The life of IDPs

That is where the used water from the drainage ends up in Imishli IDP camp.

Lack of employment opportunites made some men return to the
traditional production of bricks to earn for their living.

A place where this woman has lived for the past 12 years, sometimes
she shares it with hens.

The life of the Internally Displaced Peoples.

A kitchen that is used by several families at the IDP camp in the town Ali Bayramli.

One of the IDP camps close to town Imishli.

Another IDP camp which is built inside of a cow shed (Kolchoz) close to Imishli.

12 years of loosing hope... !!

Though the story is long, please, make time to read it!

A story with no end. Conflict that has escalated some 14 years ago, followed by ceasefire accord that has been signed 11 years ago left over 800 000 people without homes; people that had to be internally displaced due to a war that took place in their homeland. The territory that has been occupied does not include solely Nagorno Karabakh region but also 6 other regions that surround NK. The whole occupied territory without NK accounts to 15% of the total territory of Azerbaijan! A territory that no Azerbaijani person has visited for more than 11 years.

"Even Hitler when he occupied The Czech republic, left the people to live in their homes and did not clean up the whole occupied territory of all the locals like it happened in Azerbaijan!" I was told.

Due to the conflict Azerbaijan was "blessed" with number of humanitarian and relief organizations that came to the country to help overcome the impacts of war; mainly, to support the IDPs (Internally displaced person) to cope with their new unbearable lifes.

Years have passed. The humanitarian organizations have slowly started to change their scope of work; focusing on development assistance instead of humanitarian and relief aid. Quite a logical step... at least it would seem like it if there would be no more IDPs living in cow sheds and holes digged in ground. Some organizations work on rehabilitation of the houses which were freed, the problem is that the area has no infrastructure any longer so even if the IDP moves home, he cannot live there, as there is no work, no food, no means for life.

Though everyone still hopes. IDPs hope to get back to their homeland and government hopes the occupied territory will be freed. Days past and turn into years. And it seems pointless to build new homes for the homeless people as there might come a moment when they all will get to go where they have come from. And so people wait, some in dorms, some in newly build houses, some in brick sheds, some in cow sheds, some in digged out holes... However, the government made a promise that by the end of this year, all the IDP camps will dissapear.

I got the opportunity to visit the Fisuli region. It is to the south from NK and borders with Iran. This region is from 80% occupied. The IDP camps can be found already few kilometers away from the buffer zone. Most of the IDPs do come from the Fisuli region, so their home is so close but so far away.

I understood that it is forbidden to visit the IDP camps, but since it is just before the parliament elections, the rules eased up a bit and thus the visits are somehow possible.

My first stop was in Ali Bayramli. The dorm houses are full of IDPs. Each family has one room where they live and usually share one tiny kitchen that is placed at each floor. As I entered all the people turned up and started to complain and show me the conditions in which they live. The walls and ceilings are slowly rottening, leaving the rooms damp which makes it hard to breathe, wooden floors are falling apart, balconies should be forbidden to use as they don't seem to want to last much longer. And all the people trapped inside are loosing their hope.

Most of the men are unemployed having no possibility to feed their families. Some men at least repaired the room in which their family lives, other families where they have no possibility of doing so simply live in rotten walls covered with carpets. Women cook and bake their own bread while carrying around their little babies. What a situation to born a child to. But there is no other choice.

From Ali Bayramli we headed further eastwards. Close to the city of Imishli we visited first IDP camp; hundreds of little sheds cramped next to each other build out of clay bricks and reed. When passing by we could see most of the men simply sitting around, drinking their teas. I am afraid some of the men do that every single day. There is also no work for them.
Though some did find a way, they run a shop, or make clay bricks and sell them and hope for no rain as the rain can melt their several day work back into mud.

The trip continued to Imishli. There are few block of houses that are settled by IDPs as well as sheds right across the street from the houses. Seems the "lucky" ones get the house.

As soon as I took my first photo I became the star. I could not make a step without having ten little children running behind me. As soon as I focused my camera some little kid would jump into my view to be on the picture. When I decided to take photo of the bunch of them, I would need to make a step backwards to fit them all in the picture but in that moment those at the back would run up front to be closer to the camera. :o)

Later I was taken by one old woman to come and see her place. Her face was so wrinkled and so exhausted it was unbearable to look at her. She was alone living in two room flat. First thing I spotted was that there was endless amount of mosquitoes everywhere. I hardly could stand there and listen as I was constantly annoyed by the little beasts. But then I got stunned, the room that she showed me used as kitchen and storage room did not have any floor, there were only big rocks placed next to each other. The walls were also rotten and the toilet was just two wooden doors attached to a wall. The place was horrible but her being an old woman of 76 years old, she could hardly change it herself. The other room was less horrible but the mosquitoes managed to prevent the woman to rest for days.

There were no showers in other flats or sheds on that matter. So there would be common showers for I guess hundreds of people and common toilets. The drainage was an open discharge (koryto) where would be a still water full of garbage. The used water had no where to flow off and created a little lake 5 meters away from the common showers, next to the shed camp.

The area around the houses is full of garbage. That is what disappointed me the most. People have really poor conditions to live but they would use windows as bins. Already little children would throw covers of their biscuits on the ground. I could not believe that the people there do not realize that it is in their power to at least keep the place clean and improve somewhat the conditions of living! Their children play every single day around the streets full of garbage, close to the still water of the drainage.

I was invited to talk to three young girls there. One of them spoke some Russian and was telling me she is to be married soon and that she will move to Baku, away from that place. She hated the rainy weather there as well as the life itself. Well I hope she will be happy in Baku.

