Day 9 Diary from John Tocci

Well, all things must end. We set out on our return to the land of the brave and the home of the free. No slight intended, believe me. If you find anyone who doesn’t come away, after visiting Georgia and Armenia, with a profound sense of gratitude, check their pulse. If I was asked for an immediate impression of the places we visited, I’d sum it up in one word, “cold”. It was cold on the streets, in the alleys, in the schools, in the blown out high rise apartments, and even in the Yerevan airport. The cost of fuel was a huge problem even before the two fold cost increase in oil over the past year. These countries are certainly close to, if not in, a heating crisis.

Visitors to Armenia must pay to leave. Yup, you heard me right; pay to leave, 10,000 Drams ($28 US) each. After paying for the three of us and receiving multicolored stamped and official looking certificates we could check in. I suspect the stamps and things are a hold over from Soviet times. We’ve heard, from friends living in other former Soviet countries, about the multitudinous manifestations of certifications, approval documents, affidavits, and permits, all requiring lengthy stays in lines presided over by official governmental obstructers. Certainly not like that here though where they take money efficiently (grin).

Exit duty certificate

Again, as in the flight into Tbilisi, our 6 am flight was the only departure scheduled out this morning. One other (aging) plane sat on the tarmac. It was from Russia, Krasnodar Air. This reminded me of a Wall Street Journal article published last week that chronicled recent air disasters, discussing problems with developing countries, use of sketchy aircraft, airframes with multiple past lives and undocumented repair and maintenance histories. Hmmm. Our flight turned out to be fragrant but uneventful. Other folks are not as concerned with body aroma as Americans. That scent combined with the nice smell of full dinners of Armenian food warming in the galley and well worn seat fabrics which had absorbed all these airs for several years, remembering them all well. But the plane is warm and so are the people. We settled in for the flight to Amsterdam.

Most of us dozed off or stretched out. Seat assignments, like roadway lane dividers, are suggestive rather than rigid. Lila and I sat in a more capacious exit row. We don’t speak a word of Armenian (except “very thanks to you”) but no one asked about our ability to handle evacuations in the event of an emergency. Five hours later we landed about twice as fast as we should amidst spontaneous applause from the passengers. This time I joined the crowd. We were happy to be on the terra firma.

I am going to close this journal with a final story. We had a two and one half hour layover in Amsterdam before catching our flight to Boston. I love to observe design, branding, imagery and furnishings in nicely designed airports. Amsterdam is one of the best (IMHO) in the world. By this time my family and friends had grown weary of my picture snapping at meaningless (to them) retail buildings, logos, chairs, lounges, light fixtures, bathrooms, interior plantings, banners, and on and on. Oh well. Someday I’ll just fly alone from one-well-designed airport to another well-designed airport again and again circling the world. I’ll schedule four hour layovers to photograph everything even though some people get pretty squirrelly about a guy in black taking photos of them and their stores. Some have even to chased me. Really! I put the camera away for awhile.

While we were in Armenia Yeva planned a visit to the Ararat Cognac factory in Yerevan for us. She arranged for them to keep the whole factory open past hours and we were the only ones touring when we did. Ararat is world renown and this cognac (“brandy” to you in the EU) has won dozens of medals and prizes over the past couple hundred years. At the end of the tour and tasting we bought a bottle of 20 year old Cognac for dear friends. This stuff is like buttah (butter). Like silk. It has the aromatic power of gladiolas from three Italian funerals combined. Airline security in the Caucasus’s (Armenia, Georgia, Azerbaijan etc.) is quite relaxed so we packed our bottle of Armenian nectar in our carry-on. We forgot that flights to the US are a different matter all together. Security in Amsterdam would not let us take our bottle on board our Boston-bound flight. Even the sight of men crying couldn’t persuade them. They told us it would have to be thrown out. Couldn’t do it. It would be a sin (venial) to throw it out.

