My shoes and Yerevan...

Almost to my surprise, I see my feet walking the streets of Yerevan... I like to think that they recognise each other with a mixture of reserve and happiness...

The cafes and restaurants recognise me, and some of the waiters apparently do as well...

Summer make the streets bloom with green squares full of flowers, cafes and fountains, the men still there, with the same pointy mocassinos, the same black trousers and silky kind of t-shirt (black of course) that was perhaps under the jackets the last time I saw them... they still eating seeds and talking to each other with the overhanging bellies and their smell of rancid sweat... cheap sunglasses have been added.... There are exemptions of course... some alternatives hang around... some hip hopers.. and fair share oh heavies... after all one of the most known Armenian bands System of a Down do very well overseas... but the black dressed seed eaters are a noticeable majority (even if some go for beige, partricuallarlly if the have mobiles)

The women still here as well, my dearly admired Armenian women... they seem to have pushed even further the limits of materials science in terms of textile stretchiness, the levels of discomfort tolerance at such compressed dress code, the size of the stilettos has overpass the heights that traditional physics is able to explain, the g-strings are only to be seen in the anti-material dimension and the colour range of the clothes in contrast with the hair, make up of their lips and eyelids, definitively escapes the range of normal human vision... There are exemptions of course... But seriously... I really believe that if this country were to give their women a more prominent role in running government institutions, Armenia would be much better off... Adventurous aesthetics reflects, decision making power, particularly in societies as structured as this one...


The music still sounding... the international baroque festival, the Tokyo String Quartet, The Armenian Philharmonic and the young composers festival happening over the next 3 weeks!

The work I’m doing is a review of what I did last year, and an expansion into further products for exports for the EU.... but I’m working for the Americans! I worked with the ASME project last year while here with the EU and seems to have made an impression because they brought me back here almost to my surprise, we had talk about it last year.... but it seemed to complicated... as all USAID funded programmes need to employ Americans, flying American airlines (The Fly America Act!)... I’m not American and there were no American lines from Holland to here... but yeah... they agree to by pass all those issues... (EU programs are required as well to employ EU citizens, and so on)

Is quite interesting to see the different working mentalities, the EU gave me some Euros and sent me here... no office, no nothing... I had to work it all out by my self... the Americans picked me up from the airport, put me in the Marriot (poshest hotel here), and a team of people that came and introduced them selves and knew who and what I was doing. The EU does paper, legislation, institutional support, capacity building and so on... this guys do market research, upgrade factories, take Armenians to food expos, they are in the move constantelly...

Big part of my life has been about breaking my preconceptions; I grow up in society that had preconceptions towards Americans (gringos), Jewish, British, other Europeans, homosexuals, capitalists, communists, Turks, artists, body builders, rugby players, drug users, etc (Argentina of the 70’s-80’s was complicated, and so is my family)

Since then I try to break with all them, and I’m proud of having done so, however and even more since the Bush reign of terror, I’m very “anti American” and tend to put them all in the same basket... and here I am...

Is VERY refreshing to hear Americans criticize they own government actions and foreign policy, I guess the ones I’m working with have the option of being outside and see how the world see them. Some of the guys I have partially talk here have said the roughest things I heard saying...

I suggested that in the next elections 90% of decision for the new president should be based on American votes and 10% on a global election process... after all, the actions of their government impact the rest of us... and we don’t get to choose them... the guys here liked the idea... but I don’t think is going to go far do...


Anyway... I went with some of the younger guys here to the opening of a fruit drying plant in a village (not far from the place in the picture), based on supporting the cooperative of fruit planters... it was cool... very cool... big horovats (grilled meat), home made wine, vodka (of course), local musicians... and so on...

it was a beautiful afternoon and then night, big full moon and warm... they drinking lead to a lot of dancing on which I shamelessly took part (some local dancing it looks very much like pericon and malambo, Argentina’s traditional dance!)... I even went for a haka at the end... that caused too much impression as some o the children run away... but anyway... it was good to feel that the dancing has such a plainfield effect... mayor, politician, cleaner, planter, foreigner... we are the same there....

after the dancing the singing comes up... and man... still give me goose bumps.... Armenian history is very sad... and so are some of the songs... you dance to celebrate being alive, but you sing to remember the ones that are gone... either killed or emigrated....

in such musical country like this, singing is seriously amazing... this ladies would sing so beautifully sad... that I just had to cry... I had no idea what they were saying... but I knew what they were about... an old lady came and gave me a hug... the translator told me she did it because I’m away from family as well... and thanks to my family is that i can afford to be here... strong stuff, mate...

Some of the songs go back to the 3rd and 4th century (remember this a 3000 years old culture!)... and they all know them... I feel sometime envious of that (as with Maori at home in NZ), as they have such strong connection with their history and roots... while people like me seems to have problems even to explain where I live...

Is good to be here do...

Normal Holland and the Achterhoek

I remember coming to Vibeke’s native Holland after we left Mozambique... and I remember feeling that everything was so nice and organized that it was “not normal”, I find Holland (the Nederlands, as they like to call it here) a wonderfully abnormal country... just because they take a very wide view of normality....

