However, readers are probably asking themselves what happened to my poor old Niva. Well, as I was turning left (and also signaling) a mediocre 15-20 year old Mercedes-Benz, one of the smaller types, decided to pass me at a high speed and in the process nicked the corner of my car’s front bumper. The bumper, which is affixed to the body by two weighty metal posts, was torn away on the left side where it was hit, while the right side managed to hang on. The Mercedes-Benz however, was in much worse shape. The front and rear passenger doors were significantly damaged, and on top of that it looked as though the front end was severely out of alignment. Older men in their 50s or 60s who bothered to stop and observe what would transpire as a result of the accident were overheard lamenting the fact that the Mercedes-Benz was smashed up, never mind my car or more importantly the people who were sitting in each vehicle.
As you can see in the above photo of a nearly identical Niva to my own parked on a beautiful beach with a glamorous woman striking a pose by leaning against it with her right arm, perhaps caressing it admiringly, the corner of the bumper—the black plastic part—needs to be replaced. The steel bumper itself appears to be in fine condition, so I am assuming there is minimal work to be done there. The black grill, which of course is also made from plastic, needs to be replaced, and the lower front needs to be stretched back into its rightful shape somehow, as was told to me. There are some other small dents that formed in the collision which will also be banged out. If I was driving a newer model (mine was built in 1995) the damage could have been worse since they are generally not built as solidly according to what I have heard and even noticed. Hopefully I will have my car back looking as if nothing had ever happened to it in about a week.
Now you may be wondering, why was the driver of the Mercedes-Benz going so fast, and why was he passing you while you were about to make a left turn (that happened to me for the first time a few weeks ago)? Well for one thing, very few people actually learn how to drive here. You see student driver cars around the city now but they are few and far between compared with the amount of vehicles that are on the road and are ever increasing. Most people simply do not know the rules of the road or even care about them judging by the way they drive. My apartment is situated on an intersection that has a traffic light, but there isn’t a minute or two that goes by when I see someone go through a red light or pull half-way into the intersection while waiting 15 seconds for the light to turn green. There are also lots of close calls, especially in the way people pass each other, so my situation was no exception. It is generally amazing that accidents are hard to come across given the reckless nature of most drivers, especially the young punks driving their own Nivas or other Lada models. There should be more traffic police pulling people over on the roads—I observed one such situation last week from my balcony where the cop was giving the driver a hard time about some violation, and it appeared that he wrote the guy a ticket. But you don’t see that as often as is needed in Yerevan especially. I imagine that the pulling over of vehicles by police infrequently happens outside the capital. There is one other thing to consider: Armenians are showoffs. They love to cruise around in their cars, each of them thinking that they are driving the best machines to master the streets, even though many of them are jalopies that barely roll along powered by natural gas. The cocky drivers are the ones who drive enormous black Japanese sport utility vehicles or relatively new German sedans—they think they own the roads and all other drivers are subservient to their hapless moves. They could care less about other motorists or pedestrians for that matter.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural
Last week a friend of mine and I planned to jump into my Niva and journey towards Tbilisi, Georgia. Both of us had never been and I especially wanted to check the city out since effectively it is one of the oldest if not the oldest city in the South Caucasus and has fantastic architecture, not to mention scenery. It was also the intellectual center of the Armenians in the 1800s into the early 1900s, so I wanted to get a first-hand glimpse of old Tiflis as the city is called in Armenian. I made a road trip to Samtskhe-Javakheti or Javakhk several years ago and admired the beautiful landscape, so I wanted to travel Georgia again but this time drive in my own car.
By the time we woke, took showers, had a bite to eat, filled up gasoline, and made sure we had our passports with us, we didn’t hit the road towards Lori until 9:00 am. It took us about two and a half hours to reach the border by way of Alaverdi, which is about 20 miles or so from the Georgian border. When we finally got there about five or six cars were parked in front of us waiting to take care of the administrative problems associated with crossing a state border, and Hamlet and I also found out what we had to do. There were two windows we thought we had to approach. At one window we showed our Armenian special residency visas and American passports to a customs officer, then were told that everything was fine but we should see the officer directly across from him. The officers worked in small rooms that are situated right at the gate to cross the border. The other officer studied the passports and while doing so had trouble pronouncing my last name (which is Adanalian), then made a flippant remark about what kind of name it was. Naturally I reassured him that was Armenian, even though I suppose he was suspicious for some stupid reason. He reaffirmed that they were in order, and then he asked for the paperwork for the car.