We tried to swap it at a nearby Duty-Free shop because liquors purchased at the airport are exempt. Nope. I went to a bar and lounge next to the gate and offered it to the bartenders free of charge. They knew the situation well. They were very nice but were prevented from accepting it. We told them to take it home. “€œCan’t, we’ll lose our jobs”. But, the lady bartender offered us brandy glasses to drink it there. Eureka! I said,”Really?” She said, “Surely”. I said, “We’ll invite fifty of our closest friends” and turned to the crowd seated opposite the bar. “Who wants to join us in glass of fabulous 20 year old Cognac?” Their eyes and faces said “Who is this weird guy?” I announced our predicament in a loud voice, to them all again. No takers. Lila is to be commended for not walking away from me at this point. But after 32 years she’s developed the gift. I opened the bottle and the aroma filled the whole area. Two incredulous guys, in line at the bar, joined us, one then the other. Both of them were Americans. Naturally. One was an Iranian born software consultant from Southern California flying to Teheran. We shared our story and it turns out he was a sponsor of World Vision children in Africa for more than 5 years and loved doing it. His kids grew up and out of the program and he didn’t follow up with others. After hearing our stories he will again.

Another American joined us. He was in his late twenties, tall, good looking and highly educated. Lila and I both immediately thought he looked like a future World Vision staffer. As we filled his glass he told us he’s a software company business development professional trying to get back to the U.S. Most flights were cancelled the prior day due the blizzards on the east coast. He continued, before hearing our story, to tell us that he was thinking about going into international relief or development. Bingo! We shared our story. He hadn’t heard of World Vision. The guy headed to Teheran took over from us with his personal testimony about World Vision. We expect the young man’s resume to be received in Washington any day now.

After about 15 minutes, and another glass, we heard the last call for boarding our plane. We left them with a little more than half the bottle remaining. I commissioned them with the ministry and mission of finding others to share the balance of the flask and spread the good news about World Vision’s work. They accepted the charge and I anointed them both with the solemn commission.

We felt warm.

Thanks to everyone at Tocci Building Companies who do their jobs well every day. You made this trip possible. Thanks to the people here who care, who perform, who earn and who give back. Thanks, most of all, to the people of World Vision who do it in the most unselfish and effective ways we’ve ever seen. Yes, you do have the best job in the world. Keep fighting the good fight. Good night.

Day 8 Diary from John Tocci

Well today is going to be an “easy” day. The staff is having mercy on us. No visits to people living in unheated bomb shelters with blown out windows. No storage container families. No children being pushed out onto the dirty streets to kneel in mock prayer begging for money. No children sniffing glue to get away. No watching beautiful kids live all day long in winter clothes inside and out . No people paving their apartment floors in layers of old newspapers, wrappings and trash for insulation . No groups of women stitching furiously to earn a few “dram” to feed their kids. Yes, an easy day.

Microfinance For Small Enterprises
We are picked up at our hotel at the very civilized hour of 9 am by our big, friendly Armenian driver in the World Vision mini bus. He smiled readily and winked at me. I’ve assumed the shot gun seat for most of the past four days and have grown to appreciate his offensive and defensive driving skills. He knows that I know how good he is because he doesn’t speak any English and all I know of Armenian is “shot merci”, literally meaning “very thanks”, and “shot love” meaning very good.

Our Armenian driver

We are joined by the World Vision Armenian National Director, Mark Kelly. We get on our way. Our destination is the Office of SEF International, an independent microfinance institution set up by World Vision. The trip is, thankfully, a very short jaunt.

At SEF we are shown a great power point presentation by its Director, Dr. Vadim Usvitsky. Vadim is Russian and a highly educated economics and finance expert. I’ve been using the term “highly educated” a lot but its true of the World Vision people we have met. I have never encountered so many intelligent, trained and motivated people in a single organization.

SEF director, Dr. Vadim Usvitskyl (left), with Mark Kelly (right) World Vision Armenia National Director.

We learn about the difficulties of navigating the bureaucracy of Armenia’s government and central bank which governs the activities of lenders, no matter how small. SEF makes loans as small as $100.00 and as large as $5,000.00 to individuals and small enterprises trying to break the cycle of poverty and build a “prosperous” life. Since these folks usually have no collateral or business experience they are un-bankable by other sources. World Vision loans are based on character rather than collateral. Nonetheless, the loan process is extremely professional. Their record exceeds a 90% full repayment rate. All loan payments are made in cash by the borrowers. Most walk or drive, on a monthly basis, to the Yerevan or a regional office to drop off their small payments.