The chaos we normally experience in the developing world seems “more normal” to me... that a place where all looks like some omnipotent grandma has been cleaning and making order overnight... where bicycles rule and everything has a legal framework around it, discussing issues rationally is the national occupation, where people complain that 25 % of the population can't afford to go in holidays, where you can go and buy a spliff legally, get your self a professional prostitute from a window shop in a normal house, marry you same sex partner or chose euthanasia as way to die...

And here we are again, in what is now pretty much an anual summer migration out of NZ

But anyway... Vibeke’s original Holland, where her parents and family live is deep rural Holland... no the one that tourist get to see... she lives in the East... in the Achterhoek... and spent most our time in the near Barchem... her parents and family are still close related to farming, either as ex, hobby, or actual farmers...

Seeing where she comes from was eye-opening for me, after all, what we knew from each other was only what we told each other and our “history” in our adopted NZ... seeing her history of cycling 20 km to go to school in a rural town, seeing her pictures wining prices as show jumping rider, seeing how “normal” and somehow privileged life she had... made me value even more her adaptability, understanding, and overall coolness during some of the situations and experiences we have as a “nomad” family...

We spend time in the house you see next, there Margreet (vib’s mum)(parents divorced a while ago) lives with Barthold (who owns the farm), they don’t farm it anymore as they took a government offer to keep most of the farm as an “scenic reserve”, meaning keeping it nice (and getting paid by the government to do it), while some other parts are leased to farmers and tree planting... the cows at the top are the front neighbours... the closest house is Barthold’s cousin (Gert) farm, at least 150 m away... and then nothing at less than 400mt... Barchem it self is not much... 1000 people? A pub café, the best bakery in the region, a mini supermarket and a farm shop... end of story

But then... they rent a shed to a local Bloke that makes didgeridoos! And winter-horns like a traditional old instrument from the region that looks and sound like a didgeridoo... reality is way more strange than fiction....

Vib’s dad (retired vet) lives a good 30 minutes away by car in the near of Winterswijk, but even in more remote location (and there is where Vib grow up).

Vib’s cousin Erik (34) is a full time farmer and has a relatively hi-tech milk farm of 60 hectares and over 200 cows... extremely intensive farming compared to the ones I see in the parts we hang out... I really like him... we always have good chats... he has good vision of the world... we like to spent time with him because he and his wife (Berendien) they are similar minded and aged and have 3 children... Felix just loves it there...
It could be a cliche for me to start criticising the subsidies and the environmental cost of intensive farming, but I realize that I would be missing the point... starting with the fact that his farm was just water 30 years ago (as big part of Holland)... If I could find a way to measure the effort that people put into farming vs. the rewards out of it, and scaled to the cost of living in that country... then I guess I could compare and if necessary draw an argument... but until then...

I just keep enjoying the Achterhoek...

Filipino postcards

Out of the Philippines... was good... I’m pleased of having been here... this job was different to all others; 2 months for a 5mb document...
it may help... the difference is that until now I used to do the jobs that others had proposed... now I’m writing things that somebody else would put in place...

Beyond the job... some images that would reside in my mind forever, are the other main outcome of this job. Just to name a few:

>the bizarre Chinese cemetery of Manila with hundreds of art-deco and traditional tombs some with aircon bars, that looks like a city with families actually living there (like the picture in the top) and more pictures here



>the 12 hr ferry ride from Coron to Manila in the cheapest class (deck) surrounded by literally thousand locals ranging from friendly to non-interested but never unfriendly...
>for first time in more than 25 years in boats been waken up by (various) rooster in the middle of the ocean (I mention cockfighting is BIG here)
>the hidden freshwater lake of Coron islands
>the saltwater hotpools in the mangroves of Sangat island
>the simplicity of life in the Batanes
>the Kazakhstan vs Filipinas basketball game! (globalization is here to stay)
>the good laughs with locals everywhere
>the coincidences
>the peoples names (Gaylord Recto, Rey Abuso, Victory Habito y Willy Enverga for example)
>eating Puto with sugar
>the music
>the crossroad banners celebrating the locals education achievements
>the complete acceptance that sexuality is your own business and is all good...
>the incredible flavour of the mangoes
>the jeepney’s art

but overall, my respect to the resilience and dignity of Pilipinos along history

Taxi, Fat Freddy's, Traffic and Globalization

Lunch time...

Mr Motoomul from from the Bureau of Product Standards of the Department of Trade and Industry called me... No other option than take a taxi to go and pick up a document.

Taxi diver asked me where are u from?

- I live in NZ, i say.

Ah NZ! i have a tape that a man gave me when i took him to the airport. Is nice! you wanna listen it?

- yes, sure...

Fat Freddy's Seconds started playing (you know ... a name that suits my personality...)

I got all dreamy and still overloaded by the globalization I’m part of...

traffic didn't matter much after that

Wick-end (wicked weekend)

Friday afternoon was already weird...

I have been spending 12 hrs day over my mac preparing a preliminary report that I kind of finished this afternoon...I had read somewhere that in the neighbourhood there was a massage “clinic” run by blind masseurs, so I decided to go and see them.