I gave him the official registration/title of the car, which looks like a credit card, followed by the transfer of ownership which was typed in Armenian. He glanced over it, turning it over a couple of times, then asked, “What is this?” I told him but he protested. “This isn’t stamped with a seal. Why are you showing this to me? This is basically useless and besides, you don’t have a sealed Russian or English translation. Go back, you can’t cross with your car.”
In Armenia the legitimacy of all services received and capital purchased must be validated with an official seal stamped on a typed document describing the transaction made. The seal is used by government agencies and businesses considered in good standing. Agencies providing legal services also use the seal. A seal has to be round and have an exact official diameter for it to be legal. Within the seal in a narrow space between the outer edge and an inner ring the name of the institution must appear in Armenian as well as in Russian or English. The seal is also usually signed by the person who stamped it. If a document is not sealed, which is most always affixed in blue ink, the legality associated with the transaction is questionable or otherwise considered not binding.
We could have crossed on foot but then there would be the problem of transportation. Supposedly there are taxis on the other side of the border but we figured the ride would be fairly expensive to Tbilisi. But the fun of the journey was to go with my car so we could stop and site watch whenever we wanted without worrying about the meter ticking.
So we drove to Alaverdi to find a notary office. It was located in the courthouse but there was a padlock on the iron gate protecting the main entrance. A few guys were standing on the corner waiting for something to happen, and one of them told us that he could help by taking us to the notary, who happened to live in a neighborhood that happened to be perched on a cliff about a half-mile north of where we were parked. We jumped into the Niva to make the 10-minute journey upwards along the winding snake-like road. Four false starts later, we found the high-rise apartment where the notary lived and walked up to the second floor. The man helping us was determined to find the guy at all costs. We knocked on the notary’s door but no one was home. The neighbors across the hall didn’t know him or where he was. But the next-door resident confirmed he was away, yet he she didn’t have his mobile or home phone numbers. The search was officially over, and our search guide was visibly disappointed, but we thanked him happily. We were actually cheered up that he went all out to assist us, as it is always pleasant to experience the resilience of someone who chooses to help solve your problem in this country—it becomes their dilemma in the process and they want it resolved.
We decided to make a fruitless trip to Vanadzor to go to the office of the original notary who issued the transfer of ownership in the first place when I purchased the car and chew her out while she translated and stamped for not telling me what needed to be done. But there were about 20 people in line there to get things in order. I knew of another notary who worked in a trailer and did express work by cutting corners but charging more money, nevertheless it turned out she replaced the notary who issued my transfer of ownership and worked in the office at city hall, as her trailer office was gone.
Instead we headed to Dilijan and had a barbeque lunch complete with all the fixings along the river there, then went to visit Goshavank build in the 12th century. The church is being renovated in phases it seems, but they still have to get around to cleaning all the bird droppings that completely cover nearly all the interior walls. Apparently the ancient structure has become a giant bird house over the years, as the church is currently not working as an official place of worship.
Incidentally, the next day we decided to drive south towards Yeghiknadzor but along the way decided to head straight towards Datev located in Syunik instead. The winding road from the main highway was treacherous as much of it is severely eroding, but the one-hour ride to the top of the mountain where the monastery is situated was worth it. By far the religious complex was the most fascinating that I have seen in Armenia. It was surrounded by a type of fortress wall complete with a watch tower in the shape of a church steeple along the north and east sides which served as a perch for the armaments. Apparently the complex was financed by the district governor or nakharar at the time who ensured its protection. We found dozens of dormitory rooms, meeting halls, and what seemed to be rooms for meditation with fabulous views of the surrounding landscape. We also found the shed where wheat and other grains were ground by a gigantic stone wheel and where bread was baked. Anyone living or visiting Armenia who has never been to Datev must make the journey there at some point during their lives. It is an inspirational, moving place at which to spend time. The entire time there the two of us were in surprise and awe.
