Azerbaijan Abroad, Playing the Diplomatic Game

This past weekend, The Guardian‘s Comment is Free article by Mary Fitzgerald had some pointed words about Azerbaijan and its free speech record. She attended a reception in Westminster City Hall held by Azerbaijan that night, headlined by Ell & Nikki, the Eurovision darlings. The evening was packed full of typical Azerbaijani PR material and she describes her take on that evening in England and its reflection on what is happening in Azerbaijan thus:

Apologists for the regime – and I met many that night – will tell you that the last presidential election was not “quite as bad” as the ones preceding it. The evidence supports this – yet all have been marred by violence, intimidation, allegations of fraud and suppression of dissent. Last year, Reporters Without Borders (RSF) reported that journalists and bloggers “work in a climate of endemic impunity and under persistent pressure from the authorities”. A number of activists are currently staging a hunger strike in protest at the harsh sentences meted out to opposition activists involved in a quashed demonstration in April this year.

It’s embarrassing, to say the least, for those who want to befriend this energy-rich republic. Responding to the April incident, the European parliament’s president Jerzy Buzek called for the release of all political prisoners in Azerbaijan, and stressed that Azerbaijan’s relationship with the EU “would become even stronger with more progress on human rights and political freedoms”.

So, not really in praise of Azerbaijan’s promise of growth and development, you see.

Ms. Fitzgerald’s criticism isn’t a new thing around here, but it does speak to a reality that people in the US, and the West generally, need to keep in mind about Azerbaijan: just as with any other country, their functions abroad can betray the realities of governance at home. The leadership here in Azerbaijan is likely fully aware of how they act abroad and conscientious of the image they wish to portray to the outside world and to foreign governments. From the message they deliver about Azerbaijan’s fruition as a new democracy all the way down to the cut of their suits, these folks are no fools and can probably play the international diplomatic game as well as anyone.  It’s to their credit that they have a solid grasp of their diplomatic missions abroad.  You can’t fault them for trying to portray an appealing and progressive face to the rest of the world.

To illustrate this, you don’t have to go far. Recently, President Ilham Aliyev sat down with David Frost (of Frost-Nixon fame) for a somewhat lengthy interview here in Baku. If you can get past Frost’s strange mannerisms and cadence to actually get to Aliyev’s answers, you’ll find the interview an interesting look at how Azerbaijan is able to portray itself to the world. Then go back and contrast with Mary Fitzgerald’s descriptions of the situation in Azerbaijan.

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Photojournalism: The Lives of the Pipeline

 

After two years of living here in Azerbaijan, I still enjoy the photo essays and documenting of Azerbaijani lives as they are affected by various contexts, such as a massive oil pipeline. There are so many aspects of living in Azerbaijan that few will ever witness that we can only rely on those willing to travel here and take the pictures, write the stories. Last year, Amanda Rivkin was one of those people. She took a grant from National Geographic to the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan (BTC) pipeline to document the lives of the pipelines route.

This time around, it turns out Amanda is back for more. She just couldn’t get enough of Azerbaijan and its (and Georgia’s and Turkey’s) pipeline. She’ll be hanging out in Azerbaijan until next summer on a Fulbright scholarship, documenting the lives of the pipeline. This is an opportunity to get a look at parts of Azerbaijan that even a rugged adventurist might not be able to see. In her past work here at the BTC, Amanda shot images even the biggest journalism players couldn’t access.

You can check out Amanda’s work by going to her website and flipping through her pictures. On the top left of her page, you can see what she did on the BTC last year, among others. If you’re impressed and want to see more, check out her new project page. You have an opportunity to support more work being done to document and reveal to the world the lives of people in Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey. We’ll be able to get a feel for the types of landscapes and lives that surround the pipeline, a geopolitically loaded project, and the conditions in which our oil-reliant world is enriched.

Where Does Azerbaijan Belong?

