Esp'errance

Saturday, June 6 2009

Gates of India

By Francois on Saturday, June 6 2009, 12:32 - Journey stories

We landed on 27th April, early in the morning, in Mumbai (the new name of Bombay). When leaving the air-conditioned hall of the airport, we were surprised by the tropical stickiness of the air despite the early hour (it was 6.30am). Our Sikh driver invited us to climb in his yellow and black taxi. Off we went, towards the old Bombay where our hotel was.

The city woke up softly; lots of those who sleep in the street were still lying down. The city was full of colours and was bursting with vitality: huge trees were growing between the lanes of the suspended highway, already kids were running around, and animals were wandering freely along the road.

The driver accidently gave us the present of a detour by the famous ‘Gates of India’, which are a national symbol!
                  Gates of India, Mumbai

We discovered Mumbai during the following days. We strolled quietly between the Victorian buildings, which have a strange architecture with a mix of British and Moghol styles. We found Mumbai relaxing and that really amazed the Indians and other tourists we met. The Indian anarchy contrasts with the Iranian harshness and order. The mind like the body felt freer.
                      Mumbai (Bombay)

We then went off to Goa. This little state of India still belonged to Portugal less than 50 years ago. We made a cultural stop in Panaji and Old Goa (Oh! The beautiful Portuguese churches!) before we set our hearts on the beach of Palolem for a week of idle life. Fine sand and coconut trees…what a delightful picture!
                   The beach of Palolem

Our batteries recharged, we went south towards Honnavar and our first ‘bringer of hope’ in India.

François
(Traduction: Yolene Dabreteau)

Monday, June 1 2009

25 Days in Iran

By Gabrielle on Monday, June 1 2009, 17:31 - Journey stories

25 days in Iran, that was as much as our visas allowed us. We thought we had plenty of time, but it was already the end of our trip there. We had just gotten the hang of it and with so many places left to explore, it was already time to leave.

Despite our good intentions, we have to admit we had not arrived in this country filled with serenity. Our first hotel was grotty enough. In the early hours, there were screams in the corridor. We were panic-stricken, jumping out of bed at the idea of a possible raid from the vice squad. Actually, it was rather a simple argument about the priority to use the communal showers.

A few days later, we went to Masuleh in a small van improvising as a taxi. Our bags were in the trailer of straw. There were three of us in the front seats, the police stopped us. There it was, they were going to cart us off! It was actually passport control. They gave us the passports back with a big smile and a ‘Have a nice trip’.

Masuleh

In another town, we hailed a taxi (official this time) to go to the bus terminal. We were driving, driving, leaving the town…where was he bringing us? I was not reassured but we finally arrived safe and sound. That was one of the small things to know: all the bus terminals and train stations are located really far out of town. In the same vein, the collective taxis that connect the towns to one another do not go further than the entry of the towns. The town taxis take over from them there. Each one has its territory! We learnt that as we went along, when we were let out without any explanations in the middle of a crossroads.

We did not understand Farsi, and we got often mixed up between rials and tomans (the currency there). It sometimes made things difficult when we asked for directions or to negotiate a price. Taxi drivers were the toughest businessmen. We were patient; we just had to wait a little until an English-speaking or German-speaking guardian angel would come to help us, translating and negotiating for us, happy to meet us and to do us a service.

In general, Iranians are happy to see foreign people coming to visit them. They insisted on giving us souvenirs from their country; we received presents every day: a cup of tea, a meal, an ice cream, a helping hand, a stroll, a bus ticket, a museum ticket, etc. Thanks to all that, we started to relax.

Naptime in Yazd

We spent our last days there peacefully in Yazd, one of the oldest towns in the world at the doors of the desert. The first hot days pushed us to adopt the local rhythm: rest between noon and 5pm. We liked the atmosphere of the narrow streets in this all brown old town. We strolled between the earth and straw walls, in the shade of the covered alleyways, always thinking we were getting lost. Here and there, tall wind towers stood. For hundreds of years, they have been cooling down the interiors of houses and the water from wells. The last rays of sunshine added a lovely golden colour to the scene before the night fell and the town came to life. It was then time to do some shopping. We felt at ease in this peaceful town that has a shock asset: an incredible ice cream maker and its absolutely fabulous pistachio ice cream!

In the streets of Yazd

We adopted the tea ritual. Iranians drink it at every hour of the day and everywhere. On the dashboard of a bus, you could inevitably find a small china sugar bowl and a cup: the vacuum flask was not far. In the calm of the hotel courtyard, we sat down with other travellers on big carpets around tea, and exchanged our impressions. No surprise: women spoke about the veil tied up on their heads, just to say it was unpleasant not to be able to go outside without putting it on (even to go to the communal bathrooms). They knew they would have the opportunity to take it off soon. The conversation went on, evoking the magical cities, the incredible landscape, the unlikely encounters, the discoveries, the good times, etc. It is impossible to remain indifferent to Iran.

Yazd

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

(More pictures of Yazd in the photo album)

Sunday, May 31 2009

Persian Encounters

By Francois on Sunday, May 31 2009, 18:26 - Journey stories

‘Where do you come from?’ before even ‘Salam’ (good day): this is the way Iranians approach foreign people in the street, on public transport, all the time. If we should linger on the way somewhere for a few minutes, the unavoidable question ‘what do you think about Iran?’ comes up for discussion.

A lot of Iranians are English speakers or German speakers. This facilitated contact. Educated and cultured, lots of them have spent a few years abroad and are really open to the outside world. We understood that the perception about Iran abroad bothers them. They love their country and wanted to give us their version: ‘what the occidental media say about Iran is not the truth, we are not terrorists’. About their president who is widely talked about: ‘He is an agitator, a liar’.

Our cautious silence did not prevent people telling us their little secrets. Mahmoud*, who picked us up hitchhiking, was coming back from his honeymoon. He was really proud to be in love with his wife, when he showed us her veil: ‘I don’t like that but they force us’. And in fact, not all the women wear the veil in a voluntary way. In Bandar Anzali (seaside resort on the Caspian Sea) and in some districts of Tehran, we thought sometimes we had got lost in Italy. Some women wore light and colourful veils simply hung on their hair buns, like a provocation. These women had a refined elegance; one would almost think their veils are fashion accessories. Of course, there are also those who wear the long black chador that covers them from head to toe. They glide along like ghosts in the alleys of the bazaars.

Iranian tourists in Yazd

For boys, it is different. Except for a few rare mullahs, all the men are dressed in an occidental manner. A lot of young people have (unfortunately) adopted the same tektonik hairdo as people wear in Paris. They pay great attention to their look, and sometimes even wear coloured contact lenses. We discovered that men do not have to be as modest as women, and we could not avoid being amazed at seeing hugging and kissing between men in the street, sometimes even on the mouth. There is however no possible ambiguity since there are no homosexuals in Iran…according to the authorities.

On the bus in Tehran

There are no homosexuals, and no alcohol either, except in the Armenian and Jewish minorities (about 400,000 Christian Armenians and 25,000 Jews live in Iran). Muhammad* however, when he learned we were French, told us about his pronounced taste for Burgundy wine (of which his cellar is full…). ‘Isn’t alcohol forbidden in Iran’, we asked innocently. He burst out laughing: ‘It is authorised as long as we are not caught, otherwise…’. The appeal of alcohol did not seem exclusive to lovers of great wine. In a collective taxi, on our way back from a walk, a passenger offered us local ‘vodka’. Same innocent question, same bursts of laughter…

Actually, the strict restrictions imposed by the Islamic Republic on its citizens in order to keep them on the ‘straight and narrow’ seem to have an opposite effect, especially with young people. Marjane* and Zohreh*, two golden blond haired sisters, welcomed us at their parents’ house. The eldest has her own flat in town, she has decided she would never marry. They are unanimous in their rejection of the regime and they dream of going abroad. Their mother approves but unlike her daughters, she kept her veil on in our presence, probably out of modesty…it is not all that simple.

Cyrus* also wants to go abroad. We had promised ourselves to keep our distance from people wearing uniforms in order to avoid bad encounters with religious militia that are over zealous. However, when a hesitating soldier decided to approach us with extreme kindness, we engaged in conversation with pleasure. He intends to fly to Austria as soon as his military service is over to join his brother who is an engineer there. In the meantime, he appreciates his good luck to have been posted to Tehran, while other conscripts fall under the gunshots of heroin traffickers at the borders with Pakistan and Afghanistan.

The conversation went on in the bus, he and I on one side of the central gate, Gabrielle on the other side. Because in buses, men are at the front and women at the back. It was not always practical to consult each other when we did not know exactly where to get off, especially during rush hour. In the collective taxis, things were much easier. Everybody crammed into it without asking any questions, seven of us sometimes squeezing into a modest Renault 12: conviviality and encounters were assured. On the night trains, some carriages are reserved for women, who can also choose mixed ones…except that when we had booked our tickets, we had not specified that. It allowed us to meet Reza*, an Irano-American, who helped convince the conductor to let us travel together.