We left Imishli at night. Still having the next day to see some more of the IDP camps.
In the morning we arrived to an area where people live in cow sheds (kolxoz). They have their little tents build in the sheds and sometimes share them with cows or some other animals. They have some electricity, but the water supply is only from one hose some 100 meters away from the camp where they need to come with barrels that they fill and carry back home. These people have been living in the cow sheds for 12 YEARS! They have one tent where the whole family lives, they born new children there, care for old invalid grandparents. A life one cannot imagine.

There has been one young woman carrying around her 4 year daughter that has never yet managed to make a single step. She cannot walk. The woman was devastated, she even visited the local administration saying she should have rather died by some Armenian bullet than live a life like that. The answer was that if she wishes, she can be transported across the buffer zone anytime.

The worst was though that anywhere I appeared with my camera, being a foreigner there, I brought so much hope to those people. They think that foreigners can do so much, change so much and I was heartbroken knowing that I cannot do more than write a story about what I saw. If the government wishes for them to stay the way they are what can be done to persuade them to change the approach? Majority of Azerbaijani people have never seen a single IDP camp. I am afraid that IDPs have slowly been forgotten.

My last visit was bit happier. We went to a camp where new houses were built by one of the international NGO. Each family had a little house, though no matter if the family consisted of 2 or 8 people, and a little garden. The conditions were so much better than in the previous places but the people were still suffering. They suffered remembering what life they led before they were displaced! Life that might for some of them never come back.

I was waiting to leave when this man comes to me. He looked bit shabby, face all wrinkled and instead of starting his speech in Azerbaijani he talks to me in Spanish! I could hardly believe it. I replied him, really stunned and I found out he studied Spanish and Russian at the University and now he is a teacher at the local school. He was saying how much he misses having the opportunity to speak Spanish. He was so excited that before I left the camp he sent his granddaughter to cut me some roses from his garden. Roses that he grew himself.

One thing I will never forget about the visits. The places where people lived were hopeless, many of the people felt totally worthless as they could not work (some were teachers, historians, artists etc.) but one thing they never lost and that was their hospitability. I do not remember getting so many kisses from women around me like I got in the camps. Warm kisses for the hope that I brought to their lives.

Parliament elections...

There are parliament elections on the 6th of November. Everyone's goal (I guess except for the government) is to have democratic elections. Thousands of dollars go on election education and rights of voters. There are tens of NGOs that have elections education in their programmes (well also because the donors right now give grants for these projects).

The political scene in Azerbaijan (which is claimed to be democratic) devides pretty much only into two parts... those pro-governmental and those in opposition. There have been two meetings/ demonstrations organized by the opposition already this month, both ended up with the police running into the people and beating them up. So much for democracy.

The surnames

There is quite a surprising similarity with Iceland. The surnames. Guys might use regular names and surnames like Asif Kerimov but some like to prefer instead of their regular surname, which they do have (unlike Icelanders), the name of their dad and add the word son. So they might at the end call themselves eg. Rasim Fuadoglu. ("oglu" being in Azeri "son").

New homes...

In the last two weeks I already moved twice... Our office had to move to a new location... that ment that I also had to move, as I lived at the premises of the organization. My boss promised me to help me find a flat but as I needed to move out sooner than expected my collegue and friend Aynura agreed that I can live with her for some time. After a week at her place I moved to a new flat where I will stay till the end.

Two flats, two huge differences! At Aynura's there were three of us staying. Aynura, her sister and me. It was not that far away from the center. It was house with access galleries (pavlacovy dum) and already the stairs to our flat although from iron were worn out with holes in it. The flat had one little tiny kitchen with one even tinier bathroom (with the deadly gas burner) and one room where we all stayed. I was sleeping on the floor and it was sooo comfortable. The two sisters were so nice and from the very beginning I felt there like at home!

After a week I moved to a second place which was in the center of the city. It was more suitable for my work, as I had to visit a lot of organizations and thus could easily walk from the flat. BUT I even wonder if I can call my new accommodation a flat. It is huuuge. When Geof, my boss, was showing it to me, I could hardly close my mouth how astounded I was. The place is huge, there are even three greek pillars inside. I live on a 7th floor with great view over the see and I am so getting used to it... Good that I have only a week left, otherwise I would never want to move out. :o)

Hot water

If you want to run a hot water in old houses in Baku, there is still necessity to turn on gas and put it on fire with a match in order to heat the water in the boiler. At my previous flat I had a regular shower, but then I moved and there was this huuuge gas burner that was to be turned on. My friend showed me how to use it and although I do have experience with gas burners, we used to have it at home, I never really fancied using it.

On one morning I am at home and I want to take a shower. I turn on the gas, wee bit only, as I was told to (plus it makes sense) and I put on fire a long bit of newspapers, cause the match is too short and one can get burnt more easily. I put the burning newspapers to the gas burner and set it on fire... I watch it also to make sure I am putting the newspapers to the right place... oups... this huuuuuuuuuuuuge flame comes out of the burner... it pretty much goes all over my face and I get very nice depilation of my hand which I used to set on the fire... I run to the mirror to make sure that I did not set on fire my hair... everything seems in place, nothing is burning... but my heart beats extremely fast, my hand is bit burnt and I only confirmed to myself that I do not like gas burners... Ok, the process is the following first put the burning newspapers to the gas burner and THEN slowly turn the gas on... Then you spare yourself a nice tan in your face! :o)

Women crave to visit Prague... men already did.

Very nice thing happens every time I say I come from Prague. In that moment eyes of the person I speak to start to sparkle and the words that come out of his/her mouth are always the same: "I always wanted to visit Prague!" ... "Zlata Praha..." ... "I heard Prague is so beautiful...". I hear those words quite often no matter the country I am in... but in Azerbaijan you can tell that the words about my city come from their heart. You can tell that visitting Prague has really been their dream... and now after the regime changed in Azerbaijan most of them know that they will not see Prague any longer. Going to Prague is too expensive. And the recently established straight flight from Baku to Prague is like laughing to their faces.