As I suspected it was in the complex of the Salesians in the Don Bosco school, while been “allergic” to dogmatic religions in general, I’m very conscious that in many countries education is key to opportunities, and if that education comes with an attached dogma... so be it... good on them.... you can quit the dogma part later on...

I can’t be partial... I did my primary education in backwaters of Argentina at a salesian school “Escuela San Rafael” in Curuzu Cuatia in the province of Corrientes

Anyway, there I went and after wandering around the school for a while I found the clinic, a small room with 3 blind masseurs at that time... I guess not many foreigners go there... so they were quite surprised, and they started asking me questions about where I come from and so on...

As I lie down on the stretcher I realise the bizarreness of the décor and colours combinations of the whole place... which kind of made sense based on the fact that they wouldn’t really know, and most sheets and curtains must have been given to them...

I was kind of carried away by my daydreaming about blind decorators, and the masseurs started his job... he started, i guess... checking my body out... and saying: Oh you very big person... and then I realize that there was no way that they could have known that I’m almost 2 m tall... he started having the giggles... and me too... he kept going down my legs and realize they were hanging out of the stretcher like by 40 cm... By then he was laughing full on... and obviously me too... then his colleagues must have asked him (in Tagalog) something like:
- hei broh what going on?

And the laughing dialogue must have gone on something like:
- I have a very long guy here, man this funny...
- Really?
- Yea man...
- Can we check it out?

And then the question (in English) came: Can my friends come and help me?

At that stage, all was very surreal, so I say: yeah sure... you can all come...

So they came, and it was one the most bizarre situations... I’m used to people “checking me out”, seeing me tall, and making comments about it.... but I never before I had people “touching me out”, feeling me tall, and cracking up laughing.... and in a room with the most bizarre colour combination in terms of sheet, different colour curtains, and so on... it was just... fantastic... again... these situations are my fuel and my drug...

So basically I had the 2 guys going over my whole body for 1 hour for the equivalent of 250 pesos (5USD)... It was very good by the way... (I left then 500 pesos)
So I come back home and the Team Leader of the mission, Alejandro de la Peña, a VERY nice and relaxed mexican guy (former Mexico’s ambassador to WTO), and his (as nice as him) Uruguayan wife Lujan, invited me to dinner in a very posh restaurant as he hosted the Mexican Ambassadress here in the Philippines, and some other Mexican diplomats here in the city...

So there is was surrounded by this very non stereotypical diplomats, drinking wine, eating gnocchi with the local band singing to us mariachi songs.... feeling overload by life and wondering how can I REALLY take my life seriously.... when Imelda Marcos... (the 3000 shoes woman, that in reality were only 1060) sited next to us!

I was like... no way... this is just like... tripping... Imelda is an icon... for most of the wrong reasons of course... but... you know... like in 1993 she was sentenced to 1,824 years imprisonment on charges of corruption... but then... like a present day Evita....

She has incredible pearls of wisdom, like:

“If you know how rich you are, you are not rich. But me, I am not aware of the extent of my wealth. That's how rich we are.”

"I was born ostentatious. They will list my name in the dictionary someday. They will use 'Imeldific' to mean ostentatious extravagance."

"It's the rich you can terrorize. The poor have nothing to lose."

"I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes, I had one thousand and sixty."

"It is terribly important to do certain things, such as wear overembroidered dresses. After all, the mass follows class. Class never follows mass."

And my favourite:
“When they see me holding fish, they can see that I am comfortable with kings as well as with paupers.”

Anyway... there she was... as we spoke Spanish, and we had ambassadors and so on... she sat with us... and talk, being very taken by us... while in our case we just like seen her like a cultural panache... and of course the compulsory picture...


Where I have the biggest, and at that stage of the day permanent grin in my face.

I guess having Vibeke next to me, and look each other with kid in a toy shop understanding we have, was the only thing I could have ask the make the day better

Anyway...that was enough for that for Friday... so Saturday I work on a proposal for a job in Vietnam (Hanoi) so be aware of next postings!

Then at night (after great tacos and quesadillas by Lujan)... I went into as place I wanted to check out for a while, and that I can only recommend, and it would be my favourite place in manila the SaGuijo Cafe. A very cool place, downstairs a grungy live band venue, café, bar and so on, and upstairs a very cool op shop and a gallery. It was packed, as I imagined because was a gig organised by ternorecordings the local label of the Radioactive Sago Project, Wajijuara, and the incredibly pumping Brownbeat, were funk meet Ska... it was fantastic night and again o had the great feeling of being the only obviously foreign guy in the whole place... this produced some conversations, which took to other conversations, and to know other people, and so on...

I’m looking forward to be a guest DJ at 88.3 JAM FM, and seeing the Milagros Dancehall sound system... that apparently are the bomb...

Saturday night in one of many Manilas... see it for your self:

Manila on my window

Has been a while... somehow I can’t write about NZ (even if for me, Auckland’s North Shore is as foreign as Mozambique or Armenia), but anyway… some e-mails asked for the travel log so here is back… (actually I don’t have copies of my old one, so I appreciate if somebody sent them back to me... One day all this would be history)

I guess all overseas development jobs are different, and that is what keeps drawing me back to it, particular after a quite pitiful attempt of having a “real” job in NZ, to which I fail miserably.