A Friday in Esfahan

The next day, we joined Reza for a long walk along the river. Like every Friday, numerous families picnic in parks. Reza spoke about the exceptional nature of the Iranian sense of hospitality: ‘In Iran, we can even ask to be invited, no problem!’. We had an example in situ when he approached a family to ask them for tea. Without further ado, we were warmly welcomed on the familial blanket, a cup and sweets put down in front of us. A bit further down, Reza repeated the experiment with a group of female students. Their regulation veil does not stop them from being clothes-conscious, it just gives them a well-behaved look. We did not understand much of the talk Reza started with them in Farsi. We could only see it made them laugh a lot and many times. After a few souvenir photos, we left them to continue our walk. Reza translated for us the naughty jokes that had just had so much success…not so well behaved it appeared.

Iranian students

Iranians easily invited us to their places, with no fuss. Once, we were eating in front of the television that was tuned to an Irano-Californian satellite channel. Maybe the religious authorities did not react fast enough when the satellite dishes arrived in Iran. Be that as it may, numerous Iranians are today equipped to receive the kind of musical programs we were watching: music videos in which half naked female singers dance in suggestive poses. Our host explained to us that female Iranian singers have to expatriate themselves, because in Iran women are not allowed to sing.

Javad* sings in a band. We met this dishevelled teenager in the street, and he decided to walk a bit with us. He told us about his passion: hard rock and metal music. Life in Iran is hard for this misunderstood artist. He confided to us, with the blasé air of people his age, that in Iran the majority of people have no interest in hard rock and do not even know Rammstein. We did not know what to answer to that…we must have gotten a bit old.

We left each other in front of the ‘Coffee Net’ where we were heading. Iranians are big Internet users, despite the censorship: it was impossible to access the website that manages our newsletter. By cause and effect, Iranians have become professional hackers, and the codes to ‘crack’ the security locks are tagged on the walls. And, if we go by the searches made on Google by the previous users, we can see that the authorities haven’t censored all the ‘immoral’ websites.

However, there is another side of the censorship that cannot be avoided. Ali*, with whom we had taken ‘mixed’ photos (unmarried men and women, only some of whom are Iranians), begged us not to put them on our website. He has already been rapped over the knuckles when photos of him were found on the holiday blog of European tourists…this is Orwellian.

Maybe that is the most disconcerting thing. We had a feeling of ‘normality’ and many times one would have thought we were in the south of Europe. However, our interlocutors reminded us that there is a regime behind the scenes that checks and controls their private lives. All these rules and prohibitions seem to be stuck to a society that has not really internalised them, and that’s putting it mildly! There was something a bit artificial in the air, in this country that did not appear to us particularly religious or traditionalist.

However, even if numerous people confided to us their rejection of the Islamic regime, some others also told us about their deep commitment to Iran. On one side, a nougat seller, who showed us the Ayatollah Khomeini on the 10,000 rials note we gave him: ‘It’s the Devil!’. On the other side, our neighbour at table in a restaurant, commenting on a propaganda video on the television about the threat of an Israeli attack: ‘We are ready to defend ourselves’. The Iranians are very patriotic and do not confuse their country with its regime. For Nasser*, this waiter who gave us a brief account of the past splendours of Persia: ‘One day, Iran will be free’.

Francois
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

* Every name has been changed

Saturday, May 30 2009

"Half of the world" tour

By Gabrielle on Saturday, May 30 2009, 17:05 - Journey stories

It was five in the morning and the train came into the station. After our journey in the north of the country, and many days in Tehran punctuated with numerous visits to the Indian embassy for our visas, there we were at last in this town which the name alone makes people dream: Esfahan! Well, almost…A fellow traveller guided us from bus to bus and to a majestic bridge, which guards the entry of the city. The sun rose, we started crossing. The big stone arches on both sides of the bridge give a view on the large Zayandeh River, which flows in the middle of green parks.

We stepped onto a big avenue that has a central path in bloom; the gardeners were bustling about already. We found a bedroom in a hotel, in spite of the early hour. We took the rest needed to start the tour of ‘half of the world’. This is the nickname of the city bestowed by a French poet who had fallen under its spell in the 16th century.

During this first day, the visit became ever greater: first, the Hakim mosque, the oldest in Esfahan. I sang a little under the dome. With such an echo, the imams did not need microphones! The walk continued across the bazaar. We had the feeling of having entered an underground city. Sheltered by high brick vaults, we went through the maze of dark and cool laneways…and completely empty that day: Thursday, first day of the weekend. What a strange feeling in a place usually so lively!
                               Bazar-e-Bozorg, Esfahan

We emerged from this long tunnel, a bit dazzled, in front of the Shah Jame’ mosque (the biggest in Iran). It was built with the passing centuries and dynasties, the latter having left their imprint. In the inner courtyard, four iwans* each more beautiful than the other. However, we preferred wandering through the forest of pillars that support the building in the shadow and silence of the adjoining rooms. It opens the way towards the huge domes that stand at each end.
                                  Jame’ Mosque, Esfahan

At the exit of the mosque, temptation was waiting for us: the fruit market and all these delicious delicacies of which Iran alone has the secret. Not far from there, we found the bird market in a very small courtyard where hundreds of cages were piled up. The tropical birds were next to the hens, and multicoloured chicks were squeezed up in big card boxes. What a strange racket!

After passing again under the shelter of vaults in the bazaar, we arrived without expecting it on the Imam Square (or Shah Square). It was grandiose! We were lost in wonder in front of this huge rectangular complex edged with arcades (the second biggest square in the world after Tiananmen Square in Beijing). In its centre, it has a fountain around which are laid out perfectly kept parks. Families meet there to picnic or chat. Female students were installed there to draw the splendours that are the pride and joy of the country: the Imam Mosque and the Sheikh Lotf Allah Mosque of which the turquoise domes sparkle under the sun.
                  The Imam Square

We went on the terrace of a teahouse. What a surprise! It was the first time since we had started our trip that European tourists surrounded us. Like them, we were enjoying the unrestricted view of the scene that seemed like something from a tale of the Arabian Nights. Maybe this was the feeling that Shah Abbas the Great wanted to give to the people visiting the new capital town. The Imam Mosque is probably the showpiece of this square. When coming from behind its high doors, we did not know where to look anymore with such beauty and harmony around us. We were frenetically taking pictures in front of the mosaics, the domes, the minarets, the vaults, etc. We continued under the dome of its neighbouring building, the Loft Allah Mosque. Birds had invited themselves. We followed with our eyes their flight between the flowers and the poems calligraphed in Persian letters.
                     The Imam Mosque

In the middle of all these treasures of the past, Esfahan lives in the present. We enjoyed the calm of the big parks where chess games are organised beside the self-service bodybuilding machines. We tasted the atmosphere of a sunny weekend, where families migrate along the river to spend the day under the shade of the trees with everything they need for a picnic. Quite often, you would find yourself invited for tea. Some people were resting, reading or studying, while others went for a ride on pedal boats under the big stone bridges. It felt almost like a summer’s Sunday along the Marne River…

Gabrielle

* Hall voûté ouvert sur une cour intérieure

(Plus d'images des merveilles d'Ispahan dans l'album photos)

Wednesday, May 27 2009

Change of scene

By Gabrielle on Wednesday, May 27 2009, 18:16 - Journey stories

Persia is a crossroads where men coming from far-off lands have passed each other over the centuries. Conquerors and merchants have left their imprint on today’s Iranians’ faces: fair or dark skin, old people with mandarin profile, red-haired and blond-haired, it’s a big mix. This is where three big geological plates meet. They gave birth to gigantic chains of mountains and landscapes as diverse as extraordinary. By going across Iran, we had the feeling of passing through different worlds. What a trip!

When we arrived, it was like landing on the moon in the middle of big folded mountains with shades of beige, yellow and ochre, dotted here and there with dazzling white summits. Taking photos was inadvisable because of the border area…it’s a pity!

A few days later, after having skirted around Mount Sabaland and its 4,811 metres, we plunged down towards the Caspian Sea in the middle of green hills drowned in the mist. Did a genie transport us to Ireland? The young delicate green tree leaves shone under the sun. There was something surreal about this descent towards Astara. The next day, a taxi dropped us on the beach in the middle of nowhere. We put on our big bags and joined the seashore. We walked alone most of the time and sometimes met fishermen busy around their wooden boats. On our left was the calm and flat sea and on our right the misty hills.