I met a girl and she tells me how she loves Czech. That it is her favourite country. I was of course flattered by her words but to be honest I thought that she might be exagerating a wee bit with the excitement ... but suddenly she continues... "I even started to learn Czech language ... mluvim cesky...". In that moment I was really stunned! Those are the moments that I am really proud to be Czech.

But she is not the first one speaking Czech. I actually met already 3 people that studied Czech at the University (although this particular girl studies Czech in her free time!).

There were few other answers to my saying I am from Czech. Several older men answered me... yeah, yeah, I have been to the Czech Republic. We went there with the army in 1968! Those were very surprising words when I heard them the first time. But all the men recall Czech with nice memories, as most of them were just young men who might not have made it to Prague and would meet at the villages with Czechs and talk and actually make friends!

One of them told me that he was in Prague and that he was in a tank and was ordered to shoot... but he did not and went to jail for it later. I did not know what to think about his words... but he would describe the place, know the bridges and it all seemed very truthfull... I have no reason to doubt him and I even chose not to. We are all people, why would we want to kill each other!?

So many people know about Czechoslovakia, so many people know bits from our history... so many have heart of Jan "Gus" (Hus) or others... and in those moments I am bit ashamed cause to be honest how much did I know about Azerbaijan?! Not a single thing except for where it lies on the map... And see... I fly to Azerbaijan and I find here such great fans of my country! Thank you...

Heading down south...

I have only few weeks left and I still have not seen so many places. So for my next trip I chose to see the south of Azerbaijan. The areas of Lankaran, Masalli and Lerik. Areas that again sooo differ from other parts of Azerbaijan. The south is predominantly populated by Talish people and probably some 80% of people would be speaking Talish, especially in the villages in these regions.

The southern regions were for quite some time overlooked where the development aid was concerned. The main reason is probably the fact that in early 90s the region tried to create the independent Talish-Mugam republic. They managed to hold on for few weeks only and then the government put a stop to it. Since then the area was sort of out of favour.

The roads down south improved a lot recently. Also the supply of electricity have been better and better in the recent years. Though in winter time they get approximately 4 hours of electricity per day but noone knows when it is gonna come. And the areas do get snow there.
Along the roads you have so many people selling fruits and vegetables. This time you can buy potatoes, cucumbers, but also the granat apples, grapes, apples, pears and some other fruits that I do not know even know. Lankaran is also know for its tea plantations.

I went with a friend, Aynura, from work. We left on Friday evening and arrived in Lankaran around 9pm. The night we spent with one american family that lives in that area. The family has three little kids so it was really pleasant to be with them.

We left the next morning to see some more of Lankaran. First we visited the Lankaran market. One can of course buy anything there but for me the most incredible part was watching the local people. I took several photos and since I have a digital camera I always showed the photo to the person. And once I even got warm hug and two kisses. It is incredible how the locals perceive the camera and sort of appreciate that it is them that you take photo of!!

Lankaran is also famous for another reason. I understood that there is quite a high number of schizophrenic people, especially among the young men. I do not know the reason.

Our trip continued even more south, towards Astara (city that lies on the border with Iran). First we stopped in a picnic area Xanbulan where is this incredible pretty lake hidden in the forests. We walked along watching few women fish there. The area was so peacefull and calm that we did not even feel like leaving! After the lake we continued south and got to a village called Pensar in the Astara rayonu where you can find the Yanar Bulag, the burning water! The water contains some gases and you can just set it on fire! :o) And what is even better, you can touch the burning water and it won't burn you!!

The architecture of the houses and structure of the villages in these south regions totally differs from those that I have been to so far. The houses have more space around themselves, they are many times these cute little square houses set along green forested mountains. This view is the same along the roads from Masalli to Astara. But the scenery changes when you turn to go to Lerik which lies to the west from Lankaran. The terrain becomes more hilly and more green. And the area gets much more rain. I guess quite cool conditions for growing ganja (marihuana). Actually in 90s they started to grow it in this region as there was no law that prevented a business like that ;o). (One would expect that they would grow ganja in the city of Ganja! :o)

The road to Lerik is a mountain road, so one turn after another. We stopped for a lunch in the close by restaurant that was built in the forest right next to a waterfall. Our lunch was of incredible size as usual. Some vegetables, cheeses, bread as a starter. Then the traditional dish Levengi - roasted chicken with special spices and nuts filling. Then came another round of boiled chicken and only after that they brought shashlik and fried potatoes. We were three to eat all this. After we rolled back to the car I was allowed to drive (according to my skills) to Lerik. Aynura trusted me but the driver next to me was extremely nervous. He did say that I drive well, but he was constantly holding his hand on the hand brake, along with not allowing me to change the speed with the gear stick and with constantly telling me "medlenno" (slowly) :o))). Hehehehe. But I had such a great time!!!

In Lerik we stopped only to get a guide that would take us along the area. Lerik is actually famous by a person who died there some years ago reaching the age of 165. And he is definitely not the only person that reached his 100s. There are quite few people like that. One person explained that he hardly eats vegetables and that he lives so long thanks to the regular shots of vodka. :o)))

The road itself to Lerik is spectacular. The Azeri president was travelling to Lerik recently and that is why the road got a totally new coat. Sad thing was that two days after the visit this huuuge bullock of the size of a house dropped on the road and crashed it (but I have not seen the road being damaged so they did repair it thankfully and did not wait for the next visit of the president!) ;o)))

Getting on the track to see a few villages further away from Lerik, the road got considerably worse and we were going quite slowly. I appreciated it as the nature was so brilliant. Green green hills and pictoresque little villages set on the hill sides. This area is definitely one of my favourite. Actually twice we asked the driver with Aynura if we can walk and so the driver would be going slowly behind us as we with Aynura enjoyed walking along the road.

