" -- and Georgia calls the "line of occupation."

Dato Vanishvili, his wife and grandson live on what Georgia calls the "line of occupation" between it and South Ossetia.

His home straddles the disputed line that divides Georgia and South Ossetia.

House in 'different country'

Five years ago, Vanishvili says he left the house to run some errands in the local village, only to find his house fenced off, effectively in a different country, when he returned.

"They said: 'This is Russian territory, so if you don't want to be in Russia leave from here,'" he says. "I'm from South Ossetia, in Georgia. I'm Vanishvili, a Georgian citizen!"

He says he faced an impossible choice: Abandon his home, or lose contact with the country he loves.

Now razor wire slices through his garden, penning Vanishvili, his grandson and ailing wife into their home.

A knowledgeable source indicated to CNN on a map where boundary movements had occurred.

"I'm stuck here," Vanishvili says. "If I cross they will arrest me and I will have to pay money, like penalty. They are watching me."

The only time he sees his neighbors is when they come to mourn lost relatives buried in the cemetery on the other side of his property: Barred from entering it, they ask him to lay flowers on the graves on their behalf, sometimes bringing care packages by way of thanks.

The Vanishvilis are cut off not only from friends and family, but also, they say, from essentials such as gas and electricity, leaving them reliant on firewood for heating.

"My life became worse and worse. Help me if you can," he pleads from the other side of the fence. But there is little anyone in Georgia can do.