Ch 41, Day 16: Where Four Countries Meet

 31.4
kms, June 22, 2021

Going
around one last bend... and there it is. The wide, open plain of the
Aras River laid out before him. The flattest area the Traveler has
seen since the beginning of this hike. And rising up on the other
side is the majestic Mount Ararat. Along the side, are the first
patches of green with irrigated orchards showing the beginning of one
of Armenia's most important agricultural regions.

The
Traveler takes a moment to let it all soak in. One of the things
that makes Ararat such a special mountain, is that it stands all
alone, surrounded by open plains. A standalone mountain give off a
much greater aura of grandeur than a mountain surrounded by other
mountains, the Traveler thinks.

Unfortunately,
the view is marred by a gray haze covering the valley. The Traveler
assumes it must be due to pollution—as over a million people, a
third of Armenia's population live in this valley. So Mt Ararat
doesn't look nearly as photogenic as it could.

The
Traveler looks at the map, and is struck by something else
extraordinary at this spot. He realizes that he is not just gazing
out at the border of Turkey and Armenia. This is one of the few
places in the world where you can see four countries at the same
time.

Right
to the southwest is the Azeri exclave of Nakhchivan. Right next to
that is Iran. But there's a sliver of Turkey that runs along the
Armenian border connecting it with Azerbaijan. If it weren't for
that sliver, Armenia and Iran would have a border right here, making
it much, much easier to truck oil and good between the two countries.
But since the border with Turkey and Azerbaijan are closed, the
trucks have to make the torturous trek through the mountains, tearing
up the already worn down highway along the way.

This,
the Traveler realizes, should be the place where two continents...
four countries... many cultures... the two mega-faiths... should meet
and there be movement of people and goods. But instead, it's a
closed border, with no movement between the two.

The
Traveler follows the look, straight road as is makes it way down to
the valley. To his left is a continuous wall, with lookout posts all
along the wall. It's obvious what it's for: it's a line of defense,
in case Azerbaijan were to try to invade through Nachkhivan. The
Traveler is quick skeptical as to how useful this wall would be as a
deterrent, considering that, in a “total war”, Turkey would
almost certainly be on Azerbaijan's side, and the long flat border
with Turkey along the Aras River would be all but impossible to
defend, especially with modern weaponry.

It's
a reminder of something that Armenia's prime minister seems to have
understood, but many Armenians have not: Armenia should do whatever
it has to do to avoid a “total war” with its neighbors. This
sort of war would not go well for this country.

So
the Traveler wonders, what is the purpose of this wall, really? Is
it for psychological effect, to give people the feeling, “hey, the
government has a plan to defend you?”

On
one side, an endless wall. On the other: miles and miles of orchards
with folks peacefully growing fruit, just as they have here for
thousands of years.

The
Traveler finally reaches the base of the valley and the town of
Yeraskh. Back in Soviet times, a train ran through here,
connecting Nakhchivan, Armenia, Georgia and Moscow. No closed
border. No borders at all, actually, as it was all one country.
Now, of course that border is closed to all traffic. But there is
still some economic activity, with quite a few shops and restaurants
along the road. The Traveler figures it must be one last pit stop
for truckers... and perhaps a place for shopping for folks coming
down from the mountains.

The
Traveler figures he'll look pretty suspicious wandering around closed
to the border, so he decides to go ahead and start making his way up
the Ararat Valley to Yerevan.

Villages
in the Ararat Valley

There's
an immediately different feel, being in this lush valley, surrounded
by green, and with farmland and villages all along the way. After
weeks of rugged, isolated wilderness, it feels to the Traveler that
he's finally reached “civilization”.

He
thinks about how perspective affects his view of his surroundings.
He imagines that, if he were to come directly from, say Germany or
France to a region like this, he would immediately be struck by how
impoverished, run down and semi-abandoned it feels. But coming from
the mountains, where life is much more difficult and resources are
much fewer, this area looks quite prosperous.

Here,
you have wide open space you can use to grow food with water for
irrigation, not just a tiny garden on the side of a gorge. You've
got a big city not far away that you can commute to for work if you
want... there's even a little commuter train that runs from the
border to the city. Yeah, sure there are abandoned industries along
the way—but there are also industries that are still running so...
it's a “glass half empty vs glass half full” sort of scenario.

The
pauses under a tree laden with fruit to pull out his guitar and
dedicate his first concert to this valley... then on up into the
village of Armash, where it seems every electric pole is
topped by a stork nest, each with an almost grown stork or two along
with their parents.

Here
you do see some homes that are pretty run down, and others that have
been and are being fixed up with fancy gates and extra touches on the
houses. The Traveler wonders though, if these are folks who have made
money locally, or if these are folks who have emigrated abroad and
just keep this house as a vacation home.
He follows a dirt farm
road a bit higher up, along a canal full of water, which doesn't seem
in short supply here, despite the arid climate. To his left is the
ever present image of Mt Ararat, which never lets you forget where
you are.

In
Surenavan—as in many villages and towns of Armenia, he comes
across an abandoned government building and little forgotten plaza.
While this might be seen as a sign that the government is falling
apart, the Traveler now understands that this is more due to the fact
that many towns have been consolidated into one official
municipality, making many of these government buildings redundant.
While he can understand the importance of efficiency—especially as
towns are losing population, it would be nice to figure out something
to do with these building rather than just abandoning them....

And
then, the highway divides. To the left is a motorway that bypasses
the villages and goes straight to Yerevan. To the right, the road to
the town of Ararat.

The
Traveler is excited about reaching Ararat. First, it's been a
while since he's been in a city and enjoyed urban amenities.
Secondly, he figures with a name like “Ararat”, there's got to be
something grand about it. Mt Ararat might not be inside Armenia, but
at least they've got a city named Ararat!

But
no... it feels pretty scrappy and run down. Road work is being done,
so it's very dusty—and to top that off, the electricity is off, so
the restaurants are all closed. The Traveler wanders up and down the
side streets looking for a plaza to rest and strum in, with no luck.
Finally he crawls through a fence at the edge of
town, up to a rocky plateau, with a sprawling abandoned factory
behind him, and the sun setting behind Mt Ararat up ahead, and
figures this is a good place for contemplation.

Afterwards,
back in town, he does find a plaza to strum in, with a cheerful vibe
and children running about. Electricity is back on, and he finds a
shwarma joint where he can enjoy something to eat... He realizes this
town isn't really that bad... he just had too high expectations.
Finally he calls it a day.