Ch 41, Day 2: Up the Meghri Valley

37.4
kms, June 8, 2021

The
next morning the Traveler is up early, eager to begin seriously
exploring this country and this continent. He really wants to do
this segment of the Journey entirely on foot—however he will bend
the “continuous hike” rules a little. Today he plans to leave his
backpack at the hotel... hike for a day... then hitch a ride back and
enjoy another dinner at a the nice restaurant and a night in a
comfortable bed. Then tomorrow he will hitch a ride up the road and
pick up where he left off. That's the plan, anyways.

All
is quiet as he walks up the road alongside the Meghri River. Here
the Meghri Valley is narrow, with steep slopes on each side. Seems
like an unlikely place to build a town. And this isn't just any
random town either. Meghri—he later reads—has been inhabited for
over 2500 years and in 987 it became part of the kingdom of Syunik.
However, from the 12^th the the 15^th century it
was invaded and destroyed repeatedly by Seljuk, Mongol and other
forces. Turns out, despite being surrounded by mountains and at the
mouth of a dead end valley, this town has seen more than its share of
action over the centuries. Then in the 16^th century, this
town became part of Persia, and a British officer described it as one
of the most beautiful glens in Persia, with many churches and
orchards.

Further
up the road, the valley widens, with idyllic farmland surrounded by
steep wooded slopes. Here the Traveler starts to really feel the
charm of this valley, imagining what a peaceful life it could be
here... cultivating your own crops... being self sufficient... not
worrying about what goes on in the rest of the world.

He
reaches a village, Lehvaz, on the west side of the river and
decides to go check it out. He soon finds himself walking along
narrow twisted streets up the hillside, lined with walled in houses.

But
something feels a bit surreal about this place. First of all, the
cars—about 4 out of 5 of them is an antique Russian Lada! These old
cars, he soon learns, are quite common here in Armenia still, but it
does still feel strange to see nothing BUT Ladas! What is going on in
this village?

He
sees just a couple old people shuffling about. He greets a man as he
passes... the man doesn't respond. There is something very
depressing about this place. Suddenly the idea of this valley being a
sort of Shangri-La, where a self-sufficient culture can prosper
undisturbed clearly feels way off. This is not a happy, prosperous
area. It seems most of the young folks have left. And those who
have stayed behind do not appear to be doing well.

The
Traveler looks finds a narrow pathway between buildings he hopes will
allow him to look back around to where he came. It takes him to an
area of ramshackle buildings made of pieces of scrap metal.

A
shantytown? No. On closer look, it appears that this is where the
animals are kept, in a separate “animal ghetto” part of the
village. Actually, the concept does make sense—much healthier than
having lifestock right next to the houses where people sleep. But
thinking of other parts of the world where people build sturdy barns
for their animals to sleep in, this does feel pretty half-hearted...

The
Traveler continues on up the road, thinking of what he has seen.
This semi-abandoned village is quite a contrast to the lively rural
villages of Africa and the Middle East he has wandered through, full
of children running about and playing and plenty of young folks.
Yes, those villages might be poor, but they are alive and energetic.
The empty rural village, he will see more and more, is very much a
European phenomenon.

Why?
He wonders. He thinks of different reasons: Lower birth rates. The
fact that it's relatively easy to emigrate to other countries where
there are more opportunities. The constant threat of war and economic
instability. Just the fact that living in a village growing
appricots just isn't very

 appealing to young people these days.

Whatever
these reasons are, Lehvaz does not have a cheerful air to it.

The
Traveler continues on up the road as the valley narrows. Along the
way, he peers down to the rushing Meghri River and spots something
intriguing: the remains of an ancient arch bridge, a reminder that
this valley has been a transportation route for a long time.
Nowadays, with, it's long borders with Turkey and Azerbaijan closed,
this valley is a vital transportation route connecting Iran with
Armenia and beyond. By the side of the road, the Traveler spots a
couple of Iranian tanker truckers, stopping to make tea and take a
break by the side of the road, before continuing with their lengthy
journey.

Alpine
Scenery

As
the valley starts to open up a bit, the Traveler is greeting by a
exciting sight: snow capped mountains. Partially hidden in a swirl
of clouds are three jagged peaks rising up above the lush, green
valley and a couple of villages nestled in its lower slopes.

“I
didin't expect to see snow this far south—in July!” the Traveler
exclaims to himself. There's something about perennial snow that
gets his heart beating faster. Perhaps the stories and images from
his childhood about Switzerland. It's something he really connects
with.

He
knows he has to make a bit of a detour to check out the village on
its slopes. In fact... there's a part of him that wants to climb
higher and higher and fully experience these beautiful mountains.
Also, he hasn't come across any shops or restaurants along the way,
and he's feeling quite hungry and thirsty.

He
reaches Lichk, and sure enough, there is a shop here, where
the Traveler eagerly stocks up on bread, snacks and enjoys an ice
cream bar. The shopkeeper invites him to sit down and rest for a bit,
as they attempt to carry on a “gesture conversation”--together
with another old man there.