The CRRC has a new report out detailing gender attitude differences in the Caucasus and comparing those attitudes to the wider set of data from the Pew Center’s Global Attitudes Project. What you get is a picture that lifts up the differences in Caucasus countries in contrast to Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. The takeaway:

Armenia and Azerbaijan tend to emphasize more traditional gender roles, and in global terms are often closer in attitude to Middle Eastern and Asian countries. Georgia, meanwhile, is more inclined to aspire to gender equality, and in this sense is closer to countries in Western Europe and the Americas. However, the picture is complicated and, using other data from the Caucasus Barometer, the report shows that gender perceptions in the South Caucasus are deeply nuanced, and do not fit into a conventional picture of equality versus tradition.

The report (pdf) is a quick and informative read. What I’m interested in here, though, is what is not in this report. One of the glaring absences in the Pew report is data from Central Asia. For obvious reasons, countries like Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan are rather inaccessible. And from what I can tell, it looks like Uzbekistan last participated in the Global Attitudes Survey in 2002. Not exactly a recipe for a reliable data set from Central Asia. Kyrgystan and Tajikistan aren’t represent at all, nor are Iran and Afghanistan. Without the work of the CRRC, we wouldn’t have comparable information for Georgia, Armenia, or Azerbaijan, either.

I’m willing to posit, though, that if we had that information, we would see vast similarities between Azerbaijan and the Central Asian countries. I’d even go so far as to say that in addition to the geographical grouping we give Azerbaijan, with the other Caucasus countries, it’d be appropriate to say that Azerbaijan fits right in in Central Asia. Websites such as NewEurasia, a recent find that I’m really enjoying, leave their reporting to only the countries on the other side of the Caspian (not sure if that’s just because they don’t have an Azerbaijan source or not). It’s fairly obvious why I think that Azerbaijan shares so much with those countries: Muslim populations, former Soviet states, natural resource wealth, strong Russian leadership legacies, and more. If you’ve read Chasing the Sea, an account from a former PCV in Uzbekistan, the similarities, all the way from food and clothing choices to government apparatuses, are striking. Reading Hooman Majd’s The Ayatollah Begs to Differ offers more similarities that can extend throughout countries of the former Persian Empire, which would includes a significant chunk of the Middle East and Central Asia, as well as the Caucasus. The influences from the Russians, Iranians, and the myriad of other conquerors of the region have left impressions that mark the entire region.

This post doesn’t really have a larger point to make. What I’m trying to say is that I think it’s completely legitimate to include Azerbaijan in the region of “Central Asia”, even though it’s geographically separated from the typical list of countries because it’s on the wrong side of the Caspian. Whether it’s a fruitful comparison to make, I’m not sure, but I’d be interested in seeing information like that gleaned from the CRRC and the Pew surveys produced to compare the typical Central Asian countries and Azerbaijan.

How Being Polite Can Be Frustrating

I’m currently reading a short book called The Ayatollah Begs to Differ, by an Iranian who was raised in the West by his parents, members of Iran’s diplomatic class in the 1960s and 70s. Hooman Majd tells his story in short vignettes. He deconstructs the minutiae of his return trips to his homeland, visiting government officials and ayatollahs and old friends. His insights into Iranian culture are particularly vivid, as he is at the same time an Iranian at heart and steeped in Western culture. Being bilingual is certainly an asset in bridging that gulf. As Majd recollects his stories, he notes the persistence of ta’arouf, a form of politesse permeating nearly every interaction in Iranian culture. I can tell you, this idea of ta’arouf is thick in Azeri culture, as well.