Then we drove down to Kapan, the administrative capital of Syunik, in the dark with lightning storms over our heads to light another snake-like uphill road for split seconds at a time, braving to pass delivery trucks en route to Iran along the way. We spent the night at the Darist Hotel of course after having a midnight barbeque meal and home-distilled mulberry vodka. It was all in all a great weekend south of Yerevan. I actually prefer the south because it is more picturesque over all and the people there, especially in Syunik where General Karekin Njdeh fought bravely against the Red Army for months even after Yerevan surrendered in 1921, are proud and self-reliant. They don’t generally make excuses and cry for assistance from the government in order to make things happen in their communities—this is obvious to you when you enter towns and villages. The architecture in Goris is unique standing apart from that in other parts of the country. Buildings there are comparably very much more structurally sound than most I have seen anywhere else, presumably because engineers or foremen did not steal building materials to sell them on the side when they were being erected 20 or more years ago. You can see the pride on the people’s faces and in their attitudes. That is, unless they are from Yerevan—I saw lots of Yerevan license plates on vehicles for some reason there.
Anyway, I finally learned my lesson after all this time living here. Very few can do anything if their papers are not stamped with approval. Apparently very few things in this country rival the power of the seal, which in my experience was ultimate.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Politics, Social and Cultural
Apparently the Armenian government is approving a measure to actually start collecting taxes that authorities have previously “overlooked.” Wealthy big businessmen have traditionally received tax breaks, both legitimized and conspicuous, and on the whole people that own properties, material goods, or firms have been able to successfully get away with tax evasion. As a result social service programs are under funded and pensioners make between $12 and $20 a month.
According to the State Tax Service (STS), if the program is implemented (i.e., if businessmen start paying taxes and tax collection officials stop taking bribes), the amount of revenue generated from collected taxes will rise to 20 percent in 2010. I don’t know if that number takes into consideration the rise in the state budget, nevertheless the number is still way too low. I do not understand how the spending budget is determined in this country when tax collection is relatively weak. The Armenian method of economics still remains a disturbing mystery.
Many companies basically avoid paying taxes by playing with the accounting figures and posting losses. As an example, despite the construction spree in Yerevan Gagik Tsarukian’s MultiGroup cement factory (assuming that’s what it’s called since many of his businesses have “Multi” in the name) in the town of Ararat has been claiming that it has been in the red for years. Looks like the boys at the STS have been doing very well to shut up about it. Yet supposedly that’s all about to change according to this measure. Somehow I doubt it, but then again, you never know. So far this year both the STS and customs have supposedly collected approximately $254 million in revenue.
Labels: Politics
An apero is a young man who conforms to the rabiz lifestyle and culture, although “alternative,” non-traditionalists are now prevalent. The apero has two primary interests: automobiles and expensive, sleek mobile phones. Aperos are on the whole arrogant and more often than not are rude, obstinate, or both. They address each other incessantly as “akhper” or “aper,” slang terminology for brother, and they usually add the term “dear” as a deceptive expression of sincerity. The usage of a phrase that literally translates as “I take your pain,” but with the contextual meaning “give me a break” or “giving you a break,” is spoken in such frequency that it fails to maintain any real significance and is rather an empty promise. For the most part they speak what can be described as “wise guy Armenian,” which is becoming a standardized dialect. The pronunciation of words is usually exaggerated to the extent that it sounds as if the speaker is moaning, almost incoherent, and from the speech an impression of profound ignorance can be sensed. Armenian is intermingled with Russian, Turkish, Arabic, and Farsi very naturally, and if asked about a term they have chosen they may not immediately realize that it is not from the Armenian lexicon. To emphasize a point, the apero uses hand gestures, the most noticeable being one where the index and middle fingers are pressed against the thumb, positioned upright, and the arm is extended from the elbow at least one or two times towards the person with whom he is speaking. Sometimes the lower back is bent slightly while making the gesture. When an apero wants to persuade a friend, he begins to caress the vertical center hem of his companion’s shirt while speaking softly to him, even straightening out the collar or flicking away dust if necessary. Whenever two of them meet or part ways, their right hands clasp and they kiss each other’s left cheek. Aperos are prone to loitering, during which time they tenderly smoke slim cigarettes or madly munch on sunflower seeds. The posture of the apero is in many cases poor with slumped shoulders.
The type of automobile an apero chooses to drive is one of three types: the Lada 2107, 110, 112, or Niva fitted with black tinted windows, oversized tires (in the case of the Niva), premium allow wheels, and high-end stereo systems; a 5-15 year-old Mercedes-Benz or BMW with deluxe, personalized trim packages, sometimes including small monitors displaying video discs; or any sport utility vehicle make or model, although German or Japanese flavors seem to be the preferred choice. The wealthy ones cruise around in relatively new European or Japanese sedans. Custom license plates are obtained to accentuate the prestige of their vehicles. Aperos drive them recklessly, paying no attention to other motorists and especially to pedestrians. Traffic lights mean nothing to them. They are perpetually in a furious hurry to go nowhere.