During our different stops, we heard people speaking about Masuleh. It is a charming village set high up above the Gilan. The welcome there was nice, and we walked from roof to roof to admire the density of the woods that cover the valley and cool down the air at nightfall.
              Masuleh

We went then to the southeast in the direction of Tehran in order to penetrate the mystery of the legendary castles of the Assassins that are hidden in the mist of the valley of Alamut. New shades of brown, rust and green, overlooked by snowy summits exposed themselves to our gaze for miles around…except for when we entered one of those thick clouds that cover the valley. We arrived in Gazor Khan, a village of a few hundred souls, on top of which one of those 1,000 year-old castles stands. The members of an Ismaelian cult used to meet here to foment the assassination of political leaders of the time. The history tells that the volunteers were taking hashish to perpetrate their crimes, hence the name ‘Hashish-lyun’ (the origin of the word ‘assassin’). In the meantime, the Mongols came along. In the 8th century, they put an end to this epic, leaving only ruins behind them.
              The valley of Alamut

A few days later and about 700 kilometres down south, it was a total change of scene. Departing Ispahan, we climbed into a small bus that dashed towards the east. Bit by bit, the housing and the vegetation gave way to a large expanse of black and grey stones. We got off at Toudeshk, a small village at the doors of this particular desert made out of sand and salt: the Dasht-e-Kavir. There, the houses are made of a mix of earth and straw, which is a perfect insulator for this region subject to extreme temperatures. From the top of the dune of dark rocks that dominates the village, the green square of cultivation adjoins the brown square of housing, in the middle of this huge plain edged with a long chain of mountains in the distance. Only the powerful wind and the noise of our steps disturbed the silence that reigned over us.
              Toudeshk

Yet, the surprise was not over: the next day, we went to the bottom of big sand dunes that looked just like you would imagine. Despite the early hour, the sun was already parading high in the sky and made the climb difficult. What a reward when the immensity of the desert cleared in front of us. The group split up, as if each one wished to absorb this infinity on his/her own and stand gazing at this deep silence that overcomes the soul. Here was for us a dreamlike experience of the desert, but we discovered a bit later that it could not last. A bus full of female Iranian students arrived. From as far as we were, we could hear their shouts and laughs. For them, the dunes are a huge playground where they can happily unwind and roll in the sand. Their good mood was infectious. We calmly came down from our retreat to go back to the world of mankind: the town.

At the end of our stay, we went across this desert again in the train that brought us from Yazd to Tehran. It gave us as a last sight a huge plain of sand covered with a coat of fine white salt.

To think we had only travelled a quarter of the country!

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Iran (or Persia)

By Francois on Wednesday, May 27 2009, 18:09 - Journey stories

Our first Iranian stop was Tabriz, located where the doors of the Garden of Eden were, according to the Bible. The town is especially known for having been an important stop on the Silk Road. This famous trading road, that brought back the precious fabric from China, crossed Persia from east to west. We happily lost ourselves in its huge bazaar (‘the biggest bazaar made with bricks in the world’, we were told) where we stocked up with dates, halva and other oriental sweets.
             The bazaar in Tabriz

When opening our ‘Lonely Planet’ during our numerous trips by bus and by train across the country, we discovered the ancient history of Iran, or rather the history of Persia: in 1936, the Shah of Persia (Reza Khan) officially renamed the country ‘Iran’, which means (as near as) ‘Aryans’ country’…probably to align themselves with the political climate at the time. Finally judged too close to Nazi Germany during the Second World War, the British forced him to leave power in order to install his son instead of him (under their control); the name ‘Iran’ stayed.

The history of Persia seemed to us to have a cyclical pattern. A local group or an invader would unify the country, make it a very powerful empire, then this empire would decline before collapsing and being divided up. Another group would then take advantage of the atmosphere of chaos to surface.

The more serious matters started as soon as 550 BC. The Gallic were not in Gaul yet, Rome was only a small city, and Cyrus II the Great founded the biggest empire having ever existed at the time: from Egypt to today’s Pakistan, to the edge of the Danube. Sumptuous parties were organised every year in the capital town Persepolis, where the vassals came to ‘offer’ their tribute to the Emperor. However, the Greek cities resisted and after the defeat of Marathon in 490 BC, the Empire declined progressively until Alexander the Great gave it the coup de grace in 331 BC.
              Darius I receiving homage from a vassal prince

The Seleucids (Greeks) and the Parthians (from the edges of the Aral Sea) founded their own empires, until the Persians took them over in 224 BC. The Sassanids created then the Second Persian Empire. They established Zoroastrism as the state religion. Founded by Zarathustra during the second millenium BC, the main doctrine of this monotheistic religion is the permanent fight between Good and Evil. Its followers were called ‘the worshippers of fire’ because of the holy fire that burnt permanently in their sanctuaries; there are today only a few tens of thousands of them in Iran.

The Empire reached its peak when the Arabs took advantage of a problem of succession in order to seize the whole of Persia in 637 BC without encountering any opposition. The population converted massively to Islam, adopting its minority movement: the Shiism. The meeting of the Persian and Islamic cultures produced a period of intense cultural and artistic development. Unfortunately, from the 9th to the 15th century, the invasions from the Turks Seljukides, Genghis Khan’s Mongols and then from the sanguinary Tamerlan destroyed numerous cities.

When visiting Esfahan, we discovered the splendour of the 3rd Persian Empire founded in 1502 by the Safanides (it is a kind of Persian renaissance). A renowned member of this dynasty, Abbas I the Great, moved the capital town to Ispahan. He undertook to rebuild the city and made it a gem nicknamed ‘the half of the world’ by the visitors filled with wonder (which we were also). The Persian art had then reached its peak. At the death of Abbas, the Afghans invaded the country in 1722.
               Square of the Imam, Esfahan

In the 19th century, the Shahs from the dynasty of Qajars attempted to revive the past splendour: they founded a new capital in the village of Tehran but its high running costs were catastrophic. When we passed Tehran, we visited the Palace of Golestan. It was built with the ambition to rank with the palaces of the European monarchs. It does not mean that the latter were impressed. The Russians annexed the Caucasus and took control of the north of Iran and the British installed themselves in the south.

After the First World War, the Gilan (region along the Caspian Sea) seceded to become a Soviet republic. The British put Reza Khan (a firm-handed officer) at the head of the government in order to restore the country to order and secure a grip on the oil resources of the country…until 1951. The Iranian Prime Minister, Dr Mossadegh, decided then to nationalise the oil industry. The CIA kept an eye open for trouble and in 1953, a coup d’état was organised by the American embassy to rectify the situation. From then on, the British had to share the profits with the Americans.
              The Palace of Golestan

Nowadays, the country is more famous for its original regime of ‘Islamic Republic’. In 1979, the opposition to the Shah had reached a climax: on one side, the Marxists and Liberals who were asking for more reforms; on the other side, the religious groups who wanted a return to tradition. The Shah succeeded in making everybody agree on one point: his necessary departure. The revolution made him flee on 16th January 1979. As soon as the 1st February 1979, the Ayatollah Khomeini (face of the opposition to the Shah) came back from the exile he had been condemned to by the Shah. At the age of 77, he took power, taking advantage of the more or less natural disappearance of the moderate leaders. The Islamic Republic of Iran was proclaimed and the Ayatollah Khomeini became its Supreme Guide. He established the strict application of the charia, the Islamic law, which marked the beginning of the permanent control of all the aspects of the private lives of the population.

In 1980, Saddam Hussein attempted to take advantage of the chaos following the revolution in order to monopolize the oil fields of the Khuzestan, in the southwest of Iran. Eight years of war followed and more than 500,000 deaths on each side for nothing…apart from the fact that the war solidified the new Iranian regime on a long-term basis.

The Ayatollah Khomeini died in 1989. The Ayatollah Khamenei succeeded him as Supreme Guide. In 1997, the Ayatollah Khatami was elected president. As a reformist, he promised the ‘change from inside’. Women could then show their hair, put make-up on…hopes for a relaxing of the regime were big. But the council of the Guardians of the Constitution (directed by the Supreme Guide) kept a watchful eye: it vetoed the reforms and disqualified the reformist deputies for the elections. The Conservatives came to power again and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was elected president in 2005.

François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)
(source : Lonely Planet)

The Iranian currency

By Francois on Wednesday, May 27 2009, 18:05 - Journey stories

When we arrived in Iran, we discovered the Iranian currency: the rial (1 euro= 13,000 rials). And in the first bureau de change we went to, we became acquainted with the simple joy of being millionaires.

We quickly familiarised ourselves with the rate before the first transactions. Because even if the currency in Iran is the rial, everybody actually speaks about ‘tomans’. Knowing that 1 toman= 10 rials, confusion is often possible (is it a bit expensive or really good value?).

We thought we were doing well by learning how to read the price tags written in Iranian numbers (a version of the Arabic numbers distinctly different from ours). It was not to be that easy: while some shopkeepers display their prices in rials, others prefer tomans and some cheerfully combine both.

A headache was in the store for us…and the confusion was total when we met Iranians who, thinking they were making it easier for us, spoke to us in Khomeini (from the name of the famous Ayatollah shown on all the 10,000 rials notes) or in American dollars. In fact, things are simpler than they appear. By a strange irony of history, 1 ‘Khomeini’= 1 US dollar. And this is the standard used by taxi drivers when they raise one or two fingers.
The bazaar in Tabriz

François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

First Day in Iran

By Francois on Wednesday, May 27 2009, 18:01 - Journey stories

We passed the Armeno-Iranian border on 2nd April. Gabrielle arranged her veil and her tunic. We crossed the bridge that stretches across the river Araxe by foot. This river separates the two countries.

We had the feeling of diving into the unknown: we did not know too much about this country and the little information we had got before our departure was a bit contradictory. We were a bit worried, would they let us come into the country? A man in uniform, with perfect English, welcomed us and took our passports. He gave them back to us a few minutes later giving us a big ‘Welcome to Iran!’.

Here we are in Iran! We walked a few metres when the customs officer called us back…would we like a taxi to go to Jolfa?

The taxi driver quickly showed us that Iran is a dangerous country…for its road driving! We drove at breakneck speed, running alongside the border in the middle of lunar landscapes dotted with multicoloured camping tents. All along the river, families were comfortably installed to picnic, their Peugeot cars parked along the road.