Throughout the book, Majd explains the ta’arouf in almost every possible situation, whether it is in his meetings with the Iranian Foreign Minister, displayed in the minister’s offering his service while not really meaning it, or talking with taxi drivers about how much to pay, in which the taxi driver insists that paying for the taxi ride is an act unworthy but really just refuses the payment until you overwhelm with your own insistence that you must pay the fare. Of ta’arouf, Majd writes:

Western observers often define ta’arouf as extreme Iranian hospitality, or as a Persian form of elaborate etiquette, but since Westerners naturally engage in ta’arouf too (as everyone who has ever complimented a host or hostess on what was actually a bad meal knows), it’s easy to miss its true significance and its implications in Persian culture. The white lies that good manners dictate we tell in the West and general polite banter or gracious hospitality cannot begin to describe what for Iranians is a cultural imperative that is about manners, yes, but is also about gaining advantage, politically, socially, or economically, as much as anything else. One might be tempted to think of ta’arouf as passive-aggressive behavior with a peculiarly Persian hue, but although it can be, it cannot be defined solely so.

I can tell you: the Azeri culture that I experience is thick with ta’arouf. I cannot purchase something without hearing the phrase, “qonaq ol”, or “be a guest”, meaning that I shouldn’t pay. This goes for big meals to short taxi rides. Last time I was in Baku, I was told to be a guest for a cup of coffee I bought. And every greeting and goodbye is often a long trail of phrases that almost knock you over. This could involve asking “how are you?” in every permutation possible. This sounds great, a place of extreme courtesy, right? Well, for any foreigner who’s in Azerbaijan this can be a strong change of pace. And when the seller tells you to be a guest, the correct response is to insist on paying. This next part from Majd is right on, as well, describing the same tactic I use when walking in the street here:

Any visitor to Iran will also describe Tehran traffic as perhaps the worst in the world with, paradoxically for people known for their extreme hospitality and good manners, the rudest drivers of any country. True, for someone behind the wheel of an automobile, man or woman, is anonymous. There is good reason why Iranian drivers avoid eye contact with other drivers and pedestrians, for if they make eye contact, their veil of anonymity has been lifted, the gates to the walls of their homes have been unlocked and they must become social Iranians, which means they must practice ta’arouf. Many a time as a pedestrian I have made every effort to make eye contact with a driver bearing down on me at full speed as I step off a curb, and when I manage to, the car inevitably stops and the driver, usually with a smile, gestures “you first” with his hands.

It’s true. I can’t tell you how well this works in Azerbaijan. We PCVs have discussed that, often, the famous hospitality in Azerbaijan comes most commonly after you have engaged in a bit of the ta’arouf which makes your greetings long-winded marathons of niceties. Once an Azeri is no longer anonymous, the hospitality shines through. With the anonymity, you’ve got a much different situation on your hands.

For someone who’s not used to this state of affairs, it can be exhausting. It turns buying knick-knacks into a chore, when everyone knows what the end result is from the get-go. The other unintended consequence, as far as westerners are concerned, is that it leads to a frustratingly contradictory view of the people we are dealing with. While some of these folks can be some of the most generous people we’ve come across, offering their best, it can also lead to these same people saying things they don’t really intend to follow through on. Our Azeri hosts may say that they’ll provide something because it is the proper and polite thing to say, yet with no intention of delivering. You can imagine the frustration as we exclaim, “They just lie to us!” Yet, at the same time, we need to understand that this is less about lying than it is about trying to be a polite and appropriate host.

In a work setting, these frustrations can be even more pronounced, as my colleagues will want to make sure that they are exercising the right amount of politeness with me, the foreigner. And yet, they just can’t say no when that is what they are thinking. Efforts to appease someone like me as an advisor or someone who is in a higher position means putting forth an effort many western businesspeople would find inefficient and ineffective. However, ta’arouf has its role in business, as well:

American businesses and businessmen are known to succeed with brashness, determination, and sometimes even a certain amount of ruthlessness; Iranian businessmen succeed rather more quietly with a good dose of ta’arouf and in such a way that doors are opened before the ones opening the doors realize they have done so.

Reading The Ayatollah Begs to Differ has provided me a great voice to describe some of my experiences here in Azerbaijan. You can find a fantastic essay adapted from the book here. That essay, in particular, gives a great summary of why Americans have a very difficult time understanding Iran and Iran’s politics. While it might be too easy to say that everything Majd offers fits neatly with Azeris as much as Iranians, his writing is clearly appropriate for understanding my time in Azerbaijan, and very clearly shows a few ways in which Azerbaijan relates to the neighbors to the south.