We leave SEF headquarters to visit a marketplace where several vendors are recipients of SEF loans. It is Saturday and the squares of Yerevan are swarming with vendors, booths, and people of all shapes. We pass under a plaza via a short tunnel lined on both sides with food purveyors who have set up full delicatessens offering freshly grilled meats and all sorts of unusual looking fare. A couple make shift massage parlors are interspersed.

Yerevan marketplace

The centerpiece to the market area is a large cast-in-place concrete building repurposed from a former Soviet movie theater. The floor area is approximately 75,000 sf. The cantilevered roof soars out about 80 feet beyond its support. What a massive piece of reinforced concrete and Soviet engineering!

Former Soviet movie theater, now marketplace

We meet with two women at their booths. The first vendor was operating from a 6 foot by 12 foot outdoor station crammed full of running shoes and women’s boots and dress shoes. She pays 150.00/month, $25.00/sf, for an unheated flea market-like space, what a great deal for the landlord! But, people pay a lot of attention to their shoes and clothes here. Previously I had been looking at the shoppers and vendors. Men were mostly dressed in tough guy black with three-quarter length leather coats being the “macho” uniform. The young women (young is being re-defined by the author each year, for now that means under 40, haha) are often dressed in spike heeled boots, tight jeans and short, stylish jackets. Our feet look raggy in comparison. Anyway, I ask a dozen questions to get at the business facts. “What is your operating margin?” resulting in a “huh?” OK then. I try “How much do you buy for? Sell for? What is your best moving line of shoes? Do styles change quickly here? How do you control your inventory?” She smiles as I ask my questions. She is quite patient with this American gringo. We begin attracting quite a crowd of onlookers, mostly other shop owners. Suddenly, we are joined by two, thick necked, leather jacket guys who follow us for the balance of our market visit. We do learn that all transactions are cash. Naturally. We are told that that the landlord pays the taxes. Sure. We find out that credit cards are not in their foreseeable future. Reasons are obvious.

Shoe Vendor

The SEF business representative allows us to question openly. He explains to us how he works with the small business people to help them understand their own business. Cool. They are, however, prevented by government regulation from conducting formal business training. This is too bad.

We move on to our second vendor who is a larger borrower. She runs a booth selling leather goods, jackets, vests, coats, and pants. She does her own direct buying from Turkish manufacturers. She travels back and forth. I unleash another round of gringo questions (haha). Her margins are better. She’s very street schmart. She keeps records unlike the previous woman. She freely shows me her journals that record daily sales of between $500.00 and $3000.00 US. She pays $500/ month for her 10 foot by 16 foot space or $ 37.50/sf. Her merchandize area is inside the building though offering some protection from the elements but not all. The building is not heated. Stalls are divided by conduit frames with tarps. The front doors are tarps. Security, apparently, is provided by others.

Leather vendor

Each business woman is effusive about World Vision’s help in making their business start and growth possible. More than 40% of SEF’s loans are made directly to women. The percentage of women operating businesses is actually far higher though. Men sign the loan papers, as sign of their manliness, but it’s clear that the real brains of these small enterprises are, in many cases, women. This is cool too. They make money, learn about good capitalism, feed their families and provide a needed product. Go team go.

We leave the marketplace and head for lunch at Mr. Toastee, an Armenian sub shop. Lila is sick today and trying to recover back at the hotel. It takes a lot for this lady to be put down for the day. I’m not feeling too good myself so I skip Mr. Toastee, sad but true.

The Partnership Between Eastern Europe’s Churches and World Vision
After lunch we enjoyed a fantastic visit to Etchmiadzin Cathedral, the Headquarters of the Armenian Apostolic Church and heart of a religious compound known as the Holy See of Cilicia. This Holy See is one of two in Eurasia/Middle East that act as headquarters to this Christian denomination. We are joined by Karine Harutyunyan who is World Vision Armenia’s Christian Commitments Manager. She is in charge of relations with the Armenian Apostolic Church which plays a huge part in the lives of people here. At the end of the Soviet era there were only ten priests left in the entire country, but today hundreds are studying here at the Holy See which includes a monastery, seminary, residence of the Holy Catholicos (the Apostolic equivalent of the Catholic Pope), cathedral, church offices and a museum.