We stayed in the same house for the night where we had the lunch. So beautiful fresh air, green trees and the bubbling of the river flowing by (and no mobile signal ;o)).

The next day we actually managed to get out of bed only around 10. So after a good breakfast we pretty much headed back to Baku. With few little stops to finish my photo collection. We covered more than 800km during the three days.

The other side of Baku!

Stereotypes, traditions, that is sooo strong in Azerbaijan. Men in suits, polished shoes, slow walk, discussions on very important topics... nothing out of ordinary is really possible. When I did something unusual I heard so many times "eto nekrasivo" ("this is not nice").
Many times people feel like doing something (eg. sit on grass in a park) but they don't do it as someone else might see them do it. The brains are so limited by what is allowed and appropriate to do and other things simply won't work.

To give a nice example. I was passing the main street with my two Czech friends, they were both after few weeks travel around Azerbaijan, their hair shaved, but beard growing happily, old "tired" t-shirts, sweaty cause of the heat, shorts, walking boots and big bags on their backs. And the reaction of Azeris was to turn their heads, point fingers at them, laugh openly... I could not believe it... hihihi

Well and finally my point. Last few mornings I got up earlier to go for a walk to the sea and to my surprise I see there people running, sitting on benches and doing sit-ups, people walking, playing football, even with bare chest and in shorts!! I was so surprised, but very positively!
I saw even a dad to run there with his two little kids, a girl and a boy! I saw so many old men running there too! All the other young ones seem to be boxers ;o).

I guess at least in the mornings unusual things are allowed :o) cause all the important people are still asleep! :o))

Donkeys

Donkeys are very important animals here :o). I would actually not expect to find them here. I always connected donkeys with Greece but I never really thought in what other countries they will be used. Poor little ones. :o)


Except for Baku, the center of the city, (and I have not been to Ganja, the second biggest city in Azerbaijan) you get to see donkeys everywhere. They are used to carry heavy loads or they serve as personal transport :o)). And when donkeys have nothing to do, they just wonder around the towns by themselves, or they are left waiting by the roads.

I asked my friend if donkeys are used for some other things as well... I was told that yes, especially in villages where there are no other ways how to do it... :o(((

Shaki

Finally I got to travel up north (if we won't count Tbilisi ;o). I was told that there are big mountains, as in the Shaki region there is the beginning of the Greater Caucasus (well, in my opinion it is more like Caucasus in Diapers as it is still really tiny! To all those who got this joke I will bring a candy.)

We left Baku on Friday night. We hired a long distance taxi again. Our driver was quite a happy chap as he constantly laughed and talked, and as well-raised man he would also look at us when talking. I did not entirely appreciate that as sometimes he would also use his hands to explain things... the combination of not looking up front while not holding the steering wheel is not my favourite. :o)
He told us one joke: "Tourist asks a driver - 'how long does it take to get to Shaki?' The driver answers - 'it depends, the more money you give me, the faster we will arrive.' " We negotiated the price for 120 000 Manat. I guess it was a lot of money as the driver was speeding most of the way from 100 - 140 km/hour! Once or twice he had to slow down "a little" in order not to hit the cow or geese that decided to pass the road. I am quite certain that one goose did not sleep well over the night and that her meat will be quite hard when being eaten if she has to undergo such stressful situations every time she decides to pass the road.

Very surprisingly we arrived unharmed but much older to Kish, a village 5 min away from Shaki. We stayed at a homestay which will soon be a "home-hostel". The young woman that lives there speaks English and is responsible for taking care of the newly reconstructed Albanian church in the village. Together with her husband's mother and sister they would make us breakfast each morning. The husband offered himself as our driver and thus spent most of the time with us.



Saturday morning we decided to visit Qax and Ilisu. We passed Qax on the way to Ilisu, a tiny village to the north east of Qax. The road goes along a river through a valley created by beautiful forested mountains and you arrive in a village that is fascinating as it still preserves the traditional way of life. Old houses hidden behind stone walls, narrow cubblestone streets where you get to wander and absorb the atmospere. Old grandmas sit in front of their houses while having the offspring run around. Once in a while there would be a donkey joining you to walk along, while a cow would suspiciously watch you pass by... The village of Ilisu, once being the capital of an autonomous sultanate in 18th century, has a square brick watch tower, Sumuggala, guarding it. There are also remnants of older tower, Qalaja, on the hill just beside the village.

We returned to Qax where we visited a local museum. When leaving the building we heard men's choir that was undoubtedly inside of the adjoint Georgian church. We even entered the church to find only two men and several women inside that gathered there for the afternoon mass. All singing, knowing the text by heart, following the priest.


After a good yummy lunch (why there is only three main meals per day??) we visited also the remnants of old Albanian church, Qum. Remnants which are to be found in someone's garden as it seems. :o) Qum will be soon renovated with the help of the US Embassy.

In the afternoon we returned to Shaki. The driver brought us to the Xan Saray (Khan's Palace). It is only a small palace that has two floors and 6 rooms that are shown to tourists. But as it is newly renovated, the place is simply breathtaking. In the palace you find the famous shebeke windows which are made as jigsaw of fragments of coloured glass and hand-shaped wooden pieces. The little pool in front of the palace reflects on the windows and creates colorful shapes of light on the floor. All the walls and ceilings are carved and hand-painted.



When leaving the Xan Saray we stopped at the close buy "tourist attraction" - shooting at a target. That was sooo cooool (jako u nas na poutich). I managed to hit the ten!! :o))) (as the only one!) . After some half hour we continued walking back to the city. We stopped to have a tea at Karavan Saray (a place where all the caravans with merchants would come and stay for the night). I managed to recharge my batteries, hihih, in the camera and than we continued to stroll around the city. For the dinner we returned to Karavan Saray and the evening we spent in cayxana drinking tea and smoking water pipe. Well I gladly skipped the water pipe.