But this in Manila is more different than others… as I’m taking a step off fisheries (perhaps for 1st time in my working life!).

There are 2 main objectives to any fisheries activity, subsistence and trade (this in the broadest sense). Let leave subsistence aside this time... I always believed that if you are going to intervene on the fisheries resource under whatever management structure your country decided to use (and I’m not going to discuss the alternatives now), the outcome of that intervention has to maximize the potential benefit out of it. In other terms, if you are going to potentially f*#ck your resource, do it for the best outcome possible, if not there is a double waste.

There is where trade comes in... to trade fish internationally (where the big $ is) there are “rules” set by WTO, as many importing countries have Sanitary and Phytosanitary Standard (SPS) (mostly around food safety and biosecurity) to be oblige in order to accept those products. If you think that over 50% of the “development” world trade with the “developed” one is based on fish, fruit, meat, grains, nuts, and other low process food items, then any “failure” in achieving those SPS has massive consequences. Particularly, when there is the suspicion that those standards are used aTechnical Barriers to Trade (TBTs).

Good, where I’m trying to go, I have kind of specialized over the years on various aspects of fisheries, being the SPS related, one of my most common jobs… so in this occasion I was asked to be part of a team of 4 people that is assessing the needs at policy level, that the Philippines government and institutions have in order to maximise their potential for international trade under the WTO rules… in other words what they need to do in order to not get further screwed by opportunistic market forces at importing country level… my area is SPS in general (not only fish), and funnily do, I’m paid by the EU.

So I spent a lot of time in ministries, directorates, universities, factories, embassies, labs, and so on talking to people, and compiling the issues they have in order to rationalize the and suggest what type of assistance, would be needed to better address the problems… a long way from measuring fish, and training people in boats and factories…

Manila…. Over 10 million (10000000!) people in one big urban conglomerate. But I don’t think we can call it a city… is actually like 7 or 8 that re juggled into each other… what I see from my window in the 27th floor I could be in Hong Kong…



but then this is Makati, the business/embassy city… as soon as you leave things change big time. Is quite full on, (as most big Asian cities) but somehow has its enchantments mostly born out of it madness…

Snippets of it: barefoot basketball everywhere, children boxing in the streets off Malate, boxing is the 3rd most popular sport after basketball and Cockfights, going to the cockpit La Libertad… the massive amount and the painting on the jeepneys (like a bus made of extended Jeep) with winie the poo and Jesus painted together on the sides, or a girl with her mango (presumably the daughter of the driver) and the plane of top gun, Virgin Mary and Elvis on a hug…the “villages” low key compounds where the middle class live, in some sort of slow passed greenish oasis fenced out of the street madness… the openness of cross-dressing and prostitution everywhere, the toilet masseurs in “las reinas” a live band joint ( you go for pee and this blokes give you a neck massage while you go on with your business, just as part of the services of the place… you may leave some money on the way out), the helicopters cruising the sky in the morning and afternoon taking the very rich in and out of their office, the incredible amount of malls everywhere (megamall has 1 km long, 300 m wide and 4 floors!), the cheapness of the food (80 nz$ dinner for 3 with 2 bottles of wine in the poshest district of the country)… the night scene and the clubs going off at 3-4 am… and so on

people is cool… I find them holding a lot of dignity… they have the shitiest history of foreign domination … I guess 80% of their heroes were killed by some invader or another Spanish (for 333 years), Japanese, Americans) but they keep going on, and on… hard workers… no problems where, what and when… they just go and do it… honestly there are Filipino Overseas Workers (FOW) everywhere working their life to help the ones left here... actually there are over 8000 in Iraq (3rd biggest group of foreigners there?)

I find so moving the respect the have for education; you go to the smallest neighbourhood or villages in the other islands, and you see the banners across the road saying: “welcome xxxxx xxxxx graduate in “whatever” from such university or college or high school”, you make us proud… I think is so cool… particularly because I see how many people is see in the “development world“ take the right to education as a given and even waste it… while in countries like this one, is the difference in between a life with hope and one of just pure resilience.

I actually really like that I don’t have to repeat and spell my name all the time… Francisco is soo common… actually most names are Spanish… even if not many do speak Spanish at all… imagine you meet somebody named Jonathan Smith and he does not speaks English at all! Will not be a kind of funny situation?

Music is cool, I may not like a of the Pinoy (Filipino) Original Music and rock, but they cover all styles… I went to see some bands, and I have been really surprised by a free jazz kind of band theRadioactive Sago Project and a very cool dub combo by the name of Junior Kilat , worth to download some stuff from them.

Very much looking forward, to leave manila again… the weekend and the waves at Puraran where fantastic… even if I had the worst longboard ever… I’m keen to go for a dive… but then… I’m here working…

More to come

Wrapping up Armenia

Yes I still I Armenia… but wrapping up.

Yerevan is another city in the spring summer… life just warms up and all becomes lushly green, all squares get covered with cafes and a good number of the immense amount of fountains (1300 at the peak of soviet times) that you see al around the place starts sheltering the heat.