The Holy See

Katarina, World Vision Director of Christian Life

Karine is administering World Vision’s bible study curriculum. This curriculum is being used in collaboration with the major churches throughout six Eastern European countries including Armenia and Georgia. It involves church history and basic bible teaching with moral/ethics training. It is often the most fun for kids. We met the personal secretary to the Catholicos, a young priest who is World Vision’s direct liaison for this program. He is totally enthusiastic about the training and teamwork with World Vision. Impressive.

Later we were guided on a private tour of the Holy See’s museum. We viewed several sacred relics as well as paintings, embroidery, tapestries and ancient vestments.

What Has This Week Meant?
Faith is the foundation to humanitarian efforts and social justice. St. James (Jas 2:26) said, “faith without works is dead” The whole chapter, actually, is worth reading. The countries of Eastern Europe’s history are deeply rooted in their Christian heritage. As a result, the church occupies a unique role in the life of the people and is, quite possibly, the best avenue for the moral re-education and restoration of normal interpersonal relationships in this post soviet era. The reason why we at Tocci support World Vision is their organizational excellence and heartfelt commitment to meeting the urgent needs of the whole person in the countries they serve, spirit, soul and body, while respecting the diverse cultures and faiths of these people. The noun, “these people” seems so clinical. These people are our brothers and sisters. When we see them “naked and destitute of daily food, if one of you (us) says to him, ‘Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?” What good is it indeed?

This week has been all about faith. Faith in action. Faith to restore hope for a better, warmer, and well fed future. We will now carefully consider how Tocci can team with World Vision in select programs to make a measurable difference. Thanks for following along with our journey. If you want to continue and join with us to multiply our efforts together, we welcome the company! Feel free to contact me or Lila directly.

Armenian Apostolic Cross; the budding at the ends symbolize a living (eternal) cross, the two spheres at the base represent the local church and diaspora (Armenian faithful who are dispersed around the world).

Check out more photos of Day 8

Day 7 Diary from John & Lila Tocci
A Trip to Gyumri, Armenia
John Tocci

OK, it’s Friday. I’m writing as we bounce our way back from Gyumri to Yerevan, the capitol of Armenia. It is a two hour ride, everything seems to be about a 2 hour ride from where we are in Yerevan. Gyumri was the site of a massive earthquake in 1988. Today much of it remains un-repaired and in ruins. The ride takes us along twisting roads which, I suppose, were in reasonable condition back in 1988, prior to the earthquake and the break up of the CCCP (USSR). It’s quite challenging to traverse now, despite work done by present government. It has begun snowing heavily so visibility is low and traction lower. There have been three snow plows for the entire “highway”, all parked. Since the road winds through the mountains, heavy drifting makes the trip even more exciting with drivers also drifting from one side of the road to the other at will.

Driving conditions on the way to Gyumri

We were joined on our trip by Mark Kelly, the World Vision Armenia National Director, and Kristina Mikhailidi, the former Child Protection program manager, currently managing sectoral work in World Vision Armenia. It’s fabulous to have such knowledgeable people as our guides to the culture and problems of this area. Mark is from Australia. He’s here with his wife and two young children. Passion for this work is a prerequisite, especially when it involves sacrifice from your young wife and 3 and 5 year old children. It’s one thing to beat yourself up, depriving yourself of the hundreds of creature comforts we take totally for granted. It’s quite another to be a young dad and bring your family along on this journey.

Mark Kelly, the World Vision Armenia National Director

We have passed miles of sparsely populated land with abandoned cars, collapsed stone housing, and stacks of reclaimed precast plank hoping for a use again someday. Occasionally we pass a towering Soviet statue or propaganda piece intended to inspire worker solidarity and productivity, of which there was, and is, very little. I’m just beginning to understand the root problem in this part of the world, a total gutting of the value of personal initiative and entrepreneurship coupled with a near-total dependence on the mother-state decision making authority. This took 70 years to inculcate with intense propaganda. It will take more than the 15 years that have elapsed since the collapse of the economic experiment known as Marxist Communism to correct.