Where is the Stratification in Azeri Society?

When I was a sophomore in college, I remember talking to my economics professor about the effects of a large gap between the rich and the poor in society. In the end, we came to the agreement that it’s likely that when that gap gets so big, the gulf between classes so wide, those on the lower end of the spectrum would be demotivated, disheartened, disinterested in working hard to move up. I’m not sure how measurable that statement is, but I remember the conversation and it reminds me of Azerbaijan in a very specific way, mostly having to do with what can best be described as the stratification of Azerbaijani society.

It would be way too extreme to say that Azerbaijan is a place where people are demotivated, disheartened, and disinterested. In fact, that would go against what I’ve learned over the past two years by working closely with many Azeri colleagues. From young students to mid-career professionals, I’ve been lucky to work with some of the most inspiring of people, people who have come from small outlying villages to educate themselves, get to university and, in some cases, find ways to keep improving themselves when those opportunities aren’t available here in Azerbaijan.

Yet, I do think about the stratification of Azerbaijani society, and was reminded of it by this paper, just out by Gary Pollock and Ken Roberts (thanks to the Caucasus Research Resource Centers). I haven’t read the full paper yet, but it does contain this interesting statement in the abstract:

The main differences between classes of individuals are driven primarily by education, which result in differences in attitudes and (to some extent) individual lifestyles. It is argued that in economic and socio-political terms there are as yet just two real classes among actual and potential employees in the South Caucasus–middle classes and lower classes–and that although these classes differ in their standards of living and political dispositions, these are unlikely to become bases for conflict between them.

I don’t have much to add to that except for my own experience here, which consists mostly of visiting the homes of my friends and colleagues. When you walk into anyone’s home here in Azerbaijan, you’ll invariably be met by similar environs and similar attitudes. Thick reddish carpets dominate here in the south and they’ll stretch along the floors and walls. Comfortable chairs for guests butt up against a low-sitting table, set with nuts and fruits and candy. It’s a great setting to walk into, especially coupled with warm greetings, pecks on the cheek, and endless ways to ask “how are you?” As the authors wrote above, it’s true that there are certain things which will show a differing standard of living from house to house, but the proximity of one defined living standard (however that is defined) to another is so close to another that the difference is moot. It’s likely that here in Lənkəran, most of the people have experienced washing clothes by hand, have neighbors and family who do so, or continue to do so today. And clothes-washing is only one example. You could say the same for having internet, cars, western- or eastern-style toilets, gas-stoves. To have or not have these things is normal. The differences in standard of living between the middle- and lower-classes probably aren’t so defined as to allow for a class-based envy. As the Soviet Union fell, everyone likely had a similar experience that put them all closer in terms of class (it’s hard to differentiate yourself when the electricity is out the majority of the day and gas comes to your house intermittently, if at all).

This isn’t to say that these material things don’t matter here–they do. When you walk into that home, the host definitely wants to show off the best to their guest. Yet, I would have a hard time trying to posit that there is necessarily a class-based animosity sprouting from them. Considering the close temporal and physical proximity of all the differences for most Azerbaijanis, it’s difficult to regard the stratification of Azeri society as anything more than seeing the folks who are at the top, and then everyone else. It’s possible (probable?) that this could change over the next decade. More children will grow up in households where it’s normal to have a washing machine, and odd to not have one. People could find that their experiences are more and more separated by class as Azerbaijan’s experiment in capitalism continues. For now, however, proximity is the name of the game and class animosity stays low.

Where’s the Shift?

Maybe you’ve read this article from CNBC Magazine already. It’s a fairly general article, called “Power Shift”, giving an overview of political and economic movements over the past decade and, more specifically, over the past year in Azerbaijan. There aren’t a whole lot of new or surprising facets of the article, but there are some interesting notes, such as this one:

Last year, the UK invested almost £1bn in the country or 51.9% of total foreign investment in Azerbaijan; BP, the oil giant, accounted for the vast majority of this. The next biggest investor was the US (9%), with Turkey contributing 3.6%.

