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Notes From Hairenik
July 27, 2006
Don’t fly Air France to and from Yerevan
On my way to California last week on a business trip, with a short stop-over in Boston for a few days, I had probably the worst international flying experience to date. I was booked to fly with Air France, which now offers direct flights between Paris and Yerevan, beginning last April. There was an unusually long check-in line at Yerevan’s Zvartnots Airport for my flight on July 13, and it was extremely slow moving. It turned out that the Air France computer system was down, and all check-ins, including baggage and passenger validation, had to be done by hand—everything was written out. As a result, the flight was delayed over one hour, which meant that my two-hour layover in Paris, usually long enough to at least browse in a duty-free shop while waiting to board, was reduced to less than 45 minutes.

Paris’s Charles de Gaulle International Airport is a partial disaster zone. Not too long ago the newly built Terminal 2E’s ceiling collapsed, killing four travelers in-transit and injuring a few more in the process. As a result, it appeared to me as the plane was taxiing that none of the airplanes were docking at Terminal 2, where were had arrived, but simply a few feet from it at designated areas. None of the planes allowed boarding or deboarding by means of those connector bridges that lead to the terminal. The passengers deboarded the plane by means of a portable metal staircase, then we were immediately directed to board low-set to the ground transportation buses offering standing room only. Special shuttles were offered to people rushing to make their connecting flight to Boston—there were quite a few of us flying from Yerevan that day. We were required to depart from 2E, which judging from the small, vague airport map provided with the boarding pass, was where we supposedly arrived. The 10-minute long ride, during which the bus crossed nearly every square inch of asphalt surrounding the runways and seemed to loop around certain sections of the terminal five times or more, was a clear sign that we indeed were in the midst of a chaotic situation that would only bring unwanted surprises. I remember having to walk up a few flights of stairs turning corners in between each one, almost getting lost in the process due to lack of signage. I passed through a security check two times: once with the metal detectors and X-Ray machines, and the other at the gate, where a security guard decided to take apart all my carry-on bag’s contents, laptop and all, then he carefully inspected my clogs and belt. I was directed to board yet another bus, then waited at least 15 minutes before we were set to embark on another 10-minute ride to the airplane.

I climbed another flight of metal stairs to board, only to find that I was assigned a window seat. I used to relish these seats since I could observe the sky and earth miles below to my heart’s content, so long as there was daylight of course. But the Airbus model we boarded, the A330, did not give me much head or elbow room, since the plane is designed in such a way where you virtually have no possibility of comfortably resting your shoulder near the window unless you are under 5 ft. 8 inches in height. To top it off, there was a strange, fixed metal box underneath the seat in front of me, which prevented me from soundly placing my European-size 45 feet on the floor without them cramping up two hours into the flight. The A330 is big enough to allow ample opportunities to walk around and stretch. I was frantically looking for free aisle seats during those strolls through the cabin but to no avail. But at least the French films they offered were entertaining, and they distracted me from my sardine can-like discomfort. The 350 ml bottle of Bordeaux wine served with dinner helped me calm my nerves as well.

The early arrival at Boston’s Logan International Airport—another disaster zone the likes of which that I cannot possibly describe here—after only 5 hours or so was most welcomed. Thankfully, I did not have any problems whatsoever going through passport control, other than the usual “How long have you been outside the US?” and “What were you doing in Armenia?” questions. But my wander round and round the baggage carousel for 45 minutes confirmed my suspicion that my suitcase did not travel with me from Paris due to the short layover, thus I had no change of underwear or toiletries. Luckily enough, very close to the “Logan Express” bus station where my parents promptly picked me up, there was a Target store carrying anything you could possibly want to consume and a TJ Maxx, from where along with its sister company store, Marshalls, has been purchased the majority of my clothing items during the last 30 years at bargain prices either by myself or my mother. She taught me well….