About sixty kilometres later, we arrived in Jolfa. We installed ourselves in a modest ‘mosaferkhaneh’ (literally ‘traveller’s house’). When we went out to town, most of the shops were closed. We asked a well-groomed young man (low waist jeans, tectonic hairdo, afro bracelet) to direct us to an Internet café. It was Friday, the weekend! Moreover, it was the last day of the holiday week that follows No Ruz, the Iranian New Year. Everybody had gone away to spend these few days with their families.

We bought some fruit and vegetables at the greengrocer’s. When it was time to pay, he refused our money. Amazed, we accepted with pleasure. Finally, the reception appeared to be a lot warmer than we had imagined. Later, when recalling this incident, we would wonder if this was in fact an example of Ta’arof. This Iranian custom consists of a shopkeeper not making people pay, but the customer is meant to insist on paying, at least three times.

We stopped in a park near the market. A big number of families had settled to picnic. Some of them had even put up their tents. We were sharing our bananas between us when a small bald man approached us with a big smile: ‘Follow me!’. He was friendly; we picked up our belongings and followed him. We noticed that all his family were observing the scene from where they were, laughing. There we were, invited for tea.

In broken English, we were introduced to each other. Lawyer, engineer or teacher, they had come to spend their No Ruz holidays in Jolfa. They offered us fruit and pistachios, disappointed they were not able to give us more. These people were a long way from the strict lifestyle clichés about Iran. If it was not for the omnipresent veil for women, we might have had the feeling of meeting other Europeans. However, at the end of the snack and when it was time to say goodbye, women shook Gabrielle’s hand and men shook mine. We had well left Armenia and its big hugging and kissing.

$Rencontres à Jolfa\090504 Rencontres à Jolfa, mai 2009$ Encounters in Jolfa

François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Tuesday, May 26 2009

A Day to The Ends of The World

By Francois on Tuesday, May 26 2009, 15:30 - Journey stories

After a week visiting the SPFA in Khatchen and Khnabad, Rosane offered us a touristic day to discover the wonders of Karabakh. With two of her friends, Advid and Gahen, we piled into the small Lada 4WD with a voluminous picnic basket and left to go to the monastery of Dadivank.

We drove to the lake of Sarsang, in the north of the Karabakh. After that, there was the gold mine of Drmbon. So the car left the impeccable back road to drive towards the west on a road full of potholes that wound its way along a small river.

The lake of Sarsang

We arrived at the monastery of Dadivank. Nestled in the bend of a mountain, it dominates the whole valley. We were the only tourists that day. An old lady from the next hamlet came to sell us ritual candles (to buy and light in the religious buildings that people visit). She strived to speak to us in Russian, despite our many ‘ruski niet’s. And she seemed disconcerted that we could not understand a word of Russian.

Dadivank

The visit there was over and the car left for the west. It was after 2pm and we were patiently waiting for Advid to park the car in a nature spot for the promised picnic, but he kept on driving…

The road entered an ancient tunnel, cut directly in the rock, and changed into a path running at the bottom of a narrow canyon. We crossed the river on a bridge made of reinforced concrete (so old that the steel rods seemed to want to escape). The car crossing made the rods clink together with a metallic noise. We slowly went deeper towards the unknown while enjoying the beauty of the landscape surrounding us.

We had left the theoretical borders of the High Karabakh for two hours. And now, we were in this little part of Azerbaijan that separated Karabakh and Armenia during the war. We were in a country that does not exist, and we were driving in the middle of nowhere…

Landscape in the middle of nowhere

At last, we arrived at a large clearing. To our great surprise, despite the kilometres covered in almost virgin nature, we were not the only ones there. Two other cars were stopped there, and their occupants were bathing in a crater where bubbling water spurted out from the depths of the Earth.

When the boot opened, we discovered what the word ‘picnic’ means for the Armenians. Nothing was missing, not even the bundle of sticks provided for the cooking of rolovatz (Armenian skewers).

Gahen checking the cooking

We had never seen skewers cooked so carefully (but was the word ‘skewer’ enough to translate what was to come?).

Armenian picnic

After the meal: bathing in the thermal spring that was giving us the eye since our arrival. We dipped ourselves slowly into the deliciously scalding water…Life is beautiful!

We left at the close of the day. This time, Gahen was driving. Despite all the potholes, which were hard to avoid at night, some fell asleep and the others became absorbed in their thoughts after this beautiful day spent together.

François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Monday, May 25 2009

SPFA Karabakh

By Gabrielle on Monday, May 25 2009, 15:15 - The bringers of hope

SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France Armenia) started its activities in Armenia in Gumri in 1990. In 2004, the association turned its activities towards the High Karabakh. This self-governing province of Azerbaijan (populated with Armenians) proclaimed its independence in 1991. A three-year war followed, causing numerous casualties and destruction. The Karabakh recovered bit by bit from this war. Rosane, a young woman from the SPFA Yerevan team, went to Stepanakert (the capital town) to found a new office.

With Rosane and Jacques Matossian

She started by developing French-speaking activities. She created in particular a library where young children of the area can come to read books in French and have fun. We participated with lots of pleasure in the workshop activities that take place every day of the week after school. We met children who were happy to be there and ready to discover everything that was on offer.

The adventure in Khatchen started as soon as 2004 with a beautiful objective: help the village to take off and allow its 372 inhabitants to stay on their lands. Khatchen is part of the main villages drawn to the attention of NGOs by the authorities of the High Karabakh. Located about twenty kilometres from Stepanakert and easily accessible by car, this village meets all the optimal follow-up conditions. So Rosane can go there once or twice a week. She told us she knows every inhabitant’s name! For a year now, SPFA has achieved all of its projects in Khatchen, and continues to do so.

Rosane and an inhabitant from Khatchen

It was 10am and we were on time to go and visit Khatchen. On our way there, we were able to enjoy the beauty of the Karabakh’s landscape.

Khatchen

Upon arrival, we discovered the charm of this quiet little village. The car stopped in front of the town hall where Ernest Grigorian welcomed us. Mayor since 2004, he has been in collaboration with SPFA from the beginning of the project: sponsoring destitute families, renovation of the water network and the church, construction of the kindergarten, setting up of the micro credits, etc. The intervention of SPFA is total, and reflects well its philosophy of action: ‘we have to do everything or nothing’, Rosane told us. By fighting one by one all of the problems in a given village, SPFA gave itself the means to bring back good conditions of life to the inhabitants (sparing them tough departures to the capital town or abroad).

This philosophy is also applied by Jacques Matossian (responsible for the projects of SPFA) to the work he does. The church, which was used as a barn during the Soviet period, had a magic wand waved at it in 2006. Now, it cuts a fine figure with its stone vaults and its sculpted wood doors. The inhabitants show the importance of having rediscovered both a spiritual centre and a meeting place.

The church of Khatchen

Jacques Matossian did not come for the church but to renovate the water network so that people could have running water 24 hours a day (which is rare in Armenia). Once the reservoir was installed, all the villagers were invited to dig the trench connecting their houses to the main network. This is another key point of the way SPFA intervenes: the beneficiaries of the projects have to participate in its making as far as they are able to.

Rosane likes the spirit of initiative of the inhabitants of Khatchen and their will to go forward together. Her slogan is: ‘we must listen to people, they know what they need’. To help SPFA organising and orientating its actions, the decisions are taken by a council that brings together the inhabitants, the elected representatives and the members of SPFA.

In 2004, SPFA started its action by looking to reduce poverty. A few families are sponsored directly by the association; some others are chosen to receive a cow, of which the first calf will be given to another family, and so on.

Soon after, the inhabitants asked the association to give them the means to create their income themselves. SPFA donated a harvester and a tractor to the village. The town hall rents them to the farmers. The latter, assured to have the right tools to harvest, do not hesitate to sow anymore. The town hall uses the money from the rent to help old people.

In 2008, to go further towards the creation of activity, SPFA set up a program of granting micro credits (loans of small amounts of money attributed to people who cannot get regular bank loans). After having explained how that worked, the association studied the projects introduced by the people interested in it (purchase of cattle or seeds). Those accepted receive $1,000 to pay back over a period of three years interest-free. Groups of three to five united people are formed and the town hall is also a guarantor in case of a borrower’s default.
We met Arthur. Thanks to the micro credits he benefits from, he owns two cows and ten calves. He is happy to have both an income to support his family and a job he can put a lot into.

Arthur

Allowing children to go to school and study in good conditions is another essential requirement for the support of families in the village and an investment of priority status for the future. We headed for the kindergarten.

The director showed us the brand new premises built last year by Jacques Matossian’s team. When we arrived, the children were in the middle of their lunch. They were enjoying the potatoes from the garden that the teaching team cultivates during its free time to improve everyday fare.

This is all thanks to SPFA and the government of Karabakh, which has financed half of the construction. The logic is the same for all the interventions concerning the public infrastructure. SPFA always tries to involve the authorities with the constructions. And it never starts building without the assurance that the authorities will take care of the running costs.