The summer has also brought a lot of colour… and in more than one sense… starting with the outfits of the woman… guau… I guess there is no comparison to the NZ scene… o perhaps the type of clothing and flesh exposure you may see on Saturday night clubbing or pop fashion party with top 40 music from the acid house scene…. But you would not see those girls wearing that on a Tuesday 11 am while waiting the bus… Absolutely incredible…I wish I was brave enough to approach them with a camera and say… please… the world need to know about you girls…

Matching pinks on the VERY tight top, trousers, stilettos (of course!) and handbag… and in harmony with the other friends you go cruising about… Immaculate white trousers that would not be white not even 5 seconds if anyone I know uses them… Green and red flower stamped tight trousers with more flowered tops… complete yellow outfit only interrupted by a brown “schall” on her shoulders…. And is visually obviously g-strings are the most common type of undies…

Of course, men still use black stripy trousers and black satin shirts with incredibly long pointy shoes…. Refreshing exemptions are some trendy Iranians or Lebanese to whom linen and light cloth shirts are a classic… as long they are beige or pastel…

Obviously I’m by far the worst dressed person around… with my pseudo mature surfer look…

It never ceases to overwhelm me how different perceptions over the same thing are… for me, even if visually wonderful… I found it vulgar… and they fund me vulgar… how somebody with more money than them (as all foreigners are rich) pays so little attention to his appearance…

I guess that would be my more lasting memory from that place, the incredible mixture of mysticism, culture and vulgarity I’m surrounded…

Everything is very ancient and the roots of Armenian culture are as old as civilization, the earliest books, religious and scientific analysis comes from around here…so the earliest references to wine, beer, and pot (there is a city named Ganja!) are hosted in manuscripts held in Armenia…

The history of a people without place or own government for centuries made each Armenian his own king and the holder of his peoples history… there are an immense amount of old books (10th to 14th century) that made it till today, because it was the only thing that people would take with them when the decapitating hordes arrived, when they had to go away because they were in the middle of the old world, Ottomans, Persians, Huns, Crusaders, Bolsheviks… named… all been here…

The identity is the only thing they kept… I have seen people cry of emotion when Niri the Japanese girlfriend of my friend Carlos would talk to them in fluent Armenian… they would hold her hand and in tears say: thank you so much! … Strong stuff mate…

The sense of martyrdom is essential to their psyche… so much that Martiros and Martirosyan, are very common names and surnames respectively…

And even today the centre of they geographical identity, the sole symbol of they culture that stand over everything else and that you can see from everywhere is Mt Ararat… a very impressive sight that goes well over 5000 m right from Yerevan’s valley… is in Turkey… after their annexation of Anatolia…

Is very disturbing, even for me, to have a whole section of a country constructed to look towards this most beautiful mountain that is part of your identity since Noah’s ark… and to know that is in the hand of your enemies…

They got they land and opportunity to foster they culture with some pseudo leverage as being the most culturally prominent republic of the old Soviet Union… but then it collapsed and old unpaid bills came back… you know… war with Azerbaijan and so on…

In general terms in “our” part of the world we see what is call development advances move forwards… you know you get better services and infrastructure as time pass by and today you have more than 10 years ago…

This job get to show you the opposite … not often you get confronted with the decadence of “civilization”… was quite bizarre already in Mozambique when you wander around places that 100 years ago had double sided avenues and palaces and today is very hard to get there in 4wds… here the past is very close… so the abandonment feeling is almost post apocalyptic… you go trough whole industrial areas that are completely empty, buildings and machinery sitting there, hectares of glass houses decaying with no better use than an aim of the local children stones….

Personally and as former amateur sports person from Argentina that always struggle to get support and good training facilities the most anguished place was to visit the abandoned high performance competition centre that the Soviet Union had in the mountains nearby for it elite athletes, in order to train them for Olympics and competitions in high places (is at 2500 mts).

It is a huge complex… it must have been sooo fantastic… and after 10 years of complete neglect it just felt so disturbing… massive Olympic size pool with plants growing from the cracked bottom… huge boilers for the water heating cannibalized for parts laying around… a covered 200 m ling pavilion with a tartan athletics track inside rotten away with the hurdles still laying around… the outside track with 2 adjacent areas for training blackened by the neglect… huge gymnastics halls being used by the local fauna…. and nobody around….

Except in the massive eating and living areas for athletes used by internal refuges of the Nagorno Karabagh war… It just felt what I guess would be the world 10 years after most people died by some apocalyptic reason…

But… then you come to Yerevan, and it is a different world… It must be the most musical city in the world…

Besides having concerts all the time… the quality of the musicians is just incredible… the local conservatory is constantly booming in people… Armenia is the only country in the world who’s number of music students is growing as per % of total population… In the square across the road was the National Armenian Jazz Band… at the style of the big jazz band of the 50’s… not my favourites… but man… those guys were the bomb… they play for 2.5 hrs non stop I was completely into it particularly when they starting playing local jazz that mixes traditional rhythms and instruments with the traditional big band stuff (and I mean big over 20 musicians on stage!)

2 days later similar venue but classical… again mind-blowing… It was Russia day… so big Russian concert with those jumping dancers and all… next day tribute to Piazolla (Argentina’s greatest contemporary classic and tango composer)… and so on… and then incredible international visits… like next week the Kronos Quartet… the most innovative and avant gard contemporary classic quartet in the world … they come here to perform Armenian contemporary composers… and we talking a city with less than a millon people...