The
shopkeeper says that, yes, there are tourists who come here, and some
climb up these mountains, which take a full day to climb. It's
tempting... but the Traveler decides that he needs to continue on.

As
he walks through Lichk, he gets a different feel for this place.
Many houses are abandoned. Other traditional houses—which could
look very beautiful if maintained—are in sorry shape. It seems
there's been almost no investment here in a long time.

The
Traveler thinks of Switzerland, and it strikes him that the
landscape, weather, and resources of this area and Alpine Switzerland
are quite similar. Beautiful scenery... plenty of water... enough
flat land to cultivate... potential hydroelectric power...

Why
are the two countries so strikingly different? He wonders. Is it
just because the governments, economies and geopolitics of the
countries are different? Or could it be something within the culture
of the people as well?

Later,
hiking through the Alps, he will see villages that from a distance
look just like this one. But there, he will see folks working the
land, running small businesses and keeping their houses in tip top
conditions. People who could easily move to an urban area and enjoy
a easier life. People who are “rich” by global standards, but
still do heavy outdoor farm work. They choose the rugged
mountain life, and pass on these values to their

 children.

Could
villagers here in Armenia do the same if they wanted to? Or are their
too many forces outside of their control, pulling them down? The
Traveler wonders.

Infrastructure
and business bureaucracy is a big factor, he realizes. In
Switzerland, a farmer can get a bank loan and set up a quality cheese
factory in his home, knowing that there are good roads, streamlined
trade routes and open borders to get his product to other parts of
his country as well as neighboring countries. Banks and their
customers have a long history of trust with each other due to a
shared culture of honesty and efficiency. And, again, parents pass
on these business skills and knowledge to their children.

Here,
Armenian only have to deal with closed borders, the shadow of war and
a less than stellar government—but also the legacy of 70 years of
communism that still lingers in this part of the world... not the
best conditions to cultivate an entrepreneurial spirit.

The
Traveler continues on up the road, pondering on what this means for
the future of this region.

The
Picnic

It
looks like he will be reaching the end of this valley before long,
and climbing up over a pass into another valley. He would like to
take a dip in the Meghri River to memorialize this experience. He
finds a way down to the river, next to the remains of another ancient
bridge... but alas, the water is moving too fast to enjoy a proper
dunking, so he finally gives up, and continues on.

The
road starts to climb a series of switchbacks up the steep
mountainside to the pass. He successfully finds a shortcut up one of
the switchbacks, and a trail that he hopes will be another. Right up
ahead is a an antique Lada, kind of hidden away. The Traveler feels
just a tad bit uncomfortable, wondering what someone might be doing,
parked here in the middle of nowhere.

Turns
out he has no reason to be concerned. It's just a family having a
picnic, here on the mountainside. The Traveler greets as he passes,
pretending he knows where he's going. Their response? Immediately
insist that he joins them.

This
will be the first of many invitations on his hike through Armenia.
He decides to accept, and certainly does not regret the decision.
It's his first up close look at Armenian family.

This
family consists of grandpa and grandma, their adult children,
daughter-in-law and grandchild. They all look like regular, down to
earth folks, with a table spread out with your typical Armenian
picnic fare: grilled meat... cheese... tomatoes and cucumbers...
watermelon... and, of course, vodka. Always vodka. Immediately the
grandfather starts piling food on the Traveler's plate and being very
insistent that he eat. Whenever the Traveler starts to finish, more
food is piled on, to the point the Traveler feels he needs to be
grateful, but firm that he is FULL! ... to no avail.

No
one speaks English, but this doesn't seem to be a problem. As they
find many ways to have “discussions”. Using gestures... showing
pictures of family or places... They seem very happy when the
Traveler pulls out his guitar and shares some of his songs with them.
He isn't quite sure what sort of music he knows that they might
connect with and attempts som of his more passionate Spanish songs.
This seems to go over quite well.

The
grandfather is the more cheerful one, joking—even showing the
Traveler some wild plants that you can munch on the stems on the
spot. It's a big contrast with the sad, melancholy faces the
Traveler has seen along the way to day. And it turns out, the whole
family lives here in Meghri Valley. None of the sons have gone to
seek greener pastures abroad.

The
Traveler looks at the sons. They do seem a bit more tough and
hardened. One looks like he is in his mid-thirties and not married.
Tooth decay does seem to be an issue. He gets the feeling that this
family has experienced some real hardships...

And
yet... here they are, having a picnic together... all three
generations... It's a heart-warming sight. A wonderful finish to
this day that has brought a lot of mixed feelings about this country.

The
Traveler decides to call it a day, and accept a ride back to Meghri
proper. He tries to invite them all to the nice restaurant for a
drink, to be able to reciprocate the hospitality, but they refuse...

And
so he enjoys a pleasant evening, with another delicious dinner...
another stroll around town... and heads back to his hotel for the
night.

He
is already liking this travel style: spend the day doing a grueling
hike... trudging along a road, wondering what people are thinking of
you... then... take a shower, change your clothes and sit down at a
nice restaurant, feeling like a new man and a member of “respectable”
society. Go to your warm bed, and tomorrow do it all again.

I'm
liking this already, he smiles to himself.