At the entry of the village is the school. To give it more income, SPFA donated ten beehives. Thanks to the sale of honey, the school opened a cafeteria where the students are welcomed everyday with free school meals. The generated income also contributes to renewing the equipment and textbooks. Today, 24 beehives produce 180 kilos of honey every year. The kilo being 2,500 drams, it represents 450,000 drams per year (about €1,000) – the capital investment is €100 per beehive. We tasted this delicious honey with the mayor on the occasion of a ‘small’ Armenian coffee.

Armed with this success, in 2008, the school opened a workshop to build its own beehives with the help of SPFA. Apiculture is now a subject taught during the handicrafts classes.

(Photos: SPFA)

At the end of our visit, Rosane told us proudly that the number of students in the school went from 42 to 48 this year. This is a sign that the work of SPFA is bearing fruit! ‘As long as the children are here, the village cannot die’.

SPFA managed its projects in Khatchen by dint of perseverance and talks with the inhabitants. But it did so also to convince the financial donators to support them. Not being recognised by the State, the High Karabakh cannot count on any kind of subvention from the international community. SPFA turns towards private financing and thanks as such the foundation Suisse Armenianos.

The story does not end there. In Khnabad, it is only starting. This village of 1,000 inhabitants, at the border with Azerbaijan, suffered a lot from the war. A part of the school was destroyed during the bombings. The director, Zaven Beglarian, showed us the current projects with SPFA. The outside pond will be renovated in order to irrigate the fruit trees in the garden, the sale of which will generate income for the school. A donation of ten beehives is expected, as done in Khatchen. New bathrooms will also be built.

In 2008, SPFA had already done the renovation of the water network in the village. This year, SPFA is organising the sponsoring of three families, the purchase of sheep and cows for eleven families, and two micro credits for a common poultry farm. Numerous other projects await financing, like the renovation of the school roofing that shows serious signs of weakness.

The inhabitants we met gladly engaged in conversation with us and did not let us go without giving us a few sweets. After such a welcome, we can only wish them and SPFA as much success as in Khatchen!

How to help

Rosane gave us very concrete possibilities to support the action of SPFA in Karabakh:

Volunteer activity leaders for the holiday camps that take place every year for a week in July. French-speaking volunteers of SPFA will accompany them. It is a great occasion to discover the beauty of Karabakh!
Second-hand sleeping bags for the holiday camps.
Children’s books in order to renew the stock of the library in the centre of Stepanakert.
Financing for the projects in Khnabad.

Contacts

SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France Armenia) in France
1 rue Cabanis / 75014 Paris
E-mail : Paris@spfa-armenie.org
Website : www.spfa-armenie.org
Telephone : +33 1 47 35 30 23
Fax : +33 1 53 80 19 49

SPFA in Karabakh
5, rue Maschots / Stepanakert
E-mail : armrouz@yahoo.fr
Telephone : +374 97 26 77 67

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Tuesday, May 5 2009

The High Karabakh

By Francois on Tuesday, May 5 2009, 07:54 - Journey stories

Sunday 22nd March

We left for the High Karabakh, a day earlier than the date authorised on our visas, in order to meet Jacques Matossian from SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France-Armenia) as he was leaving this region the next day. This detail of the visas did not bother the customs officer when we went through the passport check. We entered this ‘non existing’ country on a beautiful cloudless day. The High Karabakh, or officially ‘Republic of Nagorno Karabakh’, is one of the self-proclaimed countries in the Caucasus. It is not recognised as such by any other countries in the world, not even Armenia.

Flag of Karabakh

Around us, spring had already come unlike in Armenia. The trees were budding and some of them were even blossoming. We drove around magnificent landscapes in the middle of luxuriant nature. In a combination of Turkish and Persian, Karabakh means ‘black garden’. It evokes both the fertility of the ground and the wooded blanket that stands out against the bare mountains of the surrounding regions.

Landscape of Karabakh

This small ‘country’ (about 145,000 inhabitants and 4,400 square kilometres) is a territory populated with Armenians and was incorporated into the Soviet Republic of Azerbaijan during the Soviet period. With the fall of the USSR in 1991, the High Karabakh declared its independence from Azerbaijan. A three-year war followed, during which Armenia and Azerbaijan confronted each other in a violent way. Though smaller and less well equipped, the Armenian forces won in 1994 and a ceasefire was signed between the countries. It confirmed the de facto independence of the High Karabakh.

The High Karabakh nowadays (source: Wikipedia)

It is estimated that there were 30,000 dead from the war on each side (the total Armenian population is about three millions). The number of refugees is even more appalling: 400,000 Armenians and 800,000 Azeris left their houses in order not to be behind the enemy lines. When we visited the village of Khnabad, we could see in the distance the ghost town of Agdam. It used to be a prosperous Azeri city of 100,000 inhabitants. The advance of the Armenian forces caused the exodus of the inhabitants. Without a final resolution to the conflict, the town has been abandoned since 1994 and has fallen in ruins.

The ghost town of Agdam

The ancient history of the High Karabakh merges with that of Armenia. During our tours, the monasteries and numerous ‘khatchkars’ (stone crosses) reminded us of Armenia. It was the same currency and the same language. It was like we were still in Armenia.

Khatchkars in the monastery of Gandzassar

At the exit of Stepanakert, the capital town (45,000 people), the statue ‘Tatik and Papik’ (‘Grandmother and Grandfather’) is a symbol of the invincibility of the Karabakhtis and its motto is: “We are our mountains”.

Tatik and Papik, “We are our mountains”

We found in Karabakh the same warm welcome we had in Armenia, and the same tradition of generosity. The main difficulty for the Karabakh is its isolation as the only open border is the one shared with Armenia. Despite its status as a self-proclaimed republic and the suspended conflict with Azerbaijan, the atmosphere is serene and relaxed. We did not feel any tension anywhere. When we left the High Karabakh (this time our visas expired by one day), the same customs officer recognised us and gave us a big smile. He seemed surprised when we asked him if it was a problem that our visas were expired.

François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

The fish farm in Vorotan

By Francois on Tuesday, May 5 2009, 07:23 - The bringers of hope

Before going to Karabakh, we stopped in Goris. From there, we went to the village of Vorotan, about ten kilometres south of the town. We met Kamo Baghdassaryan. He is skilled in fish farming and is trying to restore the fish farm of Vorotan to life.

The fish farm in Vorotan

The creation of this farm originally arose from a governmental program to develop the region. The project was abandoned during the war in Karabakh. The village, 300 metres from the border with Azerbaijan, was the target for bombings because it was close to the hydroelectric plant supplying Goris. After the war, the Azeri population in Vorotan left Armenia to go to Azerbaijan or Russia. Some of the Armenian refugees that were in Azerbaijan settled in the village. They did not have the knowledge nor the means necessary to take on the farm business.

For a year and a half now, Kamo Baghdassaryan has been leading a team of ten volunteers in the village. They work in order to restore the farm and to progressively revive the fish farming. To build their life and create their jobs, the volunteers did not hesitate to advance the initial capital for the restoration of the ponds and the purchase of the first young fish. They also installed a breeding pond for hatching.

A future resident of the farm

Today, the farm keeps 7,000 little fish. For the moment, the production is not sufficient for selling but it allows the volunteers’ families to be fed as they are paid with fish. The farm also honours the traditional Armenian generosity by supplying the destitute, the retired and war widows with free fish when they have important celebrations (weddings, funerals, etc.).

Kamo Baghdassaryan at work

The volunteer work of the team led by Kamo Baghdassaryan allowed the renovation of the farm and its running. Today, the volunteers struggle to buy enough food so that the fish can be rapidly fully grown. This problem delays the first sale that could generate the necessary working capital to launch the farm on a long-term basis. It would eventually also provide the volunteers with a stable salary. These difficulties do not wear down the determination of these people who know that the future of Vorotan depends on their success.

It is indeed a very promising project. In the valley of Vorotan, the conditions for farming are most favourable: the climate and the sunlight are particularly adapted for this activity. And the water that supplies the ponds comes directly from the surrounding mountains. The fish farm could supply the whole area of Syunnick (140 000 inhabitants) with fish; at the moment, the fish sold in Goris comes generally from Yerevan and that makes it a relatively expensive meal.

How to help

The volunteers of the farm need a bit of a boost to buy enough food for the fish in order to get a first big ‘harvesting’ and perpetuate the activity.

The fish farm of Vorotan also needs help with the renovation of some of the ponds that are still in bad condition. They do not lack volunteers but money to buy materials and spare parts.

Contact

To contact the team of the fish farm, ask for Gagyk Mkrtchyan (engineer in the hydroelectric plant close to Vorotan). He speaks German and Russian (as well as Armenian), and can understand French and English a bit.

E-mail : vorotanges@mail.ru
Factory address: 2 Gr.Tatevacy str. Goris t. R of A 377830
Telephone
• Factory: +374 12 85 113 / +374 84 22 030
• Mobile: +374 84 09 46 47 99

François
(Translation: Yolène Dabreteau)

Wednesday, April 15 2009

Let’s go to Moreni!

By Gabrielle on Wednesday, April 15 2009, 17:01 - Journey stories

On Tuesday 17th March, after a long and festive weekend, we went south to Moreni. It is a small village far from the hustle and bustle of big cities, a few kilometres from Sissian. This is where we met our friends from Yerevan on our first trip to Armenia. We came back to visit Nektar.