Ubiquitous remnants of Soviet propaganda

As a result, people don’t trust any program that requires working together or pooling resources. It smells too much like the Kolkhoz, the Soviet collective farm system of the 1930′s which stripped people of private farm land. Three generations of people were brought up with posters, statues and speeches extolling the virtues of productivity but lived through decades of guaranteed, flat wages that came month after month, year after year, unaffected by personal initiative or merit. Naturally, human nature being what it is, people performed at the lowest acceptable level. The state supplied rent, heat, electricity, fuel, schooling, healthcare and infrastructure all for free or very little. Moreover, people were not told how their profession, trade or work fit into the big picture, an example being a huge, abandoned watch factory in Armenia. Watch parts, manufactured in several other Soviet states were shipped for assembly here. The producers of “cogs” or “wheels” generally weren’€™t informed what they were fabricating, where it was going and for what purpose. It didn’t matter whether there was a market for the watches when finally assembled. The focus was jobs. Often a factory was planted out in the middle of nowhere with nothing for miles around followed by construction of concrete high rise factory housing for transplanted workers. When the collapse occurred, the factories died and the housing began to degenerate.

When the country began privatizing after 1992 (remember everything was state-owned) people either bought or were given the apartments they were living in. If they were in desirable locations (geesh, define “desirable” will ya?) they could be bought by others and families displaced. Even if families were given ownership the parents often could not find work to support the housing. Women were more likely to find work because they weren’t too proud to do anything, anything to support their children. Un-employment and underemployment exceeded 40%. Today it stands at 10% according to government figures. More accurate estimates place it substantially higher. Speaking of government; there is deep mistrust of the government. Corruption is institutionalized. The mafia and illegal gain abound. The disparity between rich and poor is huge.

We asked knowledgeable local representatives, “what percentage of the people are living very comfortable, rich lifestyles, what percentage are getting by with daily needs and what percentage are chronically hungry, discouraged, under employed and barely existing?” Answer: the first category, 100. We asked 100,000? No, 100 persons. The second category accounts for 30-40%. We can do the math on the desperately poor.

We’re learning how deep this problem is and how invisible it has become. Three whole generations of the population were “trained-out” of personal initiative by socialist pay policies which are surprisingly similar to the US trade union philosophy. They became disconnected from the noble aspects of work, to work for a purpose, a cause and a profit. Add a healthy dose of corruption and bureaucratic ineptitude and the sum of the equation is pervasive despair.

OK, back to our visit. As mentioned previously, Gyumri is the site of the 1988 Armenian earthquake that killed 25,000 people. Seeing the former high rise concrete housing and the poor level of workmanship, I’m not surprised by the numbers. Construction teams from all over the Soviet union and the world began reconstruction about a year later but then USSR collapsed and the work stopped abruptly. Cranes stand rusting in place and, while much of the debris was removed by relief organizations, several thousand damaged or partially constructed buildings haunt the landscape. Until fencing was installed kids played in the concrete and rebar rubble, a source of regular injury.

Abandoned construction

The ride back, like each one at the end of each day is quiet. My eyelids feel heavy from thinking too much and my face hurts from too much emotion all day and trying not to show it. Life is good at home.

Visits in Gyumri
Lila Tocci

We visited the World Vision office and met the two children we sponsor and their families. Satenik, a ten year old girl, was accompanied by her mom. Buizand came with his older sister, mother and grandfather. We gave gifts to each family, mostly the practical sort: school supplies, hats, gloves and a few small toys. We chatted the uncomfortable chit chat of the giver and the receiver. The boy’s mother was exceptionally articulate. The boy’s grandfather deeply moved. As we rose to take photos, the grandfather, a handsome, dignified man with piercing blue eyes, walked toward John, removed his engraved silver wedding band and grabbed John’s hand, gesturing, this is now yours. John, questioning the appropriateness of receiving such a dear gift, looked to the World Vision staff for guidance. With their reassurance, he placed the ring on his finger and the two men embraced to seal the covenant. Sponsorship became a solemn vow. The need for grandfathers to stick together to protect the children is something that is important here.