Younger aperos, in their late teens or early to mid twenties, are generally thin-built and baby-faced. They wear slim-fitting pants and pullover shirts, with narrow, unusually pointed shoes supported by fairly high heels. The outfit of choice was once a sort of uniform: a white button-down shirt with an open collar, double-pleated cuffed black pants, and an extra-long black belt fastened by an oversized platinum-colored buckle. Their hair was almost always worn the same way: cut very short and parted from the far right to left. However, modern pop culture trends in Moscow are starting to exert influence on Yerevan fashion for young men, so now aperos wear varying styles of clothing in undiscriminating colors and are even growing their hair somewhat long, although the traditional dress is still in vogue.
As an apero ages into his late twenties or early thirties he develops a pot belly, which is a symbol of affluence. The larger the belly, the more successful men are perceived to be (or regard themselves as being). Expensive suits are fitted extra long and somewhat baggy regardless of the man’s height or weight. Designer athletic suits are worn as casual wear. Women instinctively gravitate towards them for the financial protection they may offer. Once an apero is married and has fathered at least one child, he takes on a mistress who is entertained in late evening.
Aperos generally do not contribute to the advancement of Armenian society. They are indifferent to politics or anything else that does not involve upholding materialism. They compete with one another for dominance in the realm of pretentiousness. The apero lives from moment to moment, and the future for him is the following day.
Towards the end of last year I began to feel suffocated by these guys as I found them at nearly every public place, with the exception of ethnic restaurants, high cultural events, or places frequented by non-Armenian residents and tourists. They even made their way into my workplace—one of the first employees who started with me it turned out was an apero in dormancy, and when he became responsible for hiring new workers he accepted those with whom he found a natural affinity. I remember feeling overwhelmed by the uncouthness of these dudes, the insolence and careless abandon they would display, and becoming infuriated with what I had to endure day in and day out. Finally I asked a friend who is an investigative journalist how he copes, and he responded that he does whatever is necessary to not associate with them. Although this is not always possible, I nevertheless realized after speaking with him that there was nothing I could do about the way they act, speak or whatever else, so I simply began to accept them for who they are. I also try to keep my distance from them, but when it is unavoidable I act as cordially as I can, and most of the time I am in turn treated with respect. But make no mistake that the old saying, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” does not apply in my case (and I am not alone by all means). For one thing I hardly ever understand what the hell they’re talking about.
Photo: The Lada 112, a classic example of an aperomobile.
Labels: Fashion, Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural
A few months ago I reported on my father's drastic improvement from his sudden decline in health, when he unexpectedly suffered from cardiac arrest in mid-January, exactly one month after having undergone open heart bypass surgery. Although at first we were all extremely concerned about his prognosis, he defiantly beat all the odds against him. Four months later, after relentless mental and physical therapy, not to mention diligent patience, Khosroff walked out of the rehabilitation center yesterday and went straight off to work. Apparently shortly after he arrived he demanded to sit at his jeweler's bench--where my brother had been working while my dad was away--not necessarily to do his repairs or create something but simply because it was his spot. After he finally returned home he sat down for a typical Armenian dinner of dolma that my mother meticulously prepared before going to bed.
In a nutshell, my father's long-term memory has apparently been completely restored, which is remarkable considering that his brain was deprived of oxygen for several minutes. Short-term memory needs more time to return, but it may not ever be as it once was, which is what we were expecting anyway. He relies on a walker to help him move around as his coordination is still a bit off, although he does not require the use of a wheelchair. Tiredness is still a part of the recuperation it seems. And his personality, mannerisms, and even Khosroffisms are all intact, as if he had never been in poor health. In other words, those who were privileged enough to meet him during his visit to Armenia, or those who know him back in Boston, will be very pleased to see him back in action.
The last four months were very trying for my family, especially for my mother who went through hell and back with my father. But we thank everyone for their prayers and warm wishes of good health for him. With your support the pain we all felt was not as sharp. Khosroff especially appreciates your faith in him.
Photo: Khosoff Adanalian, St. Ejmiadzin, Armenia, courtesy of Onnik Krikorian.