The road was full of surprises, with a magnificent view of Mount Ararat that exposed itself to our gaze during the first part of our trip. Its whiteness shone under a splendid blue sky. From the window of the taxi, we made repeated attempts to photograph the scenery under the taxi driver’s entertained eye. The trip continued across the mountains: we went ever higher, had a coffee break, then another break to fill up…at the gas station!

Mount Ararat (Sis and Massis) covered in snow

We had travelled half of the way when the sky became overcast…then the clouds got thicker. It was not long before we started driving in such thick fog that we could not see beyond two metres. It started snowing heavily. Thankfully, the sun came back and this thick white curtain cleared away to open out on an incredible desert of sparkling snow! It was beautiful and almost unreal.

We arrived in Sissian where we had to get another taxi. The way to Moreni is worn away due to the heavy snowfalls. A little old man agreed to bring us there. He happily stopped the car to let us take pictures of the scenery around us. We walked the few last metres…it is impossible to go up with a car!

We took a few steps while appreciating the calm atmosphere and the ambient air in the middle of the mountains. Nektar had made us a delicious meal with all the products handmade by her throughout the year: soujour, pasturma, cheese, mushrooms, marinated peppers, etc. Everything was delicious and 100% organic, including the cherry wine with which we toasted to our reunion. Then, we went to the room with the stove in order to have some mountain herb tea, in company of…a calf! Indeed! It was too cold and the cowshed had collapsed recently. For the calf to survive, he stayed in the house next to the fire. Another birth was expected and the mother was due during our stay.

We also experienced something new for us: with Nektar, her cousin Seda and their friend Rosane, we took part in the making of the Armenian traditional bread, the lavash, a tradition that took place with good humour.
You will not be able to taste our efforts but you can watch its making.

Making of the lavash

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Ekho

By Gabrielle on Wednesday, April 15 2009, 16:25 - The bringers of hope

Ekho is an association founded in July 2008 to help disabled children in the village of Darbnik, about ten kilometres from Yerevan.

Angela has lived there for 20 years. Her son Serguei, who is 18 years old and has a motor disability, gave her the idea and courage to create this association. This is because there was no help service for disabled children in this district. The closest hospitals and boarding schools are in Yerevan, and the families did not have the means to travel there easily.

Angela, Mariam in Yerevan and a friend in Darbnik introduced themselves to the families and started to help them by distributing clothes and food. Then, they organised afternoon teas, evenings at the theatre, etc. They achieved all this work by appealing to Armenian businessmen’s generosity.

Christening of the children supported by Ekho

Today, 180 children (most of them with motor or mental disabilities) are registered on their list; new applications reach them everyday.

Their action did not stop at this level. Ekho alone organised the set up of a special school in Darbnik. There, about thirty disabled children are welcomed and accommodated from Monday to Friday. The vocation of this centre is to lavish needed care on the children and to prepare them for their autonomous lives. In this sense, different classes and activities are offered to the children: language classes, computer classes, cooking, sewing, singing, sport, etc.

To supervise the children, the association plans to get a team of ten people in the end (three doctors and seven teachers). Regarding the maintenance of the premises and the preparation of meals, Ekho will call on the parents that are already volunteers. Angela explained to us that this is their contribution to the running of the centre because they cannot afford to pay for the subscription. Regarding the supplies, Ekho plans to look after a vegetable and fruit garden, and to buy two cows for their milk and derivatives.

In order to achieve this project, the women from Ekho secured the use of premises from the authorities of the district. We went to visit these premises with them. They consist of the first floor of a former student residential building. Destitute families are also accommodated there.

When we arrived, we were brought back to reality by seeing this old building in a pitiful state. Inside was not much better as all the rooms need to be renovated. This is a lot of work ahead, but it does not seem to discourage these ladies. They showed us which areas would be the future bedrooms, communal room, kitchen, bathrooms, etc. On the ground floor, they showed us the planned locations for the gym and the ramp.

At the same time, we met the parents that had come to share their hopes and expectations regarding the opening of the centre for their children.

With little money and not much experience, Angela, Serguei and Mariam embarked on a complex and ambitious project. By dint of perseverance, they removed the obstacles one after the other. The most difficult part is still to be done; the renovation of the building needs big investments. Ekho already has sponsors, some of them being construction companies ready to help them. Angela and Mariam are still looking for financing in order to begin the work. They also need support from people that could give them advice to see their project through.

Gabrielle with the Ekho team

Contacts

E-mail : ekho_so@mail.ru
Telephone :
• Office: +374 77 26 45 94
• Mariam: +374 77 26 45 94 (speaks English fluently)

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Monday, April 13 2009

Delights of Armenia

By Gabrielle on Monday, April 13 2009, 17:54 - Journey stories

Armenians have a secret: they seize the day. Add to that an extraordinary sense of hospitality, and here you are, sitting at tables filled with delicious dishes at anytime of the day and wherever you are.

‘Little’ coffee with the mayor of Khatchen

During our visits to villages, after a few chats together, the inhabitants invited us spontaneously to have a ‘little’ coffee with them. It was impossible to refuse as the table was already set for us. Do not trust the word ‘little’ here, as the coffee is never served on its own. A selection of delicacies comes with it: sweets, chocolates, pieces of fresh fruit, sunflower seeds, etc. The mayor of the village, the director of the school and the director of the boarding school we met always had an extra-special bottle of brandy for us to taste. When it felt like our mouths were on fire, they told us not to worry, that it was 100% natural!

Our friends invited us to big celebrations where family and friends got together. We entered their universe: in the middle of the dining-room, the big dining table was already set with a myriad of little dishes that gave us the eye. Each guest had a small plate and picked up what they liked. What dish to start with? Cheese (panir) rolled in lavash* with herbs (coriander, tarragon, onions, etc.)? Hmm… Or some pickles: cabbage, bamias*, crocus bulbs, peppers, big Molossol gherkins? Or maybe these little mushrooms picked up in the mountains? Or the soujour* and the pasturma* sliced thinly? But already, more dishes were being brought to us. Where would our hosts put them down?

The dolmas, a mixture of wheat (or rice) and meat rolled in vine leaves or cabbage, are absolutely delicious. Another version, in the shape of morsels rolled in pasta and steamed, reminded us of Asian food. The traditional dish of herbs cooked with eggs was also brought on the table.

Meat lovers were not disappointed. Armenians are specialists in preparing rolovats (large meat skewers covered in spices and roasted carefully on iron skewers – essential tools for picnics) and kebabs when it is made with minced meat. It was not possible to go through a whole week without eating keftas (boiled meatballs and onions, served with a good amount of butter). These different dishes were often served with delicious roasted potatoes.

In restaurants, we tasted lamajos (crusty pancakes filled with minced meat). There is also a vegetarian version of it, called gigalovats, which comes with a mix of all kinds of aromatic herbs (this is a specialty from Karabakh sold in markets).

Of course, we cannot speak about these delicious dishes without mentioning the drinks that come with them! Two glasses would be standing in front of each of us: a small one and a big one. The big one is kept for thirst-quenching drinks: Jermuk (the sparkling water of choice for Armenians), delicious natural fruit juices (cherry, apricot, etc.), Armenian beer. The small glass (for the anecdote) is used for spirits: Armenian cognac, vodka or local brandy (sometimes wine for women). During the numerous toasts that punctuated the meal, we raised this glass to mothers and children’s health, to the Franco-Armenian friendship, and to everything we wanted to wish to each other.

The evenings livened up quickly. From time to time, we all stood up to dance, men as much as women. To the beat of oriental music, arms rose up and waved graciously by drawing many arabesques in the air. Then the desserts would be brought to the table: famous very sweet small pastries that we enjoyed (they are a bit like baklavas). Then, we had coffee and tea always served with excellent jams. The meals often started early around 5pm, and we left each other sometimes after midnight without having seen the time flying.

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

*Lavash: bread in the shape of large and thin pancakes (see the video ‘Making of lavash’).
*Bamias: small green conical hairy vegetables that are a bit sticky.
*Soujour and pasturma: variety of spiced sausages.

Saturday, April 11 2009

SPFA Gumri – Health, education and social actions

By Gabrielle et François on Saturday, April 11 2009, 19:30 - The bringers of hope

Apart from its water supply projects, SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France-Armenia) has been carrying out numerous jobs to give the population the means to recover from the earthquake in Gumri since 1990. We went for a visit across the town accompanied by Gagik Papikian and Lilith Haroutunian.

First step: the hospital for infectious disease in the Ani district. Karine Tonoyan, the director, greeted us in order to tell us about the actions led by SPFA in her hospital since 1997.

As well as installation of a drinking water supply for the hospital, SPFA contributed greatly to its renovation. From 1997 to 1998, the association financed and organised the replacement of 1,500 square metres of roofing (structure and roof covering). The patients could then be treated in a dry place. Then, the laboratory and the bathroom installations in the hospital were renovated. At last, in 2008, SPFA installed a heating system and replaced 150 windows. Beforehand, the team of doctors and nurses had to work with coats during the wintertime.

We continued our visit to the hospital Samariter where Raphael Katchatarian, the director, introduced us to the work carried out by SPFA.