It is incredible… you have at least 1-2 different concerts every night and up to four on weekends… plus 2-3 theatre plays… plus marionette and puppets exclusively dedicated theatres with 2 different functions… on children’s plays by Pushkin, Andersen and other classic authors…

I guess that would be one of the issues I will miss the most… and what challenge me the most of this place…. Knowing that the idiot that almost run you over while crossing the streets, stands around eating seeds, let his phone on and starts talking while in training seminar… plays the violin or the cello at a level that most of us would never achieve…

I guess that is the mystic and vulgar dichotomy of the Caucasus…

Mad caucasus and my lucky spring

Thanks again for all the good messages about my dispatches from here… and to those that insist that I should put them in a book… well whose going to buy it… you all have them for the last years already!

Anyway... spring is exploding in Armenia... is quite extreme how a week of warmer weather makes the grass break the dull grey of the earth, and how all the apricots trees (plenty of them in the city) get covered in white flowers... the city feels happier... even if the political situation get problematic…as apparently there is massive protest taking the streets next week (I’ll be in Holland) as the support for the present War President that has forgot the economy if becoming thin (isn’t that happening somewhere else?)

The Southern Caucasus is just a mad place... Georgia has 3 breakaway provinces that do not have any links with the central government and are virtually autonomous region/countries in pseudo state of war with the central government in Tbilisi, and its relations with Armenian are bitter sweet at the moment, as one of the breakaway governors is Armenian in origin.

Armenia has been blockaded since the 90's by Turkey in the west, meaning that border is closed and there is no relationship of any form, the reason for this go back to the Armenian genocide by the Ottoman Turks in 1915, and the support of the Turks to the Azerbaijanis in regards the land disputes with Armenia.

In particular in regards the “Mountainous Republic of Nagorno Karabakh” (Ja! Get that for a stamp in your passport) which is a ethnic Armenian enclave in Azerbaijan that gain independence supported by Armenia and is a country only recognised by Armenia, the actual Armenian president (Kocharian) was indeed the former president of Nagorno Karabakh... so it is all very messy… The Turks do complain loudly about i... but they are in the same situation with Cyprus!

As well there is the Azerbaijani province of Naxiban that is totally isolated form the rest of the country and sandwiched in between Turkey on the west, Armenia on the north and east and Iran on the South... Armenia is a frozen war state with Azerbaijan for the last 10 years, with sporadic skirmishes that leave dead soldiers on both sides... they are supporting/occupying Nagorno-Karabash... And all this mess in the name of what supposedly make us better people... Religion... so this are reason why the Turks still have a long road the be part of the EU...

The real reason why this entire place is not in complete war is the profound and unnoticed influence of the areas more stable country... Iran… Armenia’s best friend and lifeline... but... hey are they not extreme Muslims part of the axis of evil? Well really not...
I remember during 2000 hanging out for coffee in the Armenian quarter in Isfaham where the Armenian churches are 400 mts away for one of Iran biggest Mosques and there are no problems... Iranian took massive amount of refugees at the genocide time...

Iran diplomacy is what keeps this region stable even more perhaps than the money, which millions of overseas Armenians send back here…
This last week (my last one here I’m off to Holland until the 10 of May), has been quite eventful...

I have been working with the Cray fisherman of Lake Sevan... it never stop fascinates me how fisherman are a unique breed with common characteristics beyond countries and at the same some unique particulars that are so specific to where come from... and Cray fisherman are like a sub unit of that mad tribe of people worldwide...

Lake Sevan is quite high so you still have snow storms up there, and being in 6-7 mts boat/barge that incredibly still floats, lifting craypots under a blizzard surrounded by 3 cigarette-to-face welded fisherman talking about how we do it in NZ, and what is the best bait, and why it should have a escape hole for juveniles, and how big they were and the fuc. government, and the price squeeze of the companies... and so... in a mixture of armenian-russian-german language melange, under the constant warming of various bottles of vodka, was at the same time bizarre and way to familiar...

Coming back and loading all in a truck and drive back to the factory singing at loud heavily accented voice “Hotel California” (that by some reason is the only song in English that EVERY one knows and sings VERY loud) out of the a destroyed tape recorder, while the snow piles up on the lake border road driven by mad Lada racers... and stopping at a shed that only sells cigarettes and vodka for my to replenish their stock... to keep driving and stopped by corrupt policeman looking for nice Cray dinner for the night, and as get as well a Vodka zip, while we all sing for 3rd time in an hour “Hotel California” and the policeman tap my head saying something like “he looks alright for a foreign wanker”, as I’m really drunk and cant stop laughing form the bizarreness of the situation and the fear that all can go wrong at any moment... and that fragility and extreme of life is a bit addictive, but at the same time tiresome.

A big headache later I come back to home in Yerevan in the pretentious comfort of the EU Range rover as on Fridays I have been running a series of 10 seminars for the ministry inspectors.

So I go and did my usual gondola trip up and down the hill and read below what happened in the immediate trip, after the one I took...
I still a bit freaked out... and very much looking forward to see my family next week.