That’s an impressive drop-off. Obviously, investments from oil companies are going to be the lion’s share of investments in a petrostate, but I can imagine that as Azerbaijan’s oil and gas reserves rise in importance, countries like China and India will want to muscle their way into the discussion, using foreign investment to build the relationship. Over the past year, China has started a few initiatives in Azerbaijan, including a new Confucious Institute in Baku. For what it’s worth, a lovely pedestrian boulevard was made here in Lənkəran back about 2005 or 2006, though I hear that the Chinese who built it received quite a bit of racist grief while they were here. And I’ve said before (as well as Eli) that Mandarin Chinese might be a more advantageous language for Azerbaijani students to learn.

Another interesting set of tidbits was is this one:

A huge international sea port is also being built on the Caspian to facilitate oil shipments from Kazakhstan. An international airport at Gabala is planned, while a terminal is being added to Heydar Aliyev International Airport in Baku. Tourism is expanding, thanks to the construction of several new hotels and resorts in Baku and along the coast.

Seaport? Check. That makes sense to me. That might be very helpful in turning Azerbaijan’s geography into a more advantageous asset, as I expressed here. An international airport in Gabala (Qəbələ)? This is a little confusing. I don’t mean to say that international airports are a bad thing, but let’s recall Azerbaijan’s size and it’s needs. Baku’s international airport is already more than satisfying the country’s needs and is scheduled for an expansion. No one will be complaining about the crazy crowds at Heydar Aliyev Airport except maybe during Eurovision. And there are already a bunch of airports all over Azerbaijan, including Zaqatala, Gəncə, and our very own in Lənkəran. I think there are more, too. Adding another sounds a little silly, unless there is something I’m missing here.

Also, that Azerbaijani tourism thing is creeping in again, with the fuzzy numbers to back it up. The article goes on to list the hotel projects in Baku that are aimed at tourism, supposedly. From my vantage point, this is definitely a situation where hoteliers are banking on supply-side forces to keep them afloat. I would be surprised if demand is even a blip on the screen. Further in the article, references are made to a magical million-tourist number. There is no way there are a million tourists even coming to Azerbaijan. We’ve already looked at this. I’m not sure how 17,000 turns into 1,000,000. And let’s not discuss the visa issue, either. Our esteemed writer, Pamela Ann Smith, probably needs to do a little more fact-checking on that score.

One of the things I do like about the article, though, is this note on education:

Noting that many Azeri students are currently studying in the UK, Alp adds that British universities are now “looking to form joint venture partnerships” with Azeri institutions to provide “world-class engineers, scientists and linguists.”

If they are sincere about that, it would be a major boost to Azerbaijan. Any way to boost the educations system here would be fantastic. As it stands today, the leading organizations and companies know that Azerbaijanis are not trained well enough here in their own country to be able to compete on an international level. From Doctorate education on down, no education level is even satisfactory for Azerbaijanis. If, however, partnerships like this mentioned above can flower, Azerbaijan could actually have the human capital to provide for itself. Instead, the major construction projects all go to foreign firms with foreign workers and top management in many companies has to be foreign to be run effectively. This goes for nearly every sector, from banking to tourism to agriculture to manufacturing and construction.

The article does highlight some possible future bright spots, which is encouraging as agriculture and other non-oil sectors grow. Being able to strengthen sectors outside of oil and gas is going to be key to actually developing a more equitable and democratic Azerbaijan. Until then, however, we’ll have to watch as the monopolies and the wealthy “super-elite” have their way with Azerbaijan’s resource wealth.

As If You Hadn’t Heard Enough About Visas to Azerbaijan

We have talked on this blog about visas way too much. You will be happy when this blog ceases to talk about visas to Azerbaijan. Yet, again, Azerbaijan and visas are in the news. You will soon be able to get an e-Visa:

Azerbaijani Culture Ministry Apparatus head Firudin Gurbanov said e-visas for tourists arriving in Azerbaijan maybe issued from 2012.