The next day we were considering to come and see Gelersen Gorasen. This fortress was to guard Shaki, a rich market centre, that connected Dagestan and Caucasian commercial routes. Becoming richer and more powerful, the Shaki leader Haji Chelabi decided to oppose to the ruling Persians in the 18th century. The Persian Shah sent his soldiers to find out who is the one to have the arrogance to deny Persian sovereignty over the land and Chelabi answered "Gelersen Gorasen" (come and see). The fortress survived the Persian attack.
Shaki itself some 30 years later suffered from a major flooding and most of the houses got washed away. Thus the city center got moved to its present position close to the second fortress, Nukha.

On Sunday morning, as some group of Germans stayed at the same place as we did, we got up quite late to get the access to bathroom and such and so after finishing the breakfast we went to see the Albanian church, we wondered around Kish but did not have the time to come and see "Come and See". Before leaving altogether for Baku we only stopped for a little while in Marxal, nature resort close by, had a lunch in Shaki and headed back home.

The rare black caviar from the Caspian Sea

Going to Azerbaijan means it is very likely that you will bring a can of caviar with you back home. There is the fish sturgeon to be found in the Caspian sea from which black caviar is produced. There is one single company that produces caviar (along with other fish products) in Azerbaijan, the Capsian fish. It is a private company of the president, I was told. Caviar would be sold only in big stores for outrages prices. This Caspian caviar is also being exported all over the world for the price of 1200USD/1kg.

Now for all the caviar lovers with empty pocket. Although it is forbidden to fish the sturgeon for personal or business use, there are some that break the law, of course. Hence, there is cheaper caviar being smuggled to the local markets. One can buy caviar from cca 25USD/100g. But there is always the threat of buying bad product so you might want to have locals recommend you some place where to go shopping. Thank god I am not a fan of caviar and thus I am saved of all the inconveniences connected with buying one single tiny little can which is emptied within no time if you put a healthy layer of caviar on a slice of bread. :o)))

Clubs for entertainment...

There is this one British guy, I will call him Nemo. Nemo came to Azerbaijan some 10 years ago, he is very active, over-energetic, bursting with ideas and most unusally he is also implementing the ideas. Nemo runs several businesses but seems to have also incredible amount of free time. Some while ago he thought of the idea to establish language clubs in Baku. By now there is American, Spanish, Italian, French and German clubs. All of them are run by native speakers and anyone can join in. The participants of course talk/or try to talk in the respective language and can discuss anything, usually matters that are somehow connected to the culture that the language has ties with.

There is also one more unusual club, called the Thursday club, where anyone who is coming to Azerbaijan - tourists, expats, interns, or simply Azeris can join in, meet new people, discuss anything of interest, plan trips together or organize some other events etc. I go to this club and it is fun as different people show up each time and it is quite nice to chat with them.

This is also Nemo's idea to post in the newspapers in order to help out long lost interns who come only for a few months to Azerbaijan. ;o)

The shoes...

I wonder why did I not think of this topic before... as it distracts me sooo much :o)))). There is this huuuge trend for some years now that Azerbaijani guys wear shoes with looooong curved up tips. I expect they like it but I find it soooo horrible :o))). I do not want to offend anyone, but I just had to write about it.

I guess you can also distinguish your friends by shoes... all my friends eg. wear normal "european" shoes, hihih ... there must be something about that!

Druzhba ... beyond the grave!

Druzhba (=a friendship) a word that you might hear quite often in Azerbaijan... Druzhba is considered to be a very strong here, all the men are proud of the bond that is created among them. Girls cannot really understand that. If you talk to Azeri men they are extremely proud to have such true friendship with so many male friends. They can anytime anyplace rely on any of their friends. The men walk together during evenings, drink tea, discuss imporant issues, play nardi (backgammon), you see and hear about the ties everywhere...

I had several talks on this issue and so many guys were so extremely excited when talking about it and I thought... wow... this is something... Well, I am afraid nothing is as it seems. The longer I am here, the more I am sure of it.

Men here like to talk a lot, like to talk a lot about things they did, about what others said about them, about what they did (although they did not do it), about how many true friends they have etc. At the end you find out the reality is much more sad. If I did not have few quite good male friends I would never think the way I do now, cause the everyday male acquitances keep on stuffing me with all the "real stuff" which proves to be nonsense as soon as I mention it somewhere further.

It seems to me that all the men listed in their mobile phones could be claimed to be the best friends. When you see the men encounter on the street they will either shake their hands (those are friends or acquitances) or they will kiss on cheeks (those are considered closer friends). They drop few words then leave and it is hard to know what goes through their had as many times walking with one of the man I would hear some gossips about the person we just met (although they just planted two kisses on his cheek!). Azeris are hot blooded, everything they do they seem to be doing wholeheartedly, love in one moment and hate in another. They will start to fight in a street out of any reason that the tradition might bring. Many times they promise things... but with the promise it stays (skutek utek). Sometimes I wonder how close they can become if their "given word" does not really mean anything. They do so many things just becuase this is HOW it should be, the honesty and openess seems to be missing!!

It is extremely hard to describe the feelings I have and I am afraid I did not manage to describe it too well :o(. But I am quite sure of it though I would sincerely like to be wrong about it ...

Olya is in Baku...

Last year I attended a conference in Sarayevo; conference that had nothing to do with AIESEC. There I met a Russian delegation which was accommodated at the same hotel as I was. I became friends with them straight away and with few I have stayed in contact.
Olya has been one of them. I have not seen her since Sarayevo... though we have had so many plans to see each other in Praha or Samara (where Olya is from) and see... we get to meet in Baku!

Russian or Azeri...