I know I’m a very lucky person... but yesterday was my lucky day...

THREE DIE, SIX OTHERS GET INJURIES IN FUNICULAR ACCIDENT
YEREVAN, APRIL 2: Three people were killed and six others received heavy injuries when a funicular railway car fell on the ground today. The accident occurred at 2 pm when the car was taking passengers to Nor Nork borough from downtown Yerevan. Another car that was sliding towards the center did not fall down due to braking system. The injured were rushed to hospital. An official of the emergencies department said the accident may have been caused by the obsolete machinery.

East meet Europe

I just have been watching “The Music Room” a program on CNN trying to be cool (it doesn’t work), but was about "Music in NZ" ... I have seen in succession King Capisi, One tree hill, Salmonella dub, P money, and so on... the presenter was being filmed at the entrance of Simunovich Fisheries, a door I crossed 1000 times... It was all so familiar but weird... from here… cold Yerevan…

Where funnily enough I’m not very used to not to be seen as a foreigner… everyone come and talks to me in Armenian, and kind of get offended when they realize that I have no idea of what they going on about… is very weird… in most other jobs.. tends to be very obvious my foreignness… but not here… at least not to them…. Not one person comes and offered me a menu in English… all Armenians I meet, later on come and tell me you look so Armenian… you look like my cousin Sevan… and so on I'm kind got use to it...

But.. I'm not getting use to the cold… geez... 1 degree C at lunch time… there is no need for that … however I'm kind of understanding the little things associated to it… like why most cars have all this cats footprints on the bonnet… because is warm there! As soon as a car parks… al cats from around come an lie there… is very funny for me!

It has only been one day since I'm here that I was able to walk the streets without my fleece jacket!...

Went to the Armenian equivalent of the Vatican... Which was cool... but quite “sanitized”.... very interesting painting, carvings and illustrated bibles…but it is funny, because on one side they have the spear that went on the side and “killed” Jesus (yeah man!!!) is not in display but is Armenia’s most treasured possession… and then all “priests” have a very Muslim looking beard and hat… on top of that one of the various religious icons they use is like a fake hand (like a prosthesis) in which the thumb and the “ring finger” are touching each other, meaning of circle of life that you see in the meditating Buddha statues in Sri Lanka…. Very weird…

Even if Christians I find my self more convinced that this is much more the middle east than Europe, even if local would get mad if the hear me… I don't know I just get to see it in the obvious issues, but as well in details… that perhaps only make sense to me, the combination of the fringe and the colour of the dresses of the waitresses in a restaurant… Their ideas on what we like… The plates of carefully sliced fruits… That all waiters/waitresses have an ID with their photos… That tea is called chai… that not one would ever dare to bring milk with the tea… and of course a slice of lemon...

Socially I got into some circles and I found my self "busy" during evenings... I went for an "audition" at the Buddha Lounge Bar a nice bar/club/restaurant copied to one in Paris where the "pseudo-alternative" crowd hangs out... and the guys was so keen that asked me to keep playing so I did a 2 hr set and I can go and play anytime I want they said, so I chose to be the resident DJ on Fridays... So I have the weekends free…

I normally eat at an Iranian Restaurant around my corner that cater students (many here), and it is a happy place with people talking to you and being friendly, besides cheap... so last week went there, and at the moment I'm getting is another 2 people comes in... and they are speaking Spanish... an Argentinean-Armenian composer (whom I knew about) and a Mexican anthropologist .... so they invite for dinner as it was the Mexican guy b'day... so other people started coming... 2 airport Argentineans (an Argentinean Armenian owns the airport!), Ecuadorian political scientist with NewYorican water economist wife..., various half Armenians from different parts, a Bask accountant-diver (?), a Norwegian social psychologist and her Norwegian political scientist flatmate, the German and French embassy officers, a Swiss-Italian development officer, the Canadian French microbiologist-filmmaker, and so on... so I was in my sauce... after they finish we went to the Mexican flat and had a pipe... and so on... So this crew kind of adopted me, so I got invited to quite a few parties and dinners lately and now besides having the Buddha gig... I’m now the DJ in the “Spanish Society” radio program at a local FM... bizarre....

I hate my job some days... I hate not being with my family... But destiny tends to pull some tricks on me of take me into strange situations... If I was Muslim and taught that my destiny and life book ahs been already written by Allah...

Well… I would strongly suspect that Allah does drugs...

Yerevan

Armenia in my mind was like the Atlantis.... Kind of place that we all heard off... But nobody really knows if it still exist or where it is supposed to be... This is the Caucasus from where the word Caucasia come from...I have been described like that... but I don't know why... in any case this was the backwaters of the Soviet Union... land of the lawless... as soon as the CCCP went down this guys got independence and went to war wit the neighbors for chunks of Christian land in Muslims countries... in theory Armenia and Azerbaijan still at war..