The following day, July 14, after making the first of 20 calls to the Air France lost luggage hotline, which operates from Florida for some reason, we learned that my suitcase had arrived at approximately 2:30 pm in Washington, D.C. and was then promptly flown to Boston by United Airlines. Another call confirmed that it had arrived in Boston on Saturday, July 15 as of late morning, stored in some unknown location. But for some reason, Air France could not expedite its delivery, even though our home is located only about 15 miles from the airport. The hotline operator said that she would put in a “request” that it be delivered that day, which from what I would later understand was simply an SMS message, the same you send from one mobile phone to another, and which can easily be missed. It was the only request made during that day our investigation would reveal—no one at Air France bothered to follow-up as to whether it was in transit.

On Sunday, July 16, most of the day was spent repeatedly calling the hotline, twice by myself and about 15 times by my mother, who has more patience than I do when agitatedly speaking on the phone. At one point my father took the receiver and started speaking in French with “Regie,” the Air France service representative answering most of our calls and who couldn’t seem to understand what we wanted of him. It took him a few hours to realize that we really wanted my suitcase delivered, immediately, seeing as I was due to fly to California the following day and was wearing old clothes I happened to find around the house in the meantime. During the day my grandmother and uncle came over for shish kebab, and by the time they left around 8:00 pm the bag still did not arrive. Then a close friend of mine, who had just moved back to the Boston area the day before came by with his wife and doggie, staying until 11:30 pm, with still no sign of the suitcase, in which were small gifts for them. Finally around midnight, nine hours before I had to be at the airport, an old lime-green Ford pick-up truck, at least 20 years old and falling apart, rusty, dents on the front and rear fenders, with “Tom and Jerry’s Delivery Service” or something like that stenciled on the doors, pulled up in front of the house. When he pulled the suitcase off the truck bed I immediately noticed despite the darkness that it had been mangled. A huge gaping hole was found in one corner, which actually went through to the other side. It was also badly scraped on the rear side and the nylon was frayed on the edges, exposing the wire support frame. There were even burn marks in one place, near the side handle. Some photos appear below.

The day after I arrived at the work office in California, using my mother’s suitcase to haul my stuff, I wrote and faxed a letter to Air France as part of a claim process customers are required to follow who have had lost or damaged baggage. The following are excerpts from that letter:

In reference to claim number BOSAF12874, my luggage was lost, then recovered but stored in an undisclosed storage facility at Logan International Airport for over two days, although my home, the delivery address for the found item, is located only 15 miles away. When it was finally delivered at approximately 12:00 am on July 17, I immediately noticed that the suitcase had been damaged well beyond repair, with a large gaping hole in the lower right corner, and another hole on the reverse side, indicating that some sort of device had possibly punctured straight through the suitcase. …

Please let me know how Air France expects to address this issue regarding my initially lost, then severely damaged returned baggage. The entire post-flight service provided to me was inadequate and unacceptable, particularly the lackadaisical response to my claim and the clear absence of urgency regarding my situation. To make matters worse, the person who finally delivered my baggage from Logan Airport at an inconvenient, late hour seemed to have been intoxicated.”

I have yet to hear a response from Air France regarding my claim, even though the five business-day wait period for a response has passed. Surprisingly enough, I am not expecting one.

Rick from TACentral.com has posted his own horror story about another Air France lost luggage fiasco. Here’s an excerpt I rather liked:

“So who delivered my bags?” I said.

Silence.

“You know what? There are people on these flights whose bags you lost for whom this is the first time they have come to Armenia, and this is their first experience in the country. This is terrible.”

“Well you are entitled to your opinion.”

“Opinion?? This is a fact! Your company failed to put the bags on board.”

I got nowhere, I was getting nowhere else even faster. Finally I told her who I was, and that I wrote TourArmenia, and had one of the largest readerships online about Armenia, 124,000 people each month. And I had to write about my experience and warn people off AF until they got their act together. To which she replied, “Well you can write this if you want but I don’t think it will have much influence.”

She had never seen the web site, so I gave her the URL. Maybe she took the time to see it. I doubt it. And she may be very right in her opinion, as the airlines squeeze more and more people on fewer flights, but if ever a person is serving to harm the reputation of AF, it is this one.

Great stuff. You can read the full article here.