In 2005, the association contributed to the installation of the haemodialysis unit, the only one in Gumri. Beforehand, patients had to go to Yerevan to be treated, and a lot of them could not go there through lack of money. Reminder: the haemodialysis is necessary for patients with kidney trouble (kidney transplants are forbidden in Armenia). Without it, their life expectancy is limited and they suffer a lot. A haemodialysis session lasts four hours, and has to be done three times a week.

In 2008, the association renovated and fitted out the cardiology and intensive care units. The association collects the necessary equipment in France, where the current standards limit the useful life of hospital machinery.

We then came to the brand new reception centre Pyunnick for disabled children. Beside it stood an old building in ruins: it is hard to believe it used to be the former reception centre. The day when Aram Khatachatarian brought Jacques Matossian in this centre did not leave the latter unmoved. Thanks to his work, the new building opened in 2007.

Centre Pyunnick ancien et nouveau, mar. 2009

The former building and the new building of the Pyunnick centre

The director of the Pyunnick centre, Armine Nikhogossian, welcomed us. At the time of the earthquake, she lost two children and both her legs. For more than ten years now, she has been using all her energy championing the integration of disabled children. Today, the centre welcomes 250 children in the best conditions. The only thing the director lacks is a minibus to pick them up. This service is actually provided by volunteers who have cars.

The following day, Gagik Papikian brought us to visit the centre Endanik. This large building welcomes 1,300 children for extracurricular activities. A second building is actually being renovated to increase the amount of accommodation. We were impressed by the equipment available for the children and by the quality of the work done. We thought we were mistaken by the translation and that it was in fact a professional school, but it was indeed a centre for children!

Activities in the centre Endanik

The visit went on with the charity restaurant opened by SPFA in 1996. 160 retired and disabled people are welcomed there for lunchtime everyday. But because of the lack of money, the restaurant can only be open seven months a year. It was time for lunch and we were invited to share the meal.

How to help the association

The SPFA centre in Gumri specialises in the construction and renovation of infrastructures. The objective of the association is to provide equipment for which the maintenance and functioning have to be done by the local authorities afterwards. During our visits, we noticed the quality of the work done and of the equipment provided. The people we met showed their satisfaction and acknowledgement towards SPFA. To continue such projects, the association needs financing and medical equipment.

The association conducts, in parallel with development actions, humanitarian actions destined for more vulnerable people. To that end, the association is interested in donations of clothes and shoes.

Contacts

SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France Armenia)
1 rue Cabanis / 75014 Paris / France
E-mail : Paris@spfa-armenie.org
Website : www.spfa-armenie.org
Telephone : +33 1 47 35 30 23
Fax : +33 1 53 80 19 49

Gabrielle and François
(Translation: Yolene Dabreteau)

Sunday, April 5 2009

SPFA Gumri – Water 24 hours a day

By Gabrielle et François on Sunday, April 5 2009, 19:12 - The bringers of hope

SPFA has existed in Gumri since 1990. Its objective there is to help the town recover from the earthquake that devastated it in 1988. We heard about this association through a project that allowed all the inhabitants of a district of Gumri, called ‘Ani’, to get access to running water 24 hours a day; we wanted to know more about it…

We had only just arrived when Aram Khatchatarian shared his adventure with us, interpreted by Lilith Haroutunian. Gagik Papikian, civil engineer for SPFA, took us off for a visit of the area.

Gagik Papikian, Aram Khatchatarian and Lilith Haroutunian of SPFA Gumri

In 1997, faced with the poor access to running water that inhabitants of Gumri were enduring, SPFA decided to give priority to the improvement of the supplying of drinking water. Water used to be available only two hours per day in each district, when the water available in the mountains could have been enough to supply four towns like Gumri! Some buildings did not have access to running water at all. This situation was explained by the numerous leaks due to the poor quality of the pipe network, which was rebuilt too quickly after the earthquake, and also due to the overconsumption of water in houses.

Under the direction of Jacques Matossian, the project ‘Water and Health’ started in 1997 in the hospital for infectious disease in the Ani district with the support of the Water Agency Seine-Normandy. SPFA renovated the pipe network, built a 30,000 litre reservoir to supply the hospital 24 hours a day, and installed a ultrafiltering machine for drinking water. Residents could also benefit from these improvements thanks to an outside fountain. Gagik Papikian has kept this sophisticated machinery maintained since it was installed.

Between 2000 and 2003, SPFA installed six kilometres of pipes through the town to supply schools and hospitals - its priority being the supplying of public infrastructures.

Ani district

Then, Jacques Matossian decided to take on the supplying of running water for inhabitants. For this ambitious project, he chose the Ani district and its 25,000 inhabitants wishing to make it a model for the rest of the town.

In 2001, he managed to harness the technical competencies of professionals from Aquassistance. Aquassistance is an association specialising in water supply. Then, he managed to put together the necessary funds with the help of the Foundation Armenianos Liechtenstein, the French government and the Water Agency Seine-Normandy. The work could now begin.

Under the direction of Dominique Chenille, the Aquassistance team conducted a ground study that revealed some important problems in the matter of loss in the network. The loss was 80% due to critical leaks because of the bad condition of pipes. Moreover, it turned out there was an awful waste of water in households. Installations were in bad conditions, and inhabitants were paying a fixed price per person for water. That led to bad consumption habits: flushes were running permanently, taps were left open the whole day to signal when the water was running in the district and to fill the bathtub that was used as a water tank. In a lot of buildings, inhabitants that were in upper levels had no water because of the overconsumption in lower levels. Altogether, the average consumption of water was about 1,000 to 1,500 litres per person a day (when the international standards are 100 litres).

Equipped with their metal detectors, the specialists of Aquassistance started to look for and suppress water leaks in the network. By 2003, the water network in the Ani district was entirely renovated.

Then, they had to convince the inhabitants of the district to install water metres in their houses. In order to do that, a public awareness campaign was raised in order to prove to the inhabitants that they would not pay more by checking their water consumption with simple means, and that the savings made would allow everyone to access water 24 hours a day. They managed to win them over and 10,000 individual water metres offered by Aquassistance were installed. The town hall also gave Aquassistance a list of 1,500 economically weak homes for which the installation was offered free of charge.

In the streets of the Ani district

Thanks to this work, in 2005, the average consumption per inhabitant in the Ani district was divided by more than 10, and was then 100 litres per person per day. 20,000 to 30,000 cubic metres of water were saved this way everyday in the Ani district alone. This saved water could be then redistributed to the other districts of the town while waiting for the renovations of their network.

At last, the water supply is assured 24 hours a day in the Ani district, which is unique in Gumri and extremely rare in Armenia. This comfort represents a priceless luxury for the inhabitants. The gratitude of the inhabitants is shown with the rate of receipts of payments for bills: the water company counts only 5% of unpaid bills in the Ani district. The maintenance of the network in Ani is auto-financed by the payment of the inhabitants’ consumption.

At the end of 2005, despite everything, there was an important differential between the amount of water running in the district and the consumption registered on the water metres. By dint of search, an important leak was finally identified. Its repair allowed some water savings sufficient to extend the project to the districts of Mouch 1 and Mouch 2.
Good news: when we met Jacques Matossian in Stepanakert (High Karabakh), he informed us that he had just received a part of the 140,000 euro necessary via the Water Agency Seine-Normandy. This meant the building work could start.

In the meantime, no rest…
In 2006, SPFA made possible the supplying of water 24 hours a day in the hospital of Samariter in Gumri thanks to two 5,000 cubic metre water tanks, and installed an ultrafiltering machine for the new haemodialysis unit (which the association also finances).

The supply of water should not be reserved only for the inhabitants of towns. Armed with new financing, and with the same will to take action, Jacques Matossian and Dominique Chenille went this time in the direction of the mountains to install running water in Lernout in 2006, and in Djadour in 2007 (two villages close to Gumri).
In Lernout, they first had to build the route that would make possible the harnessing of water. Then, they installed a new reservoir and renovated the central pipe system. After that, it was up to the inhabitants to start digging themselves the trench in which to lay the connection to their house.

The water projects of SPFA look beyond the region of Gumri. In 2007 and 2008, the association began water projects in the villages of Khatchen and Khanbad, in the High Karabakh. That was again done in collaboration with Aquassistance.

Jacques Matossian would like all the Armenians to have access to running water. He knows that this dream might take a few more years before happening. He is looking for a volunteer project engineer to one day pass on the mission.

The Gumri Centre also conducts projects in the health and education domain. To be continued…

Contacts

SPFA (Solidarité Protestante France Arménie)
Email : Paris@spfa-armenie.org
Website : www.spfa-armenie.org
Telephone : +33 1 47 35 30 23
Fax : +33 1 53 80 19 49

Aquassistance
Email : contact@aquassistancenet.org
Website : http://aquassistance-en.blogspirit.com
Telephone : +33 1 58 18 50 36
Fax : +33 1 58 18 46 87

Gabrielle and François
(Translation: Yolène Dabreteau)

Saturday, March 28 2009

Gumri

By Francois on Saturday, March 28 2009, 13:44 - Journey stories

We left Vanadzor to go to Gumri in order to visit the work carried out by SPFA (Protestant Solidarity France-Armenia) in this town.

