Greenian

From: Tbilisi, Georgia

I'm back in Georgia again. This post is about my time in Armenia and its close affiliate, the tiny Nagorno-Karabakh Republic.

I spent most of my time in Armenia in and around Yerevan, the capital. Yerevan is huge, and I haven't seen enough of it to comment fairly. Most of it seems Soviet and grey, but some of the parks (like the one near the Opera, where I've spent a lot of time) are fantastic: lots of nice fountains, dozens of cafes, and locals talking or grabbing a drink. The parks and cafes are packed at night. Even on weekdays, people are out until midnight socializing with friends and family. Also, the beer is pretty cheap.

Instead of staying in a hostel, Thierry managed to find us a place to sleep through CouchSurfing (http://www.couchsurfing.com/). I hadn't used it until this trip, but I'm now a big believer. It's basically a huge website where independent travelers can find other young people with a couch, bed or floor to crash on, in almost any city they want. Surfing is free, but there's an expectation that people who use it offer their place to others in the future. Like other social networking sites, you can send messages, references, and upload pictures -- an incredibly convenient way to find a crash-pad while abroad.

We stayed a few nights with Oscar, a really cool Lithuanian NGO worker and excellent host. His apartment was often full with other Couchsurfers, friends and co-workers from all over Europe, so it was a lot of fun. We made a couple of meals, played cards and backgammon, drank some beers and had a lot of great conversations in French, English, German and my favorite, mock-Russian.

Our only day trip from Yerevan was to Echmiadzin, the 'Armenian Vatican' and seat of the Catholicos (head of the religion). It's also a UNESCO World Heritage place. Like the Holy See, Echmiadzin is a collection of churches, shrines, seminaries and administrative buildings. They also have some pretty incredible relics, such as the Geghard Spear (the spear used to stab Christ on Calvary), although these aren't available to the public. Mary Tachar, the head church, is a medium-sized building from the 7th century:

The courtyard around the church is great: it's filled with tourists and pilgrims, both national and diasporan, as well as bearded Armenian priests dressed in their long black robes. There are also three more substantial churches in Echmiadzin, with Surp Hripsime my favorite. It was very quiet -- a great place to go, light a candle or two, and forget about everything outside for a little while. It's also a nice break from the oppressive Armenian heat. Here, the prayer room with stone tablets, towards the back of the church:

Those were the highlights of Armenia. Now, onto the NKR (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nagorno-Karabakh).

The Nagorno-Karabakh Republic has a complicated and unfortunate recent history, especially given the internal war in the early 1990s. Here's the oversimplified version: the current territory of Karabakh was an ethnically mixed Armenian-Azeri region within Azerbaijan during Soviet times (although the area had an Armenian majority). Towards the collapse of the USSR, the Armenian population held a referendum to become independent from Azerbaijan, which was, of course, opposed by Azerbaijan. This led to civilian massacres on both sides and a military clash between Armenian-Karabakhtsis (backed by Armenia and Russian mercenaries) and Azerbaijan (backed by Turkey and some mujahideen). The war went on for a few years, with huge losses on both sides. The Armenia side basically won, and the NKR became effectively independent (although few other countries officially recognize its legitimacy). Almost all the Azeri population fled or was forced out, leaving NKR roughly 95% ethnically Armenian. Tiny, and with no industry, the current Republic effectively operates as an Armenian protectorate; there is only one road in, since the borders with Azerbaijan are mined and guarded.

Despite the grim events of the 1990s, the tiny republic is a fascinating place to visit; it offers stunning scenery, remote monasteries, charming villages and, for those looking for it, stark reminders of the conflict itself.

Our first stop in the NKR was Stepanakert, the Karabakhtsi capital. This is the place where everything happens in this country; with 40,000 inhabitants, it's the beating heart of the place. First things first: we had to get the registration for our NKR visas and permission to visit the different parts of the country. The process cost $0 and took all of 3 minutes. I wish that more countries in the region could be like that.

