Artsakh

I took the week to visit Nagorno Karabakh - known as Artsakh to many Armenians. The republic is not recognized and it is considered "breakaway region." It is a defecto state and functions quiet well. One could make a strong case that it is more democratic than Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Armenia. Armenians fought a bloody war for independence of the region when the Soviet Union began to crumble.



I took a marshutka (minivan) for a seven hour journey. Despite being sandwiched between two large men reeking of cigarettes, the journey was tolerable. The marshutka snaked across southern Armenia with varying rocky landscapes. Once across the Karabakh border larger and greener mountains greeted us. Within 30 minutes I was in love with the lush, alpine landscape.

I arrived in Shushi, a historic city that served as the intellectual and artistic capital of the Armenians, Persians, and Azeries. My bread and breakfast host wanted to walk me through the old roads of the town dotted with white stones. A heavy fog had set over the town. Badly scarred by the war, most buildings - both Soviet and historic lie in ruins. A population of 3,000 or so keep life going and much restoration is underway.



I adored the family I stayed with. I played piano with the daughter, practiced my Armenian with the son, and spoke about the realities of life today and hopes for tomorrow for the people of Artsakh. I drank milk and ate yogurt (matzoon) from the neighbor's cow. I also had my first taste of mulberry vodka. A delicious drink that leaves one without a hangover and somehow more energized in the morning.

I also connected with a fellow diasporan and met her host family. We ate lentils, tomatoes, cucumbers and bread and drank. Later the men in the host family taught us Artsakh dancing which includes a lot of very quick steps, feet stomping and clapping.