Work is already underway in this direction, he said.

“Persons will appeal and receive a response electronically in Azerbaijan in accordance with the international experience. Key technical issues must be solved for transition to this system,” Gurbanov said.

This is a fascinating development. Before I had heard of it here a few months ago, I had no idea what an e-Visa was. To find out, I found myself flipping through the Kingdom of Cambodia’s e-Visa page, a scintillating read (they even have customer testimonials!) If Azerbaijan is actually going this way, that could mean positive developments in the ease of travel to this country, a necessary requirement if the government ever wants to make good on their pledge to promoting tourism. This is certainly a positive development for the upcoming talks with the European Union about the Azerbaijani visa regime, and a good sign for Eurovision fans.

The other note that I picked up was slipped in right at the end of that article:

Now, foreigners arriving in Azerbaijan will be able to obtain visas at the airport.

After this debacle, I cannot say if I’m glad, or even more frustrated, to hear this news.

Whispers of the Village: Who Are These Americans?

Peace Corps Volunteers in Azerbaijan know that when they arrive to their sites it’s not likely that everyone will be awaiting their arrival, open arms ready to embrace the service we are here to carry out. Most people likely are surprised by the presence of a foreigner, and then further surprised to see that the foreigner is sticking around for two years, working at a local organization, be it a school or library or, in my case, a bank. I’m here in Lənkəran, a sizable city, and I’m confident that most people would recognize me as someone who has been around a while, but probably have no idea why I am here. I can only imagine the conversations that are or are not happening about my being here. Some folks know, and I’m able to explain, to some extent, that I’m from Peace Corps and what Peace Corps is. Yet, despite all our chances to get on TV around here, and wildly popular videos like this one, most folks still don’t really know.

With that in mind, I was pointed to a fascinating read from Global Voices Turkmenistan (thanks, Ani). A discussion board took off discussing the existence of an American with a camera who’s been teaching English at a neighboring village:

I don’t know whether you have also a similar situation in the area you live but in the neighboring village an American is working as an English teacher. It is obvious that they [the American teachers] aren’t coming here because of the salary of a village school. At the celebrative ‘toy’ events he is filming everything so that some aunts (elder women) from the village started to swear: ‘The haram who should be swallowed by the earth’ [a Turkmen expression meant for someone who is wished to disappear]. He is exhausting our patience by using his camera. What are your views about them? What do you think they are doing in Turkmenistan?

It was not difficult to see this one coming:

They are learning the economic, political and social aspects of the [Turkmen] people. Hence, they are constructing a ‘vicious’ strategy. In short they learn the anatomy of the people, they learn the strengths and the weaknesses. Like in a struggle they use the opponents’ weaknesses.

And this one was a little blunt:

Who knows what their aims are. We should fear them.

Read the fuller discussion at Global Voices.

That these people are expressing distrust and fear isn’t strange. The concept of joining an organization to go live in the largely-forgotten villages of developing countries is a difficult concept for a lot of Americans to understand; even more so for the people we are living with. On my first day here at AccessBank in Lənkəran, one of the loan officers asked if I was FBI or a spy (I informed him that the FBI is domestic). A strong legacy throughout Central Asia and the former Soviet states is an understanding that foreigners are likely spies. You can imagine how this might affect one’s Peace Corps service.

The fascinating part of that discussion from Turkmenistan, however, is how it turns from the people who express fear to those who push for a more open-mindedness:

I am currently working in the Azatlyk (‘Freedom’) Farmers Union in Yoloten. I am video taping whatever I see because here it looks like Afghanistan. Am I also a spy? LOL to you. Go to see America as well, to see their villages with cameras. You won’t be called a spy. Learn and let your thinking progress. Rather than gossiping about America let your thinking grow.