And so, registration in hand, we headed for Shushi, a once-charming walled town near the capital. Before the war, Shushi was the Azeri cultural capital in the region, and had several beautiful mosques, protected by 300-year old fortifications at the top of sheer cliffs. During the war, the city it was the main staging point for the Azeri-led campaign, and it took a lot of damage towards the end of the fighting.

Here, some semi-inhabited apartment buildings:

Fortunately, the place is undergoing some restoration. Since the NKR has no domestic income, all the reconstruction money is coming from diasporan Armenians, mostly living in the US or Russia. Two of Shushi's Armenian churches have been nicely restored and look like they're in full operation again. One of them even had a wedding going on (in fact, the third I've seen in Armenia). Here, a church assistant sweeping away the congratulatory rose petals:

We also walked around the 'old town,' which consisted of a few ruined mosques and the old city walls. Some of the mosques were very beautiful, but it's unlikely that they're going to be restored anytime soon, given that there are no Muslims living here now. This mosque lost the top of its minaret:

We ended up finding accomodation in a local village called Selo. I was introduced to a haematologist-turned-taxidriver called Ashot -- he offered to take us to his home village to see the traditional way of life, stay for the night, and have a 'free' meal.

And the meal was indeed free, but first we had to make it. Ashot gave us each our tasks. My first one was to help him 90-year-old father dig up potatoes out of the garden (what my Scottish relations would call 'houking tatties'). I must say I was highly impressed by the elderly gentleman: despite his age and the fact that he had lost an eye as a POW in WW2, he still managed to keep his garden in working shape. Here, me scooping the potatoes up:

Halfway through preparing the meal, I was asked to go get some peas from the garden. Easy, right? But as soon as I stepped onto the soil, I was aware of the shameful fact that I didn't actually know what peas grow on -- a side-effect of living in suburbs and cities by whole life, I guess. So I checked the different parts of the garden, where I discovered that peas don't grow on pea-trees or underground on pea-roots. They grow on vines. And I picked a bunch, but not before promising myself that I would learn about farming, or at least gardening, when I get back home.

The next morning, Ashot woke us up early to go to Gandzasar, Karabakh's most famous monastery. It's considered the NKR's most stunning sight, a 13th-century monastery perched high in a range of forested mountains, with a great view of the villages below. The main church there has unusual carvings on the outside walls, with randomly-placed stone slabs with Armenian script on them. We also managed to arrive early enough to catch the Mass inside the church, a very ancient-feeling ceremony: the assistant shook a rattle that off incense, lit up by a few shafts of light from the windows; the priest sang some sort of plainsong in Armenian. Very enchanting. Here's a picture of the church:

All over Karabakh are the shattered remains of former Azeri settlements. We saw several as we drove past; all of them were lifeless, with broken buildings and streets grown over with weeds. Ashot and other locals were unwilling to take us to any of those places, especially the ghost town of Agdam, near the Azeri front line. I can think of a few reasons why they didn't want to take us, and all of them are understandable given what a recent and painful memory the Karabakh war is for those living here. We did, however, get to see a tank monument just before Agdam and the mined border region. Here, a decommissioned Armenian tank, now a monument to the war.

On a less serious note, we also stumbled across the famous 'Karabakh sculpture.' This strange thing was commissioned after the war -- it's made of Armenian stone and is featured on, say, 80% of the postcards you see for Nagorno-Karabakh. Now you won't even need to buy the postcard:

After an early rise and a morning packed with sights, I was pretty exhausted. So I sat around the hotel for the rest of the day, drinking fizzy mineral water and eating Armenian gingerbread. It's like normal gingerbread but is softer and has a sugary glazing -- excellent.

Next up: not really sure. I'm heading to Turkey tomorrow so I'll probably write more from Istanbul. In the meantime, I'm going to go find some khachapuri for dinner. I'm very hungry all of a sudden, probably from writing about gingerbread.