If you ask average citizens on the street "are you happy with democracy" you will hear emotional, angry responses as they describe their inability to feed their families or pay for health care or find work. If you ask professionals or bureaucrats, whose careers were once guaranteed by the government regardless of their skills and who now find themselves facing early retirement, they too will respond with bitterness as they find their positions in society devalued. If you ask the directors of educational and cultural institutions, they too will tell you more than you want to hear as they explain the inadequate government subsidies, the reactions of their disgruntled staff and the decaying conditions of their buildings. For this segment of society democracy has only meant a debilitating downturn in their lives.
Their "best" days were probably in the sixties when, recovered from a world war, the Soviet Union's industrial, economic and social advancement was at its peak. History, of course, has proven that this once admired (and feared) communist expansion, without any national or individual accountability, eventually doomed the empire. It left in its wake a work force many of whom were untrained or discouraged from accepting or initiating any responsibility. And to make matters even more complicated, their jobs and salaries were guaranteed regardless of their performance.
As tourists we seldom came in contact with these average laborers, professionals or villagers who constituted at least 80% of the population. I remember in the early eighties always seeing thousands of men standing in groups on street comers in every city, town and village of Armenia with obviously nothing to do but get out of the house (some of whom actually had jobs but apparently no need to clock in); maintenance workers who earned so little they moonlighted at another job, leaving the first one several hours early to get to the second one; and, when visiting factories, seeing machinists so filled with vodka they couldn't function. Supervisors made no effort or had no incentive or, more likely, no permission to remedy to situation.
I remember how, on a professional level, government officials, industry directors, cultural groups and academic officials had to employ someone's brother, sister, wife or relative even though they had no ability in that particular field, demoralizing others who took their careers seriously; how graduate students from top local and Moscow universities complained that when they tried to implement their newly attained, more modern skills at work in Yerevan, they were told, "we don't do it that way here."
I remember how accepted it was on a construction site that at least half the materials would be stolen by management and workers alike; and how, when I called a particular ministry, I often found no one answering the telephone and, if I was lucky enough eventually to find a secretary, to be told she had no idea where her boss was; and most of all I remember that when I finally did make an appointment, there was never, but never, a piece of paper on the minister's desk, just a bank of telephones. (To this day, it is a mark of true progress for me when I walk into a government official's office and see papers covering the desk and a once forbidden computer).
As tourists in those days we kept on visiting centuries old churches, museums and attending cultural performances, thrilled to see a land and people that were "all Armenian." Most people were usually smiling (unlike the people in other republics of the Soviet Union), joking, singing, dancing and seemingly accepting the many injustices that were prevalent. It was only the onset of the Karabakh movement when millions united that we began to understand just how deep the anger and frustration was.
The Fallout after Democracy
It is now four years since independence. The average citizen in Armenia has almost forgotten that nationalistic spirit. They have even forgotten the satisfaction of the victory they shared and paid for in Karabakh. The shakeout in these years of transition from communism to democracy, from a controlled society to a free market economy, has been and is still painful.
If you try to zero in on one present condition in Armenia that is at the root of most unhappiness, it is money. Seventy years of subsidized living, coupled with these past few years of skyrocketing inflation, has left too many in dire straits. The average family subsists on one scant meal a day, usually bread and cheese or a small bowl of soup. School principals and university officials express concern over their student’s lack of ample nourishment. Cases of children fainting in class are not unusual. Responsible and concerned, they just do not have the financial means to offer a glass of milk or a snack to the 600,000 students enrolled in schools in Armenia.
The government has had to make some tough decisions in these dramatic four years. First, the subsidies to Karabakh and then the rebuilding of a war-torn country. Second, the financing of renovating a decaying infrastructure— roads, utilities, transportation, industry— and the supplying of needed commodities in Armenia such as import of oil, gas, wheat, flour, edibles, seed and raw materials.
For the first three years of independence, many hours, days, weeks and months were spent trying to avert a national crisis. How many times I have seen government officials at the highest level working around the clock to find solutions. I once asked, at the beginning of 1991, after the communist regime had fallen and all subsidies had ceased, how many dollars were earned that year by Armenia. About two to three million I was told. Hardly a sum to last a day in a country of 3,500,000.
Moving Forward
The progress, with all the problems people are facing, is still a very positive one. In fact, it is in many ways amazing how successful the government, under the leadership of President Levon Ter Petrossian, has been in achieving its clearly defined internal and external goals, especially considering a war, blockade and the country's lack of rich, natural resources. Certainly the humanitarian aid provided by foreign countries and agencies has eased many a crisis and the financing provided by the IMF (International Monetary Fund), EEC (The European Economic Community) and the World Bank has been a boon, but even these advantages are due to skillful negotiations and a trust in a stable, efficient local government.
Institutions have finally realized that they have to rein in their unrealistic numbers of staff and employees: that each professional, worker and laborer must put in a full day and contribute to the new priority of modernization and accountability. In some cases it is a natural attrition, in others, a difficult decision to add people to the ranks of the unemployed. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the next five years should bring considerable advances in the economic and social progress of the country.
Getting the Lights Back On
The terrible winter of 1992/93 is still fresh in everyone's memory. When recalling those days, it is not unusual for someone to say, "I could endure the cold but not the dark. All evening and night, no light. That was the worst."
Things have improved, relatively speaking of course. The nights are no longer dark. Most people are getting some electricity, enough at least to cook or to keep the refrigerator cold. If you pay, however, you can get ten to eighteen hours of electricity in the warm weather and six to ten hours in winter. The problem is, since blocks of apartments or houses are on one circuit, the entire neighborhood has to pay initial costs if anyone is to receive increased hours of electricity. Many groups have succeeded in collecting the $2000 plus required to install special lines and, naturally, after that each resident has to keep up their monthly payments of $10 to $25 if they want to continue receiving electricity. During the day, industry has priority but they too now find a monthly bill in their mail.
This new system has not only improved conditions but is finally providing much needed income to the government. It all sounds logical to us, of course, but last year when