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July 20, 2006
Armenia reaches out to evacuees from Lebanon

In the midst of chaotic destruction stemming from the ceaseless power struggle between the Palestinians and the Jews, which once again is being fought on Lebanese soil, tens of thousands of people are trying to get out of the region. Southern Lebanon and parts of Beirut have already been heavily hit by Israeli artillery shells and missiles launched from fighter planes. With each passing day dozens of lives are being taken and homes are being ripped apart from the seams. A half-million people in Lebanon have already been displaced.

Armenia on Tuesday announced that it would offer amnesty to anyone from Lebanon regardless of ethnic origin for as much as three months. This is quite a show of support for neighboring peoples in the region currently caught up in a sandstorm of bombardment. Lebanon is home to thousands of Armenians. At one time Beirut was considered the cultural, educational, and even political center of the Armenian Diaspora, as well over 200,000 people once lived in Lebanon. Those numbers have far been reduced in the last twenty years, especially since the onslaught of the civil war in the 1980s. Nevertheless, some Armenians there are once again looking for a way out.

I have relatives who are in Lebanon—at least three of my father’s first cousins and their families live in or around Beirut. So far there doesn’t seem to be any news as to how they are getting by. Apparently the wife and three young children of a good friend of mine from the Boston area are stuck in Beirut, where they were vacationing. My father is sometimes heard commenting that the Middle East should only serve as a depot for Armenians, a temporary transition place from the land of their ancestral roots back to that land or to other, more democratic societies. In the wake of recent events, perhaps he is right.

I have to say that it is very unfortunate Lebanon has to be the battle ground again for the two parties in conflict. It has taken 20 years for the country to pick up the pieces and attempt to put into place a proactive democratic government represented by Muslims and Christians alike. To see Beirut, newly emerging once again as the “Paris of the Middle East” crumbling to rubble is a travesty.

So far a few European countries, such as Sweden and France, have been able to evacuate their citizens from Beirut by ship. The US, which has about 25,000 citizens currently in Lebanon, has yet to move people out by air or sea. But Armenia, a country the size of a peanut and with minimal clout compared with its giant western economic savior, is already working out the logistics to get those people who want to leave out of Lebanon as soon as possible. It is a bold step, and Armenia should be commended for lending a helping hand to the victims of the senseless attacks that have no immediate end in site.

You can read more about this here and here.

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July 11, 2006
Another example of ‘vochinch’

I just finished reading an infuriating article on Hetq Online about a classic case of the “vochinch” mentality. It explains that the mayor of Garni has done nothing with an allocated 43 million dram budget (or $104,000) for 2006 to alleviate serious issues regarding the infrastructure of the village. The drinking and irrigation water network, about 50 years old, is disrepair with the pipelines corroding. The sewer system has also been failing to drain properly due to frequent blockages and waste being filled from a nearly tannery. A Russian minivan was purchased to transport kids to school—an otherwise 3 km walk—but instead is being used to cart the mayor around. Between 700,000-1,000,000 dram, or about $1,700-$2,400, are spent annually on the mayor’s mobile phone expenses from the village’s expenditure. The mayor also apparently cultivates most of the 114.7 hectares of agricultural land leased between 2004-2005, for which he fails to pay taxes. Garbage collection is virtually non existent, so residents simply throw refuse in the Garni gorge, which is incidentally a popular recreation area. Residents complain but do not get anywhere, since Armenians are good at arguing but fail to take any subsequent action, probably in fear of being beaten up by the mayor’s henchmen.

Similar stories can be told in perhaps hundreds of villages and towns throughout the country. The city of Vanadzor, the third largest in Armenia, is currently undergoing a crisis with its infrastructure, as no fresh drinking water has been supplied to most of the city’s residents in the last five days. Apparently, the city receives its drinking water from Stepanavan, located about 30 kilometers north, and the main line has been damaged somehow. The mayor of Vanadzor is too busy worrying about his own businesses than protecting the welfare of his constituents. He owns at least two restaurants, a hotel, and even a hair salon.

