I went to Kendoba with a trainer named Fizuli and a driver named Seymur. Fizuli did the last training step - Environment and Procurement Training, something I talked a little about in another blog. We left at about 10am and got back to the office at about 4pm, and nearly four hours of that was spent on the road looking out the SUV windows at clouds. They tell me it's fog, but it's not. We were in clouds. On the way back the clouds had moved a bit - then I could see the mountains around us more clearly, and the fluffy white clouds were below their peaks and below us. I wish I could have gotten a picture, but the roads and shock absorbers are too rough for that.
The most amazing thing I saw yesterday was two left-handed men. Both are on the village's Community Project Committee, and I got a photo.... the guys on the far left and far right are both left-handed.
I'm not sure if I've talked about the issues of being left-handed in this part of the world before, but it's not particularly welcome in a Muslim culture. In Azerbaijan people always notice that I'm left-handed, but luckily it doesn't seem to bother them.
Before I arrived I was worried that I'd have to eat with my right hand, but I never have. In other countries it seriously bothers people, and in other countries I've forced myself to be right-handed. (That's pretty tough to do with chopsticks.) The local people I've talked about this to in Azerbaijan don't even know that it's an Islamic thing - that's how little they know about their religion. So I've told a couple of people about it. One was offended that there could be any prejudice like that in their culture or anyone else's.
When we arrived at the meeting in Kendoba only five people were present – not even half the group - and after waiting about 1/2 hour, we started with 11 people. Eventually two more straggled in – one when we were half done – and the total was 13. Eleven men; two women. Schedules aren't taken very seriously in this part of the world.
The last guy to arrive fell through the floor a few feet to the left of me. Yes, it's an old building. Very old. My guess is it could have been 200 years old, but it's hard to be sure since the materials they use to build buildings in those villages today are the same things they used many hundreds of years ago. Mud bricks, something to glue them together with, and wood for the window and door frames. Plus glass for the windows in the outsidewalls and above all of the inside doors. (More developed towns, like Sumgayit, Ganja, and Baku, use synthetic doors and windows these days.)
Clearly the electricity was put in long after the building was built. In the room we met in, the wiring came in through the top of the window, which was lowered about an inch. Permanently open. With the heat on. A “T” was made in the wire where it came in, then a light switch and an outlet were wired about six inches away from the T. That's right where rain can come through the gap in the upper window. Luckily the wire was coated, but being near that 220V outlet during a rainstorm could be pretty scary.
Another T in the wire ran up the wall above the window, then across the ceiling to the middle of the room where a single, clear light bulb was hanging. It shut on and off on its own while we held our meeting, so power outages are the same in Kendoba as they are everywhere else. I really thought they’d be worse way out there in the true boonies, but I was wrong.
BTW - here's something that's been gnawing at me for a couple of months... people here rarely shut the front door, even when it's freezing outside. At work and at home, whenever I'm near the front door I shut it. Windows are usually broken, too, and there's no such thing as insulation. Walk by any window or door - even if it's shut - and you feel a breeze. This is something I just don't understand. They complain about the price of the gas they use to heat their homes and it's obvious that it all goes out the front door (among other places). I'll just keep shutting the door when I go by it, and maybe the habit will catch on.
I saw a marshutka in Kendobar that was an old, old bus. Like from the 1950’s. Not a big one – a small one, but a lot bigger than a van. Fizuli told me it goes to and from Ağsu. It was good to see they have a way to get to a big village from there, and from Agsu they can make their way to many places. It could take awhile to get anywhere, but at least they can do it. With a car they could get to Baku in about three hours. On marshutkas it would probably take all day.
The marshutka was blue and green, with the paint peeling off all over. It looked a lot like an old hippie van - something you'd see by Haight-Asbury in the '60s. Many, many things are blue and green here. And even more things are blue, green, and red. For instance, the walls of the room we met in were blue, green, and red (well, it was sort of a light coral pink color – not exactly red). No, the blue-green-red combo isn’t pretty, but those are the colors of the Azerbaijani flag and these people are serious about their patriotism. The flag is made up of three thick, horizontal stripes that are blue, red, and green. The blue stripe at the top signifies the Turkish influence, red in the middle shows the Communist influence, and the green stripe at the bottom is for the Muslim influence. And it has a crescent and 8-pointed star in the middle, in the center of the red stripe, also signifying Islam.
Flag of Azerbaijan
Wikipedia says that the red strip signifies “Europeanization,” but I think the Communists had a much, much – extremely much – bigger influence on where the country is today. Plus, it is more definitely identified as “red” than Europe is. Hopefully Europe will have a bigger influence on where Azerbaijan is going, but that’s quite a way off into the future.
And today I went to Mollaisaqli. That's a village in Ismayili rayon, which is one of the most beautiful rayons in Azerbaijan (or anywhere on this planet). Today I went with Kamala's son, Bahktiyar, to the high school where he taught the Community Project Committee how to draw up their AzRIP proposal. He explained things like what credit is, what a beneficiary is, etc. This group of people is middle-aged, and they didn't know what those things are. Wish I could have understood all of their questions, and it was obvious they were entranced by these concepts. I have photos of the people...
You'd think a spot like that surrounded by mountains would have streams, but I walked all around the village and didn't see one there. The problem is so bad, it's too expensive for AzRIP to help them fix it, so they have appealed to the national government in Baku for help. I was told that they've been promised a solution, but will keep my eye on it to see what happens. A town that tiny could easily be forgotten.
The people there had never seen an American before, so I was an immediate hit. Two of the men at the meeting wanted to marry me - they're 56 and 59 years old and seem like nice guys, but I suspect they aren't my type.
I met some high school students there, too. I even helped get them into some trouble, and they looked like they appreciated it. It was minor - I was out in their hallway taking pictures of the countryside through the windows, and opened a few of the windows to get a better shot. The handles were right there in my face, so I couldn't ignore them. Well, the kids saw me hanging out the windows, and after I walked back into the classroom where the meeting was held, about five of them opened windows and started sitting in them and yelling at friends from them. It was such a big deal to them, it sure looked like they'd never done that before. Never tempted by those window handles. Eventually some guy came by and ran them all off and shut the windows. That's the guy walking toward them in this photo...
After the meeting, Bahktiyar and I walked up the road where the driver was going to pick us up. It was on a mountain, and the view was great. I don't thing the photos do it justice, but they're not bad... these are of the village and the countryside, then of the car coming to pick us up...
It's about time for dinner. I eat lunch and dinner at the office Monday through Thursday. Today I wish it was my shower day today... I could really use one. But there are too many men in the office today (Wednesday). On Thursday afternoon they all leave at around 2 or 3pm to head back to their home town in Barda for the weekend, so that's when I have my shower. And Sundays. Twice a week. But only if the gas is on so we can make hot water.
On Saturday I'm going to a local wedding (they call a wedding a "toy"). Should be good stuff. Too bad I won't be able to have a shower the day I go, but my guess is that nobody else at the toy will have one either. And for sure nobody cares.
I'll upload pics of Basira's house soon. Maybe tomorrow.
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