Final Azerbaijan Blog: The Weird and Wonderful Moments

Even a month later, there are moments from our 9 days in Azerbaijan that come back. I'm sure that there are certain things that I'll never forget:

• The crazy funikulyor up the hill in Baku. For 20 qepik (about 25 cents), you can ride a ridiculously rickety funicular up to.... well... to the higher part of the town, a collection of cemeteries from different uprisings, and monuments. You will also find some very hungry cats up there who will climb into your backpack to get your lunch...
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• The Old City of Baku. The Old city is beautiful, clean and so full of history inside its city walls that it is hard to describe. Everywhere there are old buildings, old streets, old people.
• The cats!  Everywhere we went, it seemed, there were friendly stray cats. On our last day, we stopped for lunch and, as happens in Azerbaijan, got a private room with a space heater. We were soon joined by a mother cat and her kitten, who happily shared our cheese with us, as they toasted themselves by the electric fire.

 

 

 

 

• The bus to and from Sheki. Instead of taking the luxurious "Western" bus, we hopped into a mini-bus for the 5 hour trek from Baku to Sheki. Lumpy seats, no shocks, a bumpy road with hairpin turns, a chain-smoking driver, a quick stop at a restaurant with a bear in a cage outside, and views of shepherds leading flocks of sheep over rolling fields... One of the weirdest bus rides I've ever taken in my life.
• Qobustan rock carvings. We had a private tour (for about $4 each) through the museum and up into the caves to look at rock carvings that were, in some cases, 20,000 years old.
• The fire temples around Baku. First off, we stopped at a naturally occurring phenomenon of the side of a hill that seemed to be completely on fire... and it was incredibly hot. You couldn't stand near it without getting singed. And it's been burning for thousands of years. The more established Fire Temple has been a favourite place for Zoroastrians for ages. In the rooms, we stared at 1st century swords and jewellery -- in glass cases without backs, meaning we could have simply squeezed our hand behind the case to grab at them.  
• The "wishing mosque". I'm not sure who the famous poet was who was buried here, but the mosque (in a rather unpicturesque village by an oil field) is absolutely gorgeous. If you visit his grave (I was in the women's section, following a group of women around and around the bars surrounding his grave, as they prayed), you can make a wish. As you are leaving, a woman may grab you by the hand and drag you over to a lady behind a counter who will hand you a bag full of candy.
• The bathroom in Xinaliq. Okay, we've talked a lot about Xinaliq but we haven't really touched on just how, um, primitive the bathroom was. A mud floor, over a hole in the ground, with  slippery rocks to stand on. And it's freezing cold on your nether regions. And to get there: you get to slide down either a muddy path (in the sunlight) or a hard frozen slippery path (at night, holding a tiny flashlight). Finally, on the last morning, I just simply refused to go at all. Hmmm, nice view out the little window, though (snowy mountains and a frozen river).
  
• Butchers/sacrifices etc. So, yes, we were there during the Muslim Eid that is known for its sheep sacrifices. These were done, it seemed, every 100 metres or so on the 150km drive from Baku to Quba. A collection of (live) sheep in a pen, or meandering around the side of the road, and one (dead) sheep hanging in a tree. In general, Azeris want the freshest meat possible, choosing butchers over pre-packaged fare. This meant that there were butcher shops just about everywhere, with both live and dead animals on display. One of our lunches in Xinaliq arrived in the same way: we got back from our horseback ride in the snow to a bloodstain and 2 feathers in the snow -- and had chicken for lunch.
• Televisions, everywhere. No matter where we were, there was always a TV blaring. The shows tended to be endless loops of funniest home videos and randomness like how to turn a lighter into a water gun... We did spend an entire evening drinking tea and watching TV in Quba.
• The random 11th century castle. We wrote about this when we wrote about the people. The size of it and its perfect condition,  its spot in the middle of a shanty town, our tour guide, and the odd jumble of ancient artefacts lying around, including the carved floor-plan, just waiting to be slipped into one of our backpacks, made this an unforgettable stop on the trip.
  
• The food. Of course, with animal carcasses hanging all over the place, Ty was in heaven (especially once said carcass was cooked and dipped in a special blend of spices). What, you may ask, did the world's most finicky eater survive on? Every meal is served with a pile of amazing bread, at least 2 different cheeses, and a plate of cucumbers, onions, rocket, parsley, cilantro and so on. I also discovered incredible oddities like hot yogurt soup (actually very delicious) and that bread spread with smetana and honey is the best breakfast in the world.
• Our caravansary hotel in Sheki. For about $50 (which is expensive in that part of the world), you can have a "suite" (sitting room, fireplace, bedroom, bathroom) in a caravansary. These were the stopping points on the Silk Route where the camels could be stabled downstairs, while the people had rooms upstairs. Quite thrilling to be surrounded by something so vibrantly old.

I'm not sure if we've left anything out, but don't worry... the next time you see us, every sentence will inevitably start with "In Azerbaijan, we...." and you'll be sick of hearing about the whole thing anyway. (edit… I’ve added a few parts to what Virginia wrote, and realised we’ve left a few places out… but I think we’d carry on writing forever if  we allowed ourselves more space. For now I leave you with the car full of apples, of which we saw two – Ty)

Anniversary, Christmas, Luke's visit, and Al Ain

Well, it's been a busy week.