My in-laws, who have a seven-month old baby to take care of, are fortunate enough to have a nearly apartment that they rent to a person who only stays there on weekends, where a 200 liter reserve tank was installed since the district normally receives water for about six to eight hours every two days. When that supply runs out, there effectively will be no water to be had anywhere for at least another week, when the water system will supposedly be repaired. According to my wife’s family and friends in Vanadzor, no complaints have been made to the mayor’s office to relieve the situation as soon as possible. People don’t think that protesting will make a difference, so they don’t bother, remaining as quiet as lambs, only bleating when they get in each other’s way. There are effectively no leaders who are able to instill the motivation needed in the population for bringing about the necessary reforms in the system.

Thus, civil society develops at a snail’s pace or, arguably, not at all. The State Department has financed several ongoing democracy and civil society building programs in Armenia within the last decade, which are clearly not operating to the degree that they should. A few US-based organizations are bent on opening Internet computer centers across the country to “foster” civil society, which youngsters were using to surf porn sites at one point. Instead of training people about how to become activists and instill the change needed in their own communities, people are encouraged to learn how to use the Internet, when their main concerns are, for example, trying to find the appropriate funds to cultivate their farm land by paying the appropriate bribes to the local water works administrator so they will have irrigation water. Organizations based in the Armenian diaspora have been ineffective in this regard as well.

People can only strengthen civil society when they know how to actually do it. Citizens throughout the country have heard about cases of violence against those who criticize, so they stay silent in order to protect their “heads from being broken,” a common fear here. But sooner or later, “vochinch” has to come to an end. The 8,000 residents of Garni, many of whom do not know one another apparently, need to come together and throw the lucrative businessman mayor out on his ass, then take charge themselves. That’s what communism was all about, actually. Armenians forgot socialism in only a 16 year time span. It has been replaced by a governing system of intolerance and indifference.

You can read another fresh article about “vochinch” here.

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July 3, 2006
More construction photos

While I was snapping these photos a timid kid, in his late teens probably, greeted me and asked me whether I worked for a newspaper. I gathered that he was one of or the only “guard” on site, since there wasn’t much building going on, and wanted to know what I was up to. I told him I was a tourist and he immediately backed off for me to continue shooting.


These are the rods which are supposed to save people when an earthquake hits. Of course, nothing will happen to their homes. I mean, they’re made of iron. How can you go wrong?


Above is the fate of a Soviet panel apartment building, known as the "Writer’s Building" on Pushkin Street, probably a few decades old judging by its condition. But it’s in pretty good shape compared to other newer buildings located away from the city’s center.

This “Elite Group” building at the bottom of Deryan Street, running almost parallel to the Northern Boulevard, was finished several months ago, complete with private security guards and an underground parking garage.

I stare at this scene every day and I am always amazed at how the back of that crane does not crash into that old building just a few inches beside it. One false move and that Stalin-era (or older) structure is coming down. Perhaps that is the intent for positioning the crane so close....

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Yerevan’s construction boom: A closer look

Many people are excited by all the construction going on in Central Yerevan. And depending who you speak to, they are enthusiastic or disgusted. As has been reported on this blog and various news sources, this construction has come at the expense of destroying most of Old Yerevan, the few remains of which can only be found in a few nooks and crannies on side streets, like Puskin and the beginning of Deryan, near Republic Square. If you look hard enough on foot, you can still find some structures with a pre-Soviet history—I bumped into a couple today.

Obviously people who are positive about what’s going on around them feel as though the change is for the better. There is a mentality among Armenians that anything old is inferior because of its age, which is why they are so quick to buy the latest cell phone model or newest German automobile. Slightly used is no longer good enough for Armenians who have some money to spend—they have to purchase brand new cars trucked in from Europe or flown in from Dubai. This goes for Armenians everywhere, by the way, it’s not unique to those living and born in Armenia. It makes sense why they are proud to see so many “pretty” buildings going up.

People I know who work in the real estate business told me that these buildings are for the most part being poorly built. I suspected as much just from observing from street level, but I was unable to pinpoint how the structures were actually being erected, until I went for a walk today along Pushkin Street, which intersects the emerging Northern Boulevard.