The winning political parties were the following:
Republican Party of Armenia: 457,032 (or 32.8%)
Prosperous Armenia: 204,443 (or 14.7%)
ARF-Dashnaktsutiun: 177,192 (or 12.7%)
Orinats Yerkir: 95,256 (or 6.8%)
Heritage: 80,890 (or 5.8%)
The International Election Observation Mission representing the OSCE/ODIHR, which was monitoring the elections, stated in a press conference on May 13 that the elections were "largely in accordance with international commitments" although they stopped short of declaring them free and fair. Nevertheless, Armenia is on its way towards forging democracy.
Labels: Politics
Here is an updated partial list of political parties with their respective number of votes (as of 11:00 am):
Republican Party of Armenia: 343,822
Prosperous Armenia: 150,264
ARF-Dashnaktsutiun: 133,600
Orinats Yerkir: 53,599
Heritage: 31,678
New Times: 24,146
People’s Party of Armenia: 26,020
Republic: 12,968
Impeachment bloc: 8,614
United Liberal National Party (MIAK): 1,757
There may be a margin of error in some of the above figures by a few thousand votes. More information to come.
Labels: Politics
The tally of votes received for each political organization on the majoritarian and proportional lists is still not finalized, but as of the time of this post, some preliminary results appear below. These tallies are made from 251,353 counted ballots at 512 voting precincts throughout the country (as of 6:00 am).
Republican Party of Armenia: 97,203
Prosperous Armenia: 47,024
ARF-Dashnaktsutiun: 35,484
Orinats Yerkir: 12,970
Heritage: 5,600
New Times: 5,227
People’s Party of Armenia: 3,653
Republic: 3,624
Impeachment bloc: 1,740
United Liberal National Party (MIAK): 338
Naturally, there have been reported irregularities, such as last-minute bribes of 15,000 and 25,000 drams issued by the Republicans and Prosperous Armenia, respectively, ballot stuffing at one precinct, and brawls. Apparently in the Nor Nork (Masiv) district of Yerevan, a fight broke out between ARF-Dashnaktsutiun and Republican Party supporters. Both parties accused each other of attempting to rig the vote: supposedly one voter who chose to elect the ARF tried to get into the polling station again to cast a second vote, and Republicans cried foul. Apparently, the ARF provoked the struggle. Supposedly, votes went missing belonging to Raffi Hovanissian’s Heritage party according to its spokesman, although this has yet to be confirmed.
More information to come.
Labels: Politics
Labels: Politics
For the most part I did not notice anything unusual at any of the places that I visited. Citizens getting out the vote were courteous to one another and to the election officials, being sure to follow the voting rules. At all stations clearly visible posters were affixed to walls demonstrating the steps needed to be taken to place a vote. There was one incident in Noragavit whereby a photojournalist’s credentials were refused by local election officials and he was temporarily unable to work until a phone call to the Central Election Commission main office was made to straighten the situation out. And people waiting to register themselves and receive ballots were also generally disorderly there, sometimes shouting, with no obvious voters’ line. In each of the stations two ballot boxes were in plain view side by side. Each voter who registered his or her passport number with the election officials was given two ballots—one for the majoritarian list and the other for the proportional candidates. The voters then had to insert the ballots in their respective envelopes, then they carried them to the ballot boxes, where they were stamped by an official and inserted into the respective container.
There are some reports of alleged funny business as well as fights breaking out at polling stations. But nothing can be proved as of yet, with the exception of the situation I personally witnessed in Noragavit, which incidentally is located in the Shengavit district of Yerevan near the end bordering the Ararat region.
All in all it was a very exciting day. And I finally had a chance to meet fellow Armenian-American (now an Armenian citizen) and former foreign minister, Raffi Hovanissian, whose political party, Heritage, is on the proportional system ballot. Unless I am mistaken, if a party is able to gain at least 5 percent of the total proportional list votes, that party will win seats in parliament. I happened to be at the Nork-Marash polling station where he showed up to cast his ballot, and I also heard him address journalists who were there for the occasion. So we will see what happens later on—as of this writing there is still a half-hour left to go before polling stations close at 8:00 pm. I will post more elections information in the near future.
Labels: Politics
On May 9, 1992, the legendary town of Shushi was captured by Armenian forces during the Nagorno Karabagh war with Azerbaijan. It was a pivotal moment in the war as the Armenians appeared unbeatable in their quest for maintaining an already declared free and independent Nagorno Karabagh state. The capture of Shushi was largely made possible by armed battalions provided by the ARF-Dashnaktsutiun, and the victory was amongst the greatest achievements of the organization, perhaps second to the foundation of the first Armenian republic of 1919-1921. Read more about the Battle of Shushi here.
