A night in the village

Earlier today I came back from a visit to Rada and Elada and their family (I previously wrote about them here and here). I stayed overnight and again I came back with a big bag filled with fruit and vegetables from their own garden. No matter how hard I refused, they insisted on paying my busfare back to Yerevan as well.....Again I had a very good time with them, with lots of laughing, talking, eating, drinking. I was thrilled to see how much progress Elada had made since I last saw her, she was able to walk short distances with support of her mom. Apart from all the fun we had, I also learned more about their situation, their history. The better I get to know this group of women, the more I like and respect them. They have such a history behind them and gone through so much hardship, from bad marriages with crappy husbands to moving from Baku to Uzbekistan and back and eventually to Armenia, trying to set up a new live here, facing unemployment, corruption, a non-cooperative state, and to top it all off, Elada's accident.

As I wrote in one of my previous logs about this family, they were able to move out of the dormitory / kommunalka / obshezhitie to a borrowed house at the edge of the village. They will spend the winter in their two small rooms in the dormitory again, though, because it is easier (and cheaper) to heat those rooms. Last night they showed me their place in the dorm (where theyhave to live with five or six people, Rada's mother has a separate room on the second floor). It was probably the most depressing living quarters I have seen in Armenia: rundown, noisy, with electrical wires hanging from the ceiling and sticking out of the walls, old furniture given to them by a friend from the village, a separate kitchen and bathroom to be used by all the families on their floor and with the local youth (guys) hanging around in the stairwells bored to death because there is nothing to do. Apparently, Rada, her sister Gayane and their mother are entitled to certificates and/or money from the state to be used to buy a house. However, all they would get is about $400 each, which is obviously far from enough to buy even a small one-room shed in a faraway corner of Armenia!!

Another problem they face is Elada's education. She is obviously unable to attend school due to her condition, but she really wants to and she should - she is too bright not to. However, the school director told the family, that they have to pay money in order to get books for Elada to study at home; they'd still have to pay even if they only borrow the books. Last year Elada's best friend came over to their house after school to study with her so she wouldn't fall behind. I guess, they'll have to come up with a similar solution this year, as they obviously don't have money to spare for this. Besides, even if they would, I have a feeling Rada's pride would prevent her from paying anyway! These are just two examples of the problems that the family faces. Most of their problems seem to involve corrupt officials who are trying to take advantage of their situation and refugee-status.

Gayane told me how they don't feel welcome in this country, that they are treated like second-rate citizens by the authorities and by part of the population and are not able to receive what they are entitled to by the state. In addition, especially Gayane suffers from a language problem. Before coming here, the family had never lived in Armenia, they had always lived in Baku or Uzbekistan where they would generally communicate in Russian (or Azeri). As a result, Gayane never learned to speak Armenian well. She only started learning after the family arrived here. By now she understands the language fairly well and can manage speaking Armenian, but she is still far from fluent. She told me how she often encounters a hostile attitude in shops for example, both when she speaks Russian ("This is Armenia, you are Armenian. Speak Armenian!") and when she speaks Armenian ("This is Armenia, you are Armenian. Speak Armenian better / fluently!").

Despite everything these people remain so incredibly optimistic: "Everything will be better. If you compare how we live now with how we used to live when we just arrived in Armenia, we are doing much better now." I have nothing but respect for the way they manage and the way they keep their spirits up. I think that in the end this will pull them through.

While talking with the women, I realized the refugees from Azerbaijan and Nagorno-Karabagh have something in common with many of the people who survived the 1988 earthquake in the north of Armenia. For both groups adjusting to the new, post-Soviet circumstances has been particularly painful and difficult as both groups lost almost everything they had and had to start from scratch again, often having to "learn" or adapt a completely different way of living. Which, by the way, is not to discredit the hardships of other people and other parts of the population.