We saw a school in a poverty stricken district that World Vision had connected a gas line for. This may not sound impressive, but many live in unheated homes in a climate like our northeast US. Much of the heating is done by wood stove but trees and wood are a scarce commodity. The warmth of the school incentivizes older students to attend. Working with other international relief organization support, World Vision provides hot meals for the first three grades. Delightful artwork covers the walls. Extracurricular classes like dance give students the opportunity to learn steps and routines for performing. Parent groups sew costumes for school productions and crochet handcrafts for sale. In the kindergarten, twenty trundle beds hold napping children, some still awake and following the strange American retinue with their eyes.

We head off to an inclusive kindergarten where we are greeted warmly by an old woman in peasant dress, who nearly loses her thin shawl to the biting blowing wind. Inside only one classroom operates. There is no gas and electricity is too costly to heat more. We blow up balloons and hear about the economic realities.

Kindergarten

Next we visit a family living in a shipping container. This has been temporary housing since the 1988 quake in which they lost two children. Another son, Arthur, was born with cerebral palsy. Ashamed and alone, without jobs and on disability, the parents kept the boy home. No small feat when home meant one room with no running water and only a community latrine at the end of the street. Intervention from World Vision staff provided tutoring and surgeries. Today, Arthur walks, albeit with great difficulty, attends school and participates in extracurricular activities. Best of all, he is happy, grateful and willing to try what is new and hard because he’s seen given a chance to try.

See more photos of day 7

Day 6 Diary from Lila Tocci
Visit to an Armenian Orphanage

Today we went to an Armenian orphanage. World Vision is trying to convince the government to phase out these institutions since 80% of the kids in these places have parents, albeit dysfunctional. It was tough to see this big old dilapidated Soviet-era building, central heat no longer working and old, rough wood flooring, basically untouched since it was built in 1968 except for the World Vision donated bathrooms and cafeteria sinks. You realize what a lot our government does do, republican or democrat. We may complain about more this or less that, but I can’t help thank God we have a government that works.

Steaming mountains of trash outside of Yerevan (upon which is sited the detention facility/orphanage)

The orphanage was filled with so many sad things. The doors were locked between the older and younger boy’s bedrooms, packed four to a room, to prevent sexual abuse. The strong smell of urine from bed wetting was everywhere. There were so few books. Almost nothing decorated the walls. The fat head administrator, who didn’t have so much as a computer or file cabinet, had two refrigerators and a TV. Everything was broken and cracked. Windows were broken. Today was cool and we all had to wear jackets indoors. But last winter, we’re told, it was -5 inside!

Lila Tocci confronting the administrator by simply asking “€œso what do you do here?” Look out Mr.

Home Visit With A Boy Reclaimed From An Orphanage
We visited the family of a young man who was “redeemed” from the institution by his mom. She wasn’t the most stable or capable of women and chose to place her son with the state when her husband started drinking and physically abusing her. Social workers and psychologists with World Vision intervened, counseled her and convinced her to regain custody. Now they live in an old Soviet apartment building with no heat and no lights in the hallways. I’m not sure if there is water. I saw a sink in the entry way but it did not look like it had been used. The apartment was full of clothes and jars and things strewn here and there. In spite of the disarray, the boy came in and took out a folder of his drawings. One had been submitted to a World Vision children’s contest. It won. He was proud to show it to us. The mother brought out a weaving she was working on. When I went out into what I think was a kitchen, the older brother was showing John [Tocci] and Tim [Tocci] his portrait pencil sketches. They were truly works of art. In the midst of this chaos, in the midst of the crumbling concrete steps, boarded up elevator shaft, dark hallways with electrical cords dangling like overgrown vines and trash just heaped up besides the building, this family was together. The youngster was proud, the older brother gifted, and the mother, who never got out of bed although, dressed in several layers of clothing, dignified.