A couple of years ago the roads and sidewalks in the town itself were completely repaired, but as of last summer the thoroughfares actually leading into Shushi from the north and south were still partially destroyed, in other words practically not drivable. Although I believe the town has great potential and is fairly attractive, little investment has been made to boost it economically and as a result, less than 5,000 people are left, down from 17,000 in 1989, of which approximately 98 percent were Azeri, according to Wikipedia. In other words, Armenians barely bothered to populate the city after the war's ceasefire, and bombed-out apartment buildings where Azeris once lived remain.
There is an excellent photo story about May 9 on Hetq Online. The photo above is taken from there, © Hakob Poghosyan.
Labels: Nagorno-Karabagh
Yesterday at 7:00 pm I attended a political rally staged by Prosperous Armenia in front of the Opera House, the leader of which is multimillionaire oligarch Gagik Tsarukian, who is otherwise infamously known as Dodi Gago. However, apparently because of his rise in stature as a politician he is known as Mr. Tsarukian in his fiefdom, the town of
Unfortunately the sound system was not set up properly so that people who stood on the sides of the huge concert stage that was erected could not hear anything that was being said. However, I can guess that Mr. Tsarukian (I won’t refer to him by his somewhat demeaning nickname), who was clad in a khaki leisure suit, was basically saying the same thing that he has been up until now at public gatherings: that once the party has been elected things for the ordinary Armenian would improve, presumably socio-economically, and that all Armenians young and old alike would unite to help build a prosperous country, but how those objectives will be met of course are completely unclear. It was interesting to see one banner hanging on the Opera House wall read, “I want to learn, I elect Prosperous Armenia.” I didn’t understand what that meant until I was told that he personally apparently is paying schooling expenses for select students—I don’t know how they are chosen to receive financial aid. So a good portion of the youth is on his side.
Indeed more than half of the crowd at the event was youth, and the other portion seemed to have been middle aged men or elderly pensioners. But there were also people simply roaming around eating popcorn, sunflower seeds, and cotton candy, presumably waiting for the show to start. The overwhelming majority of those several thousand present were male, and most of young men under the age of 25 were evidently “aperos,” in other words those who adhere to the rabiz culture and lifestyle. I will write more about the apero movement in a separate post, but in the meantime, read my article here.
Prosperous
Now there seems to be a battle for the majority of seats mainly between Prosperous Armenia and the Republican Party. I have heard many times the statement that “everything has already been arranged” regarding the allocation of seats, in other words the elections are just a show and will most like be falsified to some degree. If anything the two parties will form a new pro-government coalition, either before election day or soon after, and the ARF-Dashnaktsutiun will have no choice but to join as a junior partner if it wants to hold on to its power, especially if it is serious about meeting its pledges to voters, not to mention the need for its members to continue operating lucrative businesses. Thus three of the wealthiest people in
Onnik Krikorian will most likely print photos and text here.
Labels: Politics
In any case, there must have been about 5,000 people present at the rally, and I would say between 40-50 percent of those in attendance were under the age of 25. While I was approaching a woman was speaking at the podium, who I am assuming was one of the leaders of the party and parliamentarian candidate Heghine Bisharyan, although I cannot be certain since I could not see her. But by the time I made my way to the top of the steps the charismatic former speaker of the National Assembly Arthur Baghdasarian had taken hold of the microphone, wearing his signature navy blue suit, white shirt, and red tie. He succeeded in revving up the crowd, and as he was talking about topics like the government stifling the voices of people who questioned the authority, and I heard people around me say to others around them that what he was saying was right. He also pointed out that citizens of Armenia should not have to leave the country for whatever reasons they have to live elsewhere, thereby building up their host countries—a valid point. Essentially the theme of their message was that every person, no matter their social status or occupation, has some meaningful role to play in society. On small handheld placards which were used as fans by most of the crowd the party’s slogan read, “We Are All Worthy of Living in a Lawful Country.” I think it’s the best slogan out there, much better than the Republican Party’s rip off title from Aznavour’s 1988 earthquake relief song “For You, Armenia!” and Prosperous Armenia’s message, “Let’s Together Build a Prosperous Country,” both of which really don’t say anything. Orinats Yerkir’s slogan actually makes a stand that calls for social justice and the effective rule of law, that we as people deserve better, which is not a message I have heard conveyed by other parties. And their campaign song, although a cover of a popular hit released a couple of years back with the lyrics changed, is pretty catchy. The other political organizations are counting on their respective images for their most part to carry them through to their own perceived victories, especially the pro-government parties. Each of the opposition parties revolve around a cult of personality, even Orinats Yerkir to an extent since Arthur Baghdasarian is the most visible figure being the organization’s leader.