The town of Gumri was entirely devastated in 1988 due to an earthquake (6.9 on the Richter scale) that killed about 30 000 people and injured more than 15 000 people. Beforehand, the town had 250 000 inhabitants and was an important industrial centre for Armenia; its textile industrial complex was number three in the USSR. Today, there are 130 000 inhabitants and the economical activity has slowed down.

After the earthquake, each republic of the USSR contributed to the reconstruction of the town, area by area. Gagik Papikian, called Gagou, the engineer for SPFA, led us to the reservoir of Gumri to show us an installation done by the association. We could see in the distance the areas of Mouch 1 and Mouch 2 where ghost buildings stand in the middle of ripped fields.
After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the renovation work stopped suddenly. And the Mouch districts, which were then being renovated, were left unfinished. Furthermore, all the arable earth was brought elsewhere during the excavation work. As a result, the area is not even suitable for agriculture.

Mouch districts

After the visit to the reservoir, Kagou drove us outside the town, in the direction of the Turkish border. We left the road to follow a dirt track that vanished in the middle of rubble. We drove to an old quarry where the debris of the buildings were disposed of after the earthquake. At a twist of the road, we could see in the distance a typical Armenian church tower. This was a surprise from Kagou, who mixed business with pleasure by bringing us sightseeing. We arrived at the Monastery of Marmashen. It is more than a thousand years old (its construction started in 986 A.D.). Beside the church, a river flows out in the middle of steep gorges. The peaceful atmosphere of the location made us take a deep breath. What a contrast to the sinister atmosphere in the quarry! It is like a pearl in its casing.

The Monastery in Marmashen

We returned to SPFA by going through the city centre. Kagou explained to us that before there were 15 to 20 storey buildings standing there…now, there are none left. The old Gumri is partially renovated but there is still a lot to be done and the building carries on. Beside churches, knocked down church towers are kept as a reminder of the tremendous impact of the earthquake.

We were going to Gumri in order to visit projects led by the SPFA. The earthquake of 1988 was for us a piece of information that was at first just a number. Through our visits and conversations with the members of the association (despite their great modesty), we understand better the extent of the disaster.
During the last 20 years, the town also had to face the fall of the Soviet Union then the war against Azerbaijan. Men and women with goodwill fight to lift the town up again. And gradually, hope is revived thanks to their energy and perseverance.

François
(Translation: Yolène Dabreteau)

Visit of the kindergarten in Metzamor

By Gabrielle on Saturday, March 28 2009, 13:37

Metzamor is a small town located about twenty kilometres from Yerevan. We went there, with Karine and Lamara of the CRPCF, to visit the kindergarten they support in the context of their child protection activities.
We followed them without really knowing what we were about to see. We drove into an unattractive district, where there stand huge black buildings in bad condition. I was about to take a picture of an old kindergarten with its rusty merry-go-round when the car stopped. I understood we had arrived at the schoolyard…

The director was waiting for us. This lady has been running the school for the last twenty years, and has seen it collapsing over the years. She told us with nostalgia about the heyday of the kindergarten during the Soviet Union times, when the nearby nuclear plant used to finance the school.

This description had nothing to do with the cold and damp building we entered. The children’s work was hanging between pieces of mouldy plaster. Even though the association (CRPCF) had financed the renovation of the roofing, the mayor was responsible for the carrying out of the work and only half was done…The big radiators are not connected to any pipe…In these conditions, it is impossible to welcome children to the school more than six months per year.

It is now March, and parents want the kindergarten to reopen. But the director feels sorry that none of the parents in question offer their help, even those who are jobless.

This visit was not encouraging as there are no immediate solutions on the horizon. We had before us an example of a society let down as a consequence of the fall of the Soviet Union. A system collapsed suddenly with nothing to replace it. Neither the State nor the parents are taking over the former role of the nuclear plant in Metzamor.

We understand that one of the key-roles for associations in Armenia is precisely to compensate for the shortage of public services. The voluntary help that these associations offer the State is an essential investment for the future.

Gabrielle
(Translation: Yolène Dabreteau)

Saturday, March 21 2009

CRPCF – Children Rights Protection Charity Fund

By Francois on Saturday, March 21 2009, 11:07 - The bringers of hope

On Monday 9th March, Karine Antonyan (president of the association, and jurist), Edmon Simonian (doctor and vice-director of an important hospital in Yerevan) and Lamara Kocharyan (lawyer) welcomed us at the offices of the CRPCF. The association, founded in 2001, has 8 members altogether, all being distinguished personalities in their own field: law, medicine or higher education.

Karine Antonyan presented the CRPCF to us. It is the only association in Armenia whose purpose is the protection of children’s rights. The members of the association take action by giving their time and using their network of contacts for the defence of children rights.

The members of the CRPCF ask the authorities to apply the existing laws and to respect the Children Rights UN charter that was ratified by Armenia. For example, the law that makes provisions for the free medical care of children under 14 years old was applied in fact only for children aged 0 to 3 years old. Following the action of the CRPCF, authorities extended the use of this law to children aged 4 to 7 years old.

The CRPCF also tries to encourage people to vote for new laws that favour children. At the time of our visit, the association was campaigning the parliament to impose free and obligatory medical care for all children under the age of 14.

Lobbying actions are sometimes more targeted. When Karine Antonyan heard that the Children’s Hospital of Yerevan was going to be privatised for the modest sum of $25,000, she alerted the Armenian President to stop the sale. This vigilance allowed this hospital to remain a public service.

At last, the CRPCF gives free legal aid to destitute families so that children’s rights can be better taken into account, most notably numerous divorce cases. The association has in this way given more than 3500 legal consultations since its creation. Even though the aim of the CRPCF is conciliation, it does not retreat from appealing to the legal system to defend the children’s interests.

Karine Antonyan, Amar (our interpreter) and Lamara Kocharyan

We left to go to the Tribunal of Oktamberyan, which is about 50 kilometres from Yerevan. There, Lamara Kocharyan was going to plead the case of a mother-of-two before us. When her divorce was pronounced, the children’s father had given fake documents in order to pay the minimum alimony, which is 7000 Drams (€16) per month for both children. The CRPCF was asking for the alimony to be reviewed.

The defence speech started. Even though Lamara Kocharyan appeared to us as a rather discreet woman, her expression changed and she was determined when setting out the facts. The judge, on the other hand, seemed to be listening absent-mindedly. Now and then, he glanced at us, probably wondering what these two French persons were doing in his tribunal. Then, he would regain his appropriate austere appearance.

Half an hour later, the session was over. Lamara Kocharyan looked optimistic about the verdict. We learned later on that she had managed to get the alimony revised to 30 000 Drams (€68) per month, four times the initial amount.

We were invited behind the scenes of the tribunal to meet with the judge. He appeared to be a rather friendly person. He shared with us his very positive impressions about the work of the association. He dropped his man-of-law mask and granted us the honour of taking a picture of him, wearing his robe for the occasion.

As well as protecting children’s rights, the CRPCF also takes numerous actions in order to improve children’s health and wellbeing.

On our way back from the tribunal, the director of the municipal crËche of Metzamor welcomed us. At the time of the Soviet Union, the nuclear plant next to the town used to finance this creche. But the town council did not take over when the government changed. The building is in a terrible state for lack of maintenance, and the CRPCF finances some of the most urgent renovation works.

The CRPCF also financed the renovation of the intensive care unit of the Children’s Hospital in Yerevan, and handed out vitamins and spectacles for about 150 children.
The association is also trying to reinstate a system similar to the mobile emergency medical service that existed at the time of the USSR but has collapsed since. Currently, there is an ambulance service only in Yerevan and a few big cities.
It happens from time to time that the members of the association finance some of the surgical operations for children over the age of 7 years. They negotiate the price with doctors in their network.
The association hands out clothes, shoes and food to the disadvantaged families.

How to help the CRPCF?

The association is interested in all offers of help available to take action for the wellbeing of children. Financially, clothes wise, in matters of medical equipment, etc, needs are huge, but Karine Antonyan insists on the fact that people should consult the association before taking any initiative. It has happened before that the CRPCF received parcels full of unusable clothes. The association had to pay to have them burnt, when the money spent to send the parcels could have been used to buy everything needed directly…

The CRPCF takes action in the legal field thanks to its members working on a voluntary basis. The running costs and the other actions of the CRPCF are financed by its members and sometimes by unconditional donations. This association is claiming to be an opposition force and its priority is to keep its independence.
We salute the determination and implication of the CRPCF members for the defence of the children’s interest. By dint of work and pragmatism, their actions continue to bear fruit.

Contacts

E-mail : crpcf@operamail.com
Website : www.crpcf.netfirms.com
Telephone (in Armenian) : +374 10 573 356
Fax : +374 10 269 282

François
(Translation: Yolène Dabreteau)

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Gates of India

25 Days in Iran

Persian Encounters

"Half of the world" tour

Change of scene

Iran (or Persia)

The Iranian currency

First Day in Iran

A Day to The Ends of The World

SPFA Karabakh

The High Karabakh

The fish farm in Vorotan

Let’s go to Moreni!

Ekho

Delights of Armenia

SPFA Gumri – Health, education and social actions

SPFA Gumri – Water 24 hours a day

Gumri

Visit of the kindergarten in Metzamor

CRPCF – Children Rights Protection Charity Fund

Esp'errance project

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