By day downtown Yerevan seems very Russian with non Russian looking people... (I have not been to Russia, do) ...men in cheap leather jackets and pointy mocasinos... pelt hats... many in fake adidas anoraks looking like iranians/turks ... but Christianity seems to make them look a bit different... women are into very tight clothes under colour leather jackets that come down to their knees, a lot of light blue make up around the eyes and the concept of hair coloring has some how new meaning for me.... There is a bit to much yellow and contrast with the very dark black from the eye brows( and the very white skin)... and by no doubt masters of equilibrium and frostbite control as per the very tight and pointy stiletto kind of boots they use to wander trough the snow

all sort of soviet cars of which ones i only recognize the nivas and a few others, and of course as it is a free country... BMW and Mercedes... meaning that you have either $ or are in politics (normally related)... and is very important for you to show off...

Again I'm a giant walking the streets in disbelieve of the anarchy of traffic.... the old part of the city seems to have been very posh at some stage... the Architecture is monumental... still much more to see... young (teenage) soldiers playing in the snow with uniforms that make them even younger... kebab houses shining... the poster of lord of the rings in Russian and Armenian... (Pity I did not had a digicam)... cheap latino music in Spanish pouring from underground clubs...

on the other side... on a Wednesday night I could go to a opera, a chamber music concert or the visiting Iranian Philharmonic playing with the local one (over 400 musicians on stage)... Pretty much every night is something and we talking a city of Auckland population

Is quite tripy to go on a Volga car (big) trough the hills from outer Yerevan... trough industrial areas with melting snow, down driveways into government buildings looking empty.... The ministries are incredible... Ruskis master the art of institutional architecture....

The office I' be working is a bit out of town, but I can take either a buss or a gondola (sic) to get there... yes the gondola is again very Russian in design...ugly but able to still work after 20 years of minimal maintenance ...

Yerevan is the lowest part of the country, (1000mts) and is surrounded by hills...there is as well a underground metro... so the stations that are under some of the hills have the longest mechanical stairs I have ever seen... one of them must be 250 mts at least... is hard to see the top when you get on it...

Food is varied and meaty.... I went to a place last night aptly named Caucasus Tavern which by some reason was full of Armenian army soldiers... they bring you a small glass of vodka, you pour a bit on your hands to wash then and disinfect... then u dry them and drink the rest.

Then some short dark dressed girls with the faced of experience pass and leaves you with a plate of different types of salad leafs, mushrooms, capsicums and flat bread...
so u get the leaves an much it cow stile.... And make some rolls with the bread ands the rest, and the chunks of bbq meat come and you keep making rolls, and wash down the whole thing with red wine...

By the way, I got the flat, move in on Tuesday, is on the 7 floor, nothing flash, kind of big, close to a park, the bazaar, republic square, etc

Saturday morning... watching muz.ru tv... sort of Russian own mtv... but very cheesy.... Glitters and tits seems to be big in Russian tv...

and all under 30 cm of snow.... but that does not seem to bother the mocasino man and the stiletto woman

Maputo is good for you

Maputo is going to be good for me... so to really valorize how much we do really have...



Is very hard to maintain the optimism i normally have in any of the Pacific island or in Sri Lanka... there is perhaps a better life for Africa... but they know that is way far in the future... hey are at the bottom of a rubbish bin... covered by bad shit like AIDS, misery, corruption, no education... and still be badly fucked by the Americans...read about the "free trade" agreements rounds in Mauritius... based solely on Oil...

our own EU!!... i saw a copy of the Fisheries Agreement... Spain, Portugal, France, Greece... 4.9 million Euro per year for unrestricted access to the grounds for 50 boats (all over 50 mts)...pathetic

and i supposed to work on fiscalization aim to "sustainable fishing"... very disappointed...

last Monday went to nice place named cerveceria Miramar.... when i came out... this 3 young prostitutes come to me aged 15 to 17 perhaps... so i got instead the car and lock the doors as they arrived... and they were offering themselves to me... pointing at my penis and opening the months... then pulling their t-shirts up and rubbing their tits against the car windows... while i was trying to get the antitheft block out of the wheel... and saying 'quince dollar'... quince dollar... 15USD... i finally started the car and star moving so they left... i was overwhelm... and fucked up... because i realize I’m the target market... alone... middle aged.. white guy in a big car... my types fuel that sad life... i was just out of my self...

there are good things... like the music... the caffes.... beautiful scenery... but overall happiness (which seems to be the fuel that maintains the place going) ... and incredibly a very laid back attitude to life...

i'm positive about being here... but i'm very pessimistic about the future of this (now my) people...

Peace and pot in Sri Lanka

Greetings from a peaceful Sri Lanka… after 19 years of hardcore battle there is finally peace… mi 2nd day here after a 3 month stint back home, was in middle of the Peace rally… which as most things in this country was quite full on… over 300000 people marching, chanting, dancing, getting completely piss and stoned under a torrid sun (in Colombo is always 31° C!).

It was a nice feeling when you are the only white face in a huge crowd and you get the best dialogs…

- where you from sir?
- Argentina… but I live in New Zealand
- Ah… Maradona and Chris Cairns…. Very good combination sir!!! same hair style!!

You feel the difference that peace is making… no more roadblocks… free travelling… very cool atmosphere… the final peace process still has a way to go, and a lot of negotiation to be done… as the prime minister is driving the peace process, but the president is opposed to it… (welcome to Politics!)



But is very good for the north east (Tamil land) which has been neglected for ages… and there is were I’m going for the next 2 weeks...