From what I have seen thus far, as verified by my trip on foot, all of these buildings are made from poured cement, reinforced with thin, iron rods. Note that I wrote cement—there is evidently no concrete being used in any of these buildings going up. No iron crossbeams are implemented to construct the frames, particularly in the high rise buildings, nine floors high or more. In the United States, walls are constructed from either wood or aluminum studs and lined with insulation, then plaster board to complete them. In Yerevan, as well as in the villages, walls are made out of cement cinder blocks or, if the constructor is splurging, tuf stone.

No attention is being paid to making these structures earthquake resistant from what I have seen by examining the newly laid foundations, made completely of poured cement. New building practices have long been applied in regions prone to earthquakes, at least in the US. Some high risers for instance in such areas are built on top of gigantic lead-rubber isolation bearings resting on the foundation, as an attempt to prevent the structures from crumbing since they can effectively roll back and forth. No such thing here. In case of an earthquake, people can count on tons of reinforced cement to protect them.

But this is the same problem that got Armenians into trouble in the 1988 earthquake. Then, as now, high-rise buildings were made of poor quality cement and other generally inferior materials. Tens of thousands died because the Soviets used absurd, highly unsafe building technology in a main fault zone. Unfortunately, architects and construction contractors are disregarding that fact. Instead of trucking in large cement panels to be assembled together like wooden toy blocks as was done on the good old days, they make the panels onsite, using wide metal or wood forms. Panels can be formed in any necessary shape, round or flat, so long as there’s enough cement to be had. Dozens of truck loads are brought in to Yerevan everyday. There are no cement factories nearby, so the stuff is delivered from as far away as Ararat.

The not-to-distant danger is that Yerevan is due for an earthquake, as was recently discussed at a press conference held by the Armenian Association of Seismically Safe Construction a few weeks ago. In 1679 a quake completely devastated the city, and the same is predicted to occur soon, with a death toll of 300,000.

Depending on which building you look at, the quality seems to vary, from poor to average. None of the incomplete buildings I have seen have impressed me as being constructed with high quality in mind. For a city whose residents are bent on implementing the latest “European standards” pertaining to anything home related, it is disturbing to see how shabbily new structures are built.

In the middle of all this chaotic construction, cement dust everywhere, sometimes so thick that you can barely breath, two ancient structures by Yerevan’s standards still stand. Why they are still there is beyond me—I suppose no one has gotten around to tearing them down yet, especially when they can barely finish what they’ve started.

Indeed, some of these buildings have been in the works for over a year, even two or more. The only excuse I can find for not building them quicker is that cement keeps running out. There is such a high demand for cement that the factories can’t keep up, despite the fact that both Mika and Multigroup conglomerates—which are also heavily involved in numerous real estate projects—are manufacturing it. The Northern Boulevard is slated to be completed by 2007, but something tells me potential residents as well as businessmen will have a much longer wait.


I have to concur that the fact Yerevan is building up is a positive sign. Construction is a natural manifestation of progress. But the building standards being implemented are poor, or arguably nonexistent—this is obvious to anyone who has any sense of how structures are constructed in the West, for example. They will not be safe, and will be unhealthy for living—the interiors of panel-manufactured apartment buildings are known for being extremely warm, close to suffocating, in summers, while being frigid during the winter months. Thus they absorb environmental temperatures very well. There is one slight cosmetic difference between most of the Soviet panel-manufactured and the new buildings—thin granite or tuf tiles, about 1/16-1/4 of an inch or so thick, are being affixed to the exterior cement walls. Other than that, they are being built exactly the same way. If you leave the city by car, you’ll notice dozens of half-constructed buildings from the Soviet era virtually identical in craftsmanship to what you see along the Northern Boulevard. The new buildings are pretty ugly as well—there is no style to them. Just plain, rectangular blocks. Two or three are nearly completed, but there is nothing characteristic about them. They actually look like office buildings that you would see along highways in the US or Europe. One in particular comes to mind on the corner of Tumanyan and Deryan.

As of the beginning of this year, one square meter of real estate was priced at $1,500 in Central Yerevan. Many of the new apartments are designed to be at least 100 square meters in area each, which means that, when completed, they would cost $150,000. And that is for an unfinished apartment, with no floors or walls—just cement, underfoot and overhead. Apparently most of the apartments have been reserved by Armenian diasporans. I only hope they know what they’re about to live in.

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