And, finally, someone with knowledge of Peace Corps pipes in:

The English teachers are being sent by the Peace Corps. Likewise, our people are being sent to the States for learning English. There is nothing to be afraid of. Our people can also video tape there. I have seen with my own eyes that how many of them have been taught English. If my family had allowed me I would have brought a girl to live with us if we were a family but the relatives at home didn’t allow and the Corps said that they don’t locate their people in Ashgabat. When I asked why they said to teach the village people English and second they said it is easier to learn the Turkmen language in the villages than in the cities.

So there it is. If you read the lengthier discussion at Global Voices, you’ll see how the conversation twists from confusion and fear, crosses over to conspiracies of religious imperialism and espionage, and finally ends up with people pushing for a more open view of what’s happening as Peace Corps goes into a country.

The key here, it seems to me, is that this former Soviet space is a place where good information is incredibly hard to come by. News outlets and Facebook are closely monitored. Most people don’t have access to sources of reliable information, and those who have the information are intent on guarding it for their own purposes. You can watch this dynamic all the way from down here in my bank branch with various workers and the branch manager, all the way up to people high in the government. This is a situation that breeds confusion and fear of the unknown, because everything is unknown. No one can be sure that the messages they are receiving are true. And no one is sure that someone else doesn’t have a secret on them. As more people are able to travel from these places, expose themselves to reliable outlets, and acquaint themselves more readily with the unknown, that is when these feelings of insecurity and fear will subside.

Familiar Rumblings for Peace Corps Turkmenistan

The Peace Corps news of out of Central Asia right now is that the fall crop of Volunteers set to be heading into the Turkmenistan is facing some delays and, possibly, reassignments. Eurasianet has the story here:

Reports have circulated this week that the Peace Corps is once again having troubles in Turkmenistan, the independent émigré site chrono-tm.org reports. An anonymous tipster said that the latest batch of volunteers from the US were supposed to come to Ashgabat in early October, but were delayed, and may possibly even have been reassigned. The current group of volunteers was said to be facing the expiration of their visas on October 1.

For anyone who has gone through the Peace Corps application process, that has got to be painful. For those of you not familiar, the Peace Corps application process takes anywhere from six to 15 months, maybe longer in some cases (mine took 12 months). Then imagine that 10 days before you leave your home in America, your family, your friends, possibly a previous job or your university town, you’ve sold everything you’ve got and re-organized your duffel-bagged wardrobe to reflect the conservative culture of a Central Asian country, and then you get notice that, in fact, the country you are supposed to go to, with the feel-good mission of development and cultural exchange, tells you that you aren’t wanted.

That’s a rough way to ‘start’ your Peace Corps service.

I say this is a familiar story because the same thing happened back in Turkmenistan in 2009. The reason this post relates at all to Azerbaijan is that a significant population of our group of PCVs that came in in 2009 were transplants from a rejected group of to-be Turkmenistan PCVs. Neat, huh? This creates a whole bunch of problems, as delays are wont to do. Not only are logistics all screwed up, but that’s also a decent chunk of money that gets upset (at least, a significant chunk when your budget is small already). When Volunteers don’t get placed in their original country, Peace Corps has to figure out where they can go, or if they’ll just wait for another assignment. Lots of logistics, the job of which I do not envy.

To be sure, Peace Corps Volunteers in Azerbaijan have similar challenges to those in other Central Asian and South Caucasus countries, and probably similar to those of Peace Corps Volunteers worldwide. We have our misunderstandings and miscommunication (and non-communication) with the government here and with the colleagues we work with. And it can be shockingly difficult to integrate with our adoptive communities. Yet, as far as I know, Peace Corps Azerbaijan hasn’t suffered an all-out rejection. When things get rough, the top players are able to step in and cooler heads prevail, allowing Peace Corps to continue the English teaching, the youth developing, and the community economic development, and allowing both Azerbaijan and the US to benefit from our time here.  As usual with Peace Corps, however, you have to be ready for anything.

With all that in mind, maybe the new group of Azerbaijan PCVs, set to arrive in a few days, will get some unexpected additions to their crew. Hopefully, though, our friends in Turkmenistan will get it sorted out and those Americans headed to Turkmenistan can continue on their way.