15 countries united in one, the Soviet Union. Each country having one official language (and probably hundreds of dialects) but having another language that united them all. The Russian language. I always thought that great. Look how many children manage to speak some foreign language in Czech rep. - hardly any; and many times it is also the case of even grown ups. And in the Soviet Union so many people knew two languages already from the cradle (as it seems) :o).

In Baku it is easy for me to talk in Russian with everyone; I am always told ... oups, just wrote it in Russian ... "all Bakinci (Baku inhabitants) speak Russian". And that is really convenient. Many people speak Russian even outside of the capital. But of course after the split this ability is slowly dissapearing. Young people learn English (and have same results as the Czech ones - meaning cannot really speak at all) and they cannot speak Russian any longer. What a SHAME! You all know how important languages are and the Soviet Union (no matter if people liked the country or not) managed to have bilingual nation from their baby age.

And the situation now is the following. People mainly speak Azeri among themselves. But some speak Russian; those are the people that were studying in Russian language. Other Azeris usually respect it and speak Russian with them. Funny situation is when you have three people speaking together among which one is Russian educated - their conversation would be in two languages, the two would address each other in Azeri and the third one would comment in Russian. And all understand each other.

And of course, Russian is written in Azbuka (Russian alphabet) unlike nowadays Azeri. During Soviet times Azeri would be written in cyrilic as well and in 90s it was changed for latin letters (as it was before the Soviet Union). The country thus faced a serious problem to translate documentaion, books, signs in the streets, etc. into the latin Azeri. The change of the written language had though another result as well - some percentage of Azeri population simply does not read Azeri any longer. That usually accounts for older people that were used to cyrilic and do not handle the new strange letters.

Tbilisi, the "Hot water" city

Sudden decisions seem to be the best decisions. A friend of mine paid a visit to Georgie when she came last time to Baku. I refused going with her for two reasons - 1, my visa to Azerbaijan were only single entry ($40) and I would have to pay another $80 to get multiple; 2, I needed Georgian visa. Hence, I was not considering going to Tbilisi. BUT :o) my new visa obtained thanks to the Save the Children are multiple & for free and second, I found out that Goergia does not require visa from Czechs (EU) during the summer months!! And so 2 weeks ago I started to plan visitting Tbilisi and this weekend I already managed to see the city with my own eyes!!

I went with a friend by train. We left on Friday night so to arrive on Saturday morning. The ride was great except for damn 3 hours at the borders, first Azeri and then Georgian. There are a lot of Azeri going to Tbilisi while trying to smuggle things accross the border and the process looks likewise when going back from Tbilisi to Baku, this time having Georgian people on board instead. And if one thinks about it, all this happens for years already - every single time when the train passes the borders (at least once every day) there are pretty much the same people on the train and I bet there are also the same customs officers at the borders ... as if they could not have come to some sort of agreement to speed up the process.

Nevermind, so instead at 10 we made it to Tbilisi at 1, thankfully Tbilisi is one hour behind, so we came at 12 Georgian time. Got dropped by a Georgian friend at a hotel, hotel which we did not have to pay for as the owners were his relatives. Very unexpected, very convenient
but very akward as well.



Our first trip was to Jvari Monastery, some 30min away from Tbilisi. It is situated on a cliff while overlooking the Mtskheta village and offering great views of the surrounding mountains. Jvari, built in the 7th century, is one of the oldest churches in Gergia and it is functioning till now.

From Jvari we descended to Mtskheta. It is not more than a sleepy village by now lying on the confluence of two rivers, Mktvari (Kura in Azeri) and Aragvi. Mtskheta used to be the capital city of Georgia for some 500 years in pre-Christian times. In the center of the village you will find the Svetitskhoveli Church, thought by some as the most beautiful church of Georgia, built in 11th century.

After an extraordinary dinner in an outside restaurant placed along a little stream, while tasting different kinds of Georian specialities, we returned to Tbilisi. We took a stroll around the Old Town/Kala with number of churches around, remnants of city walls, colourful houses and plenty of cafes. The Old Town is being slowly rebuilt and very neat little streets are emmerging here and there. We stopped for a beer at a beer restaurant, opened only some month ago, with real brewery inside of the place, thus having the possibility to taste "fresh" beer :o). I am afraid that the beer here is as disgusting as everywhere else (my appologies to beer lovers), though of course Czech beer is still the least evil one :o)). After the restaurant we called it the night, although I could not resist taking few more photos of the night Tbilisi.



I will rather not mention the night as I shall feel sorry for myself :o) so while skipping that I will take us to some 11am on Sunday. Dima (our Georgian friend) picked us up at that time and we continued to wander around the old streets with the aim to make it to Rustaveli Avenue. I had the feeling that all the buildings you might want to see in a city, you will definitely find on this Avenue. First to see is the so called Children's Palace (former Russian viceroy's residence), next to the building of the Parliament. A modern building of the Plaza Cinema, hotel Tbilisi (Marriott), close with the Kashveti church emmerge further along the Avenue. The cars are not allowed to this street during Sundays so one gets to have nice views from the middle of the street (though the reflex of looking for a car coming is still there :o))). There is also the Opera house, Mitropane Laridze Soda Foutain, Academy of Science and other sights to be seen.

We ended up in a little Chinese restaurant for a lunch and returned through other streets to our hotel to fetch the car. As we still had some time left, Dima took us to a newly built church high up on a hill above the center of Tbilisi. Really an impressive building packed with people as it was a holiday that day.



There is another extraordinary sight to be seen on the hill facing Tbilisi, the Kartlis Deda Statue. This metal mother statue is holding a tea-cup to welcome friends and a sword to scare off the enemies. Some distance away from the statue there are the impressive ruins of Narikala Castle very well visible from the center of the city. I guess it is good to mention that Tbilisi is placed in a valley surrounded by hills :o).