Several years ago shortly after Orinats Yerkir was gaining notoriety and popularity throughout the nation I stated that it was the party to watch. In a short amount of time it accepted thousands of members, even surpassing the numbers of ARF-Dashnaktsutiun. I think the party will still be able to pull off something—it won’t win a majority but it will receive a percentage significant enough to enjoy representation in the National Assembly. The party fell out of favor with Robert Kocharian last year when Arthur Baghdasarian spoke out against the government and thereafter swiftly fell into opposition. During that time the true, dedicated members supported the party’s decision and resigned from their government posts, while those that were there to enjoy the riches of their positions broke away. Former Minster of Education Sergo Yeritsyan, who looked, spoke, and behaved like he should have been selling rusty bolts and dull circular saw blades at the Vernissage, was one of those who quit the Orinats Yerkir ranks but was replaced by an ARF member—he then had to settle for some menial position that I can’t recall.
Most recently Baghdasarian was caught up in a scandal whereby a conversation he had with the Deputy British Ambassador in a café was secretly tape recorded and leaked to the press. On the recording Baghdasarian was heard insisting that the elections should already be declared undemocratic. After the story was printed President Kocharian responded by effectively calling him a “traitor.”
In any case, loyalists to the party and to Baghdasarian can see though the games being played with the secret tape recording and President Kocharian’s scathing criticism. Baghdasarian was once thought to be the president’s successor. People still believe in Orinats Yerkir despite its fall from grace, and it clearly has a message of promise to convey. Only six days are left to sway undecided voters, the numbers of which are countless.
Labels: Politics
The temperature seems to be warming up now hovering at around 70 degrees Fahrenheit/21 degrees Celsius. Now that the spring rains are hopefully dying down, the latest storm having arrived last night, the cafés are all opening up in confidence, many of them swishier than ever. Every year despite the fact that during the month of April it for the most part rains constantly, there is fear that the apricots will be washed out. A few years back the crop was affected by an unusual amount of rain coupled with untimely freezing temperatures in some areas, effectively driving up the price of apricots by three times or more. I haven’t heard much concern so far, however, which means that people are not worried about it or no longer care one way or another. Spring brings heightened apathy it seems.
The political climate is pretty boring, even as we approach the parliamentary elections to be held on May 12. The Republican Party of Armenia is being very arrogant in its confidence that it will by far win the majority of seats. Prosperous
I have been trying to gear up for the elections hoping to participate as a monitor representing It’s Your Choice (www.iyc.am), as they were recruiting Diasporan Armenians especially for the task. However, despite having written to them several times and calling a line that no one seems to answer, I essentially gave up hopes of becoming one, especially when I went to an informational meeting that was cancelled at the last minute—an cancellation notification email wasn’t sent out and there wasn’t even a sign posted on the IYC office door alluding to the fact, which I found to be very odd. But I heard through the grapevine that all the monitor candidates had already been pre-selected amongst the Diasporan Armenian clique that lurks about here. And it seems that Transparency International is actually behind the monitoring program, not IYC, then personal connections also come into play, and so forth. Unfortunately I have never been part of the in-crowd in social circles, so no monitoring opportunities for me unless some kind of diplomatic miracle happens.
Exploring the regions hasn’t been possible in the last couple of weeks due to a mysterious short-circuit draining my Niva’s battery down completely over the course of 5-7 idle days. Since I drive on average about once a week, this situation has caused me some grief, especially on May Day when I was itching to leave the city on a gorgeous afternoon. I have been trying to use this car battery charger/air compressor that I bought over a year ago to give it a boost, but it seems I have to leave it connected for a few hours. Once I get the Niva running I will be off like a dart to an electrician I know who hopefully will diagnose and solve the problem. I met him a year ago when I had another power drain problem that no one could determine the root of except him—it turned out that one of the previous owners had installed an alternator for a Lada Zhiguli 2101, which is essentially a pure Fiat. Nivas use the same parts as the 2106, so there was definitely something screwy.
But so far, an overall dull, rainy spring. Hoping for some excitement soon enough.
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