Azeris in Georgia, Staying Put

I hadn’t come across this story until today, but I find it a fascinating dynamic concerning migration, Georgia, and Azerbaijan, from Eurasianet:

Economic collapse, war and nationalist government policies prompted thousands of Georgia’s ethnic Azeris to head to neighboring Azerbaijan during the early 1990s. About 80 percent of the remaining estimated 350,000 ethnic Azeris in Georgia live in the southeastern region of Kvemo Kartli, a predominantly agricultural area.

The Azerbaijani government has no specific data on how many ethnic Azeri migrants are currently in Azerbaijan, but migration expert Azer Allahveranov, president of Baku’s Eurasian Platform for Civic Initiatives, a non-governmental organization, estimates that more than 95 percent of the 100,000 Georgian citizens believed to live in the country are ethnic Azeris.

Faced with problems legalizing their status and settling “successfully” in Azerbaijan, some of these migrants now are returning to Georgia, said Aliovsat Aliyev, director of the Baku-based Migration Center, a non-profit think-tank. Improved economic and living conditions in Georgia, relative to the early 1990s, are contributing to the trend, he added.

When you travel from the far western tip of Azerbaijan, from Qazax in to Georgia, on your way to Tbilisi, thats ethnic Azeri territory. And not only in that area, but also in areas north of the finger that ends with Balaken. Likewise, there are significant ethnic Georgian populations in those northwestern Azerbaijan regions bordering the Caucasus neighbors.

One of the reasons this above article is interesting to me is that I’ve met quite a few Azerbaijanis who were born in Georgia or who still have family there, but have since moved to Baku or other regions (but mostly Baku). Rahman, the branch manager at Lənkəran’s AccessBank is one. We have some Peace Corps staff, as well, who follow that same line. At least one of our Azeri language instructors was born in Georgia and moved south.  Interestingly, none of these people know the Georgian language, so it seems integration that way wasn’t really a high priority.

Another interesting part about that story, beyond those personal connections, is how the Azerbaijani government sees those ethnic Azeris residing in Georgia. The article posits that Azerbaijan would actually prefer for those Azeris to stay in Georgia in an effort to increase Azerbaijani influence in the Georgian government. Azerbaijan wants to use another state’s democracy to its advantage. Smooth move, slick. And, incredibly, the article describes how the incentives currently favor those Azeris staying in Georgia, and more Azeris moving back there:

A group of Azerbaijani entrepreneurs, for example, is planning to open hospitals in Georgia, added Shovgi Mekhtizade, an attaché at the Azerbaijani embassy in Tbilisi, the Turan news agency reported.

In addition, the State Oil Company of the Azerbaijani Republic (SOCAR) is providing economic incentives for Azeris to remain in Georgia. The company’s Georgian subsidiary, SOCAR Energy Georgia, one of Georgia’s largest investors, has created about 3,000 new jobs in Georgia; half of those jobs are held by ethnic Azeris, SOCAR Energy Georgia Chief Executive Officer Mahir Mammadov told Vesti.az in a June 12 interview.

“I know many such people who did return to Georgia,” said Mammadov in reference to ethnic Azeri migrants. “If earlier there was talk that Azerbaijanis and Georgians are leaving Georgia, I think now there will be talk about their return.”

Some ethnic Azeris migrants complained that Baku hampered their ability to resettle by erecting bureaucratic barriers. Azerbaijani legislation does not permit dual citizenship, and many Azeri migrants “face red-tape and corruption” to receive the papers needed to stay and work in Azerbaijan, according to one migrant.

The movement back to Georgia probably isn’t going to be huge, as Azerbaijan is the country with the more rapidly growing economy. Yet, the movement is still significant. One wonders how Azeris there feel about the differences in the political and corruption situations from one side of the border to the other. Also, if the Azerbaijani health system is any indicator, you may want to remain skeptical about those hospitals.