We started the week off by celebrating our one-year anniversary. It's hard to believe that it's been a year already -- and we're still amazed at how much our lives have changed in that time. We celebrated by running a bunch of errands in Abu Dhabi (romantic, I know)... before heading for supper in a nice restaurant in the city (a bit more romantic, I tell ya).

The week was really marked by two events, though: Christmas (which you all know about) and our friend Luke's visit.

First off, I wasn't expecting Christmas to be such a big deal here. Being a Muslim country, and remembering the situation from when I lived in Saudi as a young girl, I thought Christmas would just go by without any notice at all. Instead, we were surprised to see Christmas lights up all over Abu Dhabi, as well as huge trees in the shopping centres. No Nativity scenes or anything, of course, but quite a few Santas and snowmen.

At school, we had been warned not to do any sort of celebrating, but then found that our Arabic teachers were the ones approaching us and wishing us "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year". We went through the school with cookies and candy canes, and everyone seemed really happy. See, they include us in their celebrations (like Eid), giving us food and gifts, so it would have been offensive for us *not* to have reciprocated.

Now, for Luke's visit: When we were in Mokpo, we befriended this awesome Scottish guy. Now, his parents live in Dubai and he is back in Scotland. For Christmas, he came to visit us, I mean, visit his family... Ty went up to Dubai to see him, then brought him back to our place. Although he was only here for 2 days, he got to see a lot of the desert life around us. Here are a few of his photos:

The boys got up at 6 am and drove out to the desert to catch the sunrise. I was, of course, going off to work and couldn't join them. Anyway, when YOU come visit us, you can do the same thing!

For the actual Christmas weekend, we went to visit my step-sister and her family in Al Ain. Al Ain is a really lovely town - not as big a city as Abu Dhabi, and not as small as Madinat Zayed. Built around a big oasis, it's always been a rather important place in the UAE history (the ruling family is from there).

Seeing as my past five Christmases have been in odd places, doing odd things (like surfing in Mexico, or singing until 5am in a Korean karaoke room), it was nice to have a "normal" Christmas with kids opening presents around a tree. It was a great, relaxing weekend, and a perfect way to finish off a rather hectic week.

Azerbaijan – Xinaliq

We decided that the magical two days we spent in Xinaliq needed a space of their own.

You’ve already met the gun-toting Ali Baba Schoemaker, who we met in Guba. He was a beginning, on our…

Road to Xinaliq

After tea at the family home in Guba, the screeching of tyres that announced his  arrival, and then accelerating off along the bumpy road in a way that left our cheeks behind, we began to see the scenery change. Villages sped past. The intense greenery was slowly replaced by dustings of snow in the trees. We climbed higher, the road became more windy, more bumpy. Then more icy. The snow deepened. The hills became mountains.

On we sped, hovering between fear of flying off the road, and awe at the white peaks, and deep valleys; into which we were likely to plunge at the slightest error from our confident driver.

We stopped to peer, we stopped to chat to men wisely putting chains on THEIR vehicle, we stopped to make our way over a place where an avalanche had taken the road. We waited as a heroic and triumphant Ali Baba willed the Lada through this mess, climbed back in, and soon enough, through ever deeper snow, wound into the valley where, up one steep side, Xinaliq lay, and has lain for 4000 odd years.   

   

Xinaliq Moments

The people were what really made the trip special for us. Each, especially those mentioned in the blog before, contributed to the moments we had.

Here is a sampling of what Xinaliq had to offer in moments: both strange and beautiful.

Faiq eagerly took us around the little village.

First were proudly shown their new cell tower at the top of the world,

 

and the local mosque, that’s it behind the hard working kid with the rake.

We later saw the local tea shop.

and the dung fires to be used for cooking, and heat,

and we saw the cemeteries, where people have long been buried.

We saw and met people, alive and well. People of the earth. Men who work as shepherds up the steep hills in deep, deep snow, and kill chickens or sheep for lunch in the town square or at the front door (the freshest meat we’ve eaten I’m sure), patch roofs with clay and straw, and now corrugated iron. Women who busy themselves at dawn fetching in pails of water, cook on dung fires, with babies at hip, or children under foot, make bread in mud ovens, make tea, make clothes, make every necessity conceivable. Late into the night they work, but working is living, and living is working. They seem content.

The children run and play and slide in the snow. They laugh. They work too. And go to school… sometimes. Sometimes, especially if they are girls.

They laugh, and have dirty hands.

    

We had jam, boiled down, half sugar half cherries, fit to melt your teeth out of your mouth. But good. You drink your tea though it. Your babies teeth on it. If you’re older you either have gold teeth or none. If you’re older still, you crochet warm shoes for babies, or make prized Persian rugs to hang round the house. Or - once mom has tightly swaddled baby, with strong arms, and tied this bundle with rope, the secured baby to a handmade cradle with yet more rope – if you are older still, you swiftly bang the cradle from side to side, child flying from one side to the other.

No lullaby is needed, not here. Grandma may not murmur and granddad may not sing, but bashing does the trick it seems. And if not, if baby later awakes and cries, a handful of salt from a vat, brought around to the family and guests to be blown on by each, then tossed over grandma’s shoulder… the older people here seem to know a thing or two. Baby didn’t make another sound.

We walked around some more that day and the next. We had hours on horseback, with Faiq and his staff always just ahead or to the side. All this time we were blown away by what we saw.

When all was said and done we left Xinaliq, not as easily as we’d come in, and, even after only two days, with changed hearts and minds, and not all that far from shedding a few tears.