The day ended by a visit to a Turtle lake within the woods that border with Tbilisi. The lake is a place where people like to go for a run, or to simply relax or have a swim, again with excellent views of the city.

At 6 we had a train back, and even with "the usual" three hour delay at the borders, we made it slightly after 9 to Baku. So I was sitting at my office with only some 40min delay ;o).

Xinaliq... the almost lost village

Xinaliq is a remote village situated high up in The Greater Caucasus mountains (around 2250m). The name Xinaliq means "The land where hena grows" as the mountains surrounding Xinaliq turn organge-brown during the sunset and sunrise. The village is very unsual as the people that live there have distinct origin (they are not Turkish), they speak their own language which differs from all other Caucasus languages (although they do know Azeri or Russian), have their own habbits and culture that is unique in Azerbaijan.

It is believed that there are some connections between this ethnic group and Scandinavia. Not only here, but also in Qobustan traces have been found that suggests so (Thor Heyerdahl has been visiting these places on numerous occasions).

And of course since the first time that I have heard (well read about it in Lonely planet) about the village I longed to visit it. And finally I had the chance.
I went with my sister and Ilja and except for them we met another 3 Czechs in the streets of Baku that decided to join us for the trip. So this unusual Czech group, together with one Azeri friend, headed to Xinaliq for two unique days!

We got up yet during the night hours (to be precise at 5.45am :o), to leave soon. We met at Baku "bus station", found a marshrutka that was going to Quba (city two hours north from Baku), filled the 7 remaining places in the bus (lucky us) and thus left straight away for Quba. The drive was ok, the weather was still cool due to early morning, and we made it before 10 to our destination.

At the Quba bus stop we searched for possibility to rent a jeep to go to Xinaliq. The roads are BAD so no other transportation (except for horse or your own legs) would make it there. Our Azeri friend managed to get us a good deal, we all placed ourselves in one cool old green Niva jeep (7 is the magic number as it seems) and left for Xinaliq.

The road is fine the first half hour, one passes little villages on the way, bumps regularly into restaurants / chaykhanas (tea houses), there are also tourist resorts being built there (hmm). First part of the road the jeep goes through thick forest, with green hills that further create sort of a gorge. The jeep follows a river the whole way. Here is also the part where the road gets extremely bumpy and one has to hold the seat with one hand, the jar by the ceiling with second hand, and take photos with the third hand... When reaching the place where the river splits into Alik and Xinaliq rivers, the nature again totally changes, there are brown more flat hills around, that very much reminded me of Iceland (for those who have been to Iceland :o).
As we got to this valley, we stopped at a village called Cek, that is where the driver is from. He arranged a dinner for us to be done when we return from Xinaliq and so we could continue with the pleasant feeling of shashlik waiting for us.
We slowly left the mountain road to enter a gravel desert, some sort of a big river basin surrounded by the "Hena" mountains. That is the last part of the road.

We entered Xinaliq and saw tens of little kids running around. As soon as we emmerged with cameras they were all ready to be photographed... I felt bit strange as when trying to imagine that someone would come to my place and start taking photos of me... but the people I guess must be used to it by now. I always asked if I can take photos as it was really cool to see the women in their everyday life... and they would smile and say thank you after each photo we took. We wondered through the streets, silently admiring the houses, the people, the mountains, it all looked simply incredible to us.

There are two mosques to be seen in Xinaliq, one from 12th and the other from 15th century. The people were supposed to be devoted followers of Zarathushtra, before becoming Christians in 4th century and later, in 7th century, converting to Islam. Several ancient cemeteries are to be found on the surrounding hills of Xinaliq.

We left the village some time later to stop at the river basin and have some food before continuing back to the village Cek. There we were ushered inside the house and got to sit at one room and play domino while waiting for the food. We got traditional shashlik, some vegetables and melons and at the end had to refuse the second course of boiled meat, as noone seemed to have any space left in our stomachs. We spent the night on the floor sleeping next to each other and the next day, after a yummy breakfast with home made cheese and honey, we returned to Quba.

The trip was brilliant and if anyone makes it to Azerbaijan I highly recommend visiting this place. I have not described the people, nor the houses, nor their behaviour... I am afraid that all has to be experienced. (Or meet me one night, give me few hours and I will try to describe it in words.) :o))

How did it all start...

I think the very first impulse came from my friend Dasa... some years ago :o) she was writing her diploma thesis on Mexico and went to Mexico and I thought then ... ONCE when I will be writing my thesis (I never doubted I will write them about some country) I will also go to that country! And there the idea was planted.

Few years of University lectures passed, a necessary nuisance for each aiesecer, and I got to the point of actually starting to consider writing my diploma thesis. That was also the time when I chose my minor, Developing studies, and so I was only a step away to deciding that I want to write about some developing country. Next was my "knowledge" of Russian that needed quite some dusting and the region was thus pretty much determined.

I fancied the countries in Central Asia (Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, these three particularly)... but suddenly I received an email from a friend from Azerbaijan who was telling me about a forum that is taking place in Baku and where I could apply. I was lucky to be selected among the participants and so thought... since I go to Baku, they do speak Russian there (well, I though they speak much more Russian than they actually do :o), I could try to contact few NGOs beforehand and ask for interview. That worked out, I met with some when being in Baku and one of them at the end offered me an internship.

And so the country that I was to write thesis about was chosen. I started to read more about the region, learnt more about the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict and was ready to come back in the summer to explore some more. It is really fascinating to be here... although of course it has few drawbacks (if you continue reading my blog you might sense what those are :o).

The NGO that offered me internship is called Save the Children. I have been working for them for 2 months now and I have some 2 to go. This of course gives me plenty of opportunities to learn more about the country, get to understand it a little and, of course, collect some information for my thesis. Except for that it is a brilliant possiblity for me to gain some working experience in non-governmental sector, not to mention the cultural impact ;o).