The End Of The Day
We just returned from a wonderful dinner with the Director of the Development Program, a young woman named Marina, and Mark, the National Director. We ate, Mark poured wine and toasted his fine employees, especially Marina. They work fearlessly, in spite of a government that would prefer that they sit down and shut up. Marina goads Mark, although I don’t think he needs much prodding. We even danced a traditional Armenia folk dance to the live music playing at the restaurant. So it was a full and hard but delightful day.

We have been in desperate places yet seen wonderful things. We are meeting compassionate dedicated people. It all cannot be neatly separated yet, perhaps because humanity is like that, where does the noble end and the base begin? Truly I am glad to be here. Truly I have no idea of what God will ask us to do about all of the deep need we witness.

Day 5 Diary from Lila Tocci
Travel to Armenia

“Crossed the border” sounds simple but entails driving to the border between Georgia and Armenia, obtaining an exit visa from Georgia at the first kiosk, having your visa for Armenia approved at the next kiosk, and at the final kiosk, registering as you enter Armenia. We said goodbye to our faithful Georgian chauffeurs, then shifted luggage to the three small Russian 4-wheel drives called Nivas for the drive into Tavush.

The World Vision literature describes the region best: “A war-torn, poverty-stricken area in the north east of Armenia, where the remote location, poor roads, lack of communication systems and insecurity with neighboring Azerbaijan hinder economic development and contribute to wide-spread poverty and high unemployment.”

Armenian village that World Vision is working in

Our trip into Armenia took us over winding mountain roads in the “No Stop Zone” (never, for any reason) where the byway is the border between Azerbaijan and Armenia. Azeri fortifications and Armenian trenches are tucked into the hillside where hostilities are expected to resume in the spring.

There was an impalpable sadness. We saw the tumbled rock remains of an Azeri village, Armenians forced them out. So many men were hanging out on the street corners in small groups, talking, waiting, bent over the hood of a stubborn car. Occasionally we passed a man with three or four cows. The villages on the main road are not so bad off, the traffic creates opportunities that mountain villages don’t have.

Scores of guys waiting to work, this was only about 10%!

I asked the World Vision Program Manager, Curt von Boguslawski, about the young people. “The ones who can, get out, usually to Russia. If we’re lucky, they return. Once they return, they never leave. They come back to Tavush with a bit of money and buy property.”

Curt von Boguslawski, World Vision Program Manager

So what is World Vision doing here, in this remote and seemingly forgotten enclave? They have set up a local office with programs on health and nutrition and introduced a child sponsorship program. Most importantly, they have helped establish forty Civic Action Groups where the citizens assess their own needs and receive help with development planning, proposal writing and fundraising.

We saw the results of one such project at a farm cooperative. The farmers pooled their pastureland, own cattle and an additional 25 cows, in various stages of pregnancy, given to them by World Vision. Part of the World Vision support required that the farmers donate a certain number of gallons of milk to the local kindergarten each week. The cooperative decided it could improve its economic viability by having its own milk pasteurization and slaughterhouse. They have also realized the need to find markets other than the local population and are hoping to raise more beef cattle.

One big gain from World Vision involvement and instruction has been disease prevention and early intervention. Farmers see the importance of ventilation in the barns to improve air circulation and reduce heat and dampness.

Next we went to an older school building, again unheated except for one room where a sewing cooperative worked. Using donated commercial sewing machines women with no other means of support were making sheets and other linens. Part of their deal was that a certain number of sheets had to be made for the local kindergarten.

Kindergartens in Armenia seem to include pre-school. Naps are mandatory. They aren’t the “rest on a little carpet square with a head cushion type” but are full hour long taken in a youth size bed with mattress, sheets and comforter. When not in use the beds are stacked against the walls, three high in trundle-bed fashion. Fresh new sheets are very helpful indeed!

Our visit ended with Armenian coffee made on the ubiquitous wood stove right there in the workshop. The youngest woman prepared and poured, using the customary demitasse, accompanied with chocolates. We were shown gracious hospitality through out both countries. It is humbling when people with so little share so freely.

Check out more pictures of Day 5