And as an old aiesecer I could not resist but to offer my services to Baxtiyar who is right now establishing AIESEC in Azerbaijan. And with reference to my age I can as well call myself ... the Senior Adviser, hihihi.

I would definitely pass for Azeri... ;o)

My sister is in Baku... :o)

Back to Nabran...

Last week I got to go to Nabran for three days again ... this time I was participating in a conference that was organized by one of our departments. The conference was devoted to one of the programmes that have been ending this month, so people that worked on the accomplishment of the programme the past two years in different regions had the opportunity to get together and relax a bit.

First day was thus arrival and afternoon and evening we spent in the pool and by the sea. Second day was the actual working day, but with a long lunch break to get to the sea again and in the evening, after a fancy dinner (well, all the meals were fancy :o) there was a disco. And the third day except for the departure was again more relaxing day.

The conference was organized in Atlant, a sea resort hotel. So the place was much more fancy than our previous place. But all the "comfort" was coming in the same package with tens of people all the time around you and with all the noise that loud music can make during the night/morning hours... so I was actually really looking forward to come back to Baku to rest a little.

Lada is the one...

The traffic is incredible in Baku, the streets are constantly full of cars ... with impatient drivers behind the wheel. They drive fast and if someone/something annoys them, they just blow their horn; the often, the longer, the better.

Pedestrians are one of the things in their way. Here they do not even pretend to stop, they just go... if you have courage and you jump in their way, they will just drive around you... they will simply not stop. There is green and red light for cars, if you as pedestrian want to pass the road and you wait for the cars in the parallel street to get green light, you are still not granted that you will pass the street as the cars that turn from the parallel street will not let you ...

And if you think there are a lot of Skodas on Czech roads, then you have never seen the amount of Ladas that are on Azeri roads. Where you look there are Ladas, all pretty much the same type. Some new, some old, some ancient (those hold together byt the willpower :o). When sitting in these (usually the taxis) you feel like holding the door and the seat and the roof to make sure everything stays together for the duration of the drive. (And you feel like putting a pillow under your but not to have it scratched from the road :o)).

But do not think there are no nice new cars around... on the contrary. If you fancy new cars and would want to see some newly released car on the street, come to Baku. This German tourist walks with Azeri friend in the streets of Baku and he notices this smashing car pass by... WOW, he thinks and asks his Azeri friend what car is it. The answer he gets, well that is the new version of mercedes of course! It seems Azeri people buy the new versions straight from the Auto Exhibitions :o).

Shashlik

Before:
You come to a restaurant and one of the meals they will always offer is shashlik. I first thought it is a name for some kind of meat that is done some kind of way... but it seems it is anything done one kind of way :o). So you take anything: any type of meat - fish, veal, lamb, or any type of vegetable - here it usually means tomato, pepper and aubergine (baklazan)... and then you stuck the meat, veggies on a stick and put it to gril using coal. And that is shashlik (well, at least how I understood it :o)).

After:

Have a look and choose...

I never saw it in Czech restaurants so here it caught my attention straight away. When you go to an average Azeri restaurant (the more expensive ones do it the "european" way) you usually never get a menu. You simply know what can be offered and if they do not have it they will tell you some other options.

After you order your meal, they bring this big tray where you can find a plate with different cheeses, plate with "priroda" (my name for vegetables/ greens/ grasses that Azeri love to eat here, eg. dill, chive, parsley - kopr, pazitka, petrzel) and some tomatoe or cucumbers, plate with fruits, bowl with pre-made salads, bowl with dovga (while boiling kefir you add "priroda" and make a very refreshing drink/soup), roasted potatoe, plate with bread etc. And you get to look and pick and since you are hungry, you pick several plates from the tray to cool down the hunger (in my case you stuff yourself so much that you cannot eat the actual meal when they bring it).

I really like this way although it is, of course, an excellent marketing strategy, as one would not order anything when seing it on the menu but as soon as you see it in real, you have this urge to get it... my case :o).

Petroglyphs and mud volcanoes in "Ravine land"

About 60km south-west from Baku is a village called Qobustan. It looks like any other village though has quite unusual surroundings. So of course a great place for a trip. Although maybe not too wise to go over lunchtime, one gets bit hot in the open sun. :o)

The first place that we visited were the mud volcanoes. They can be found some 15min away from Qobustan though the roads that lead there aren't really roads. As you reach the top of the hill this view suddenly opens. Tens of little volcanoes that constantly bubble and gurgle. It is really funny if you have along a person that gets easily frightened. Cause as soon as this "blub" sound comes up from the volcano, the person is likely to jump out of fright. Hihihi.

But so to continue, we headed back to the village and took another road that led us to a place known for its rock engravings. Firstly you are ushered to a small museum adjacent to the rock mountains. There you can see different stone objects, ceramics, tools etc. that were found in the caves around. Then you proceed to the rocks itself.

First to see is a huge stone called Gaval-Dashy which you can hit with another stone and it rings like a gong. Then a small path leads you to different caves where you get to see the petroglyphs. The engravings show people, animals, hunting scenes. Also the rocks itself have quite unusual shapes due to being weather-worn. The place is really amazing to visit.

By the time we finished this little circle around the caves and rocks, enjoyed the view from the mountain over the sea, we were too hot and too tired to spend more time there and so we headed back for the car and back to Baku (in search of air conditioning).

A way to travel...

Quite interesting thing happens when Azeri president or one of his family members decide to travel. In that moment there are police cars all along the route where he/they want to go in order to stop all the traffic on the particular road. You would not find a single car on the road in that moment (except those without drivers of course :o)). Then suddenly this fast fast group of secret police cars comes while encircling the car of the president and within seconds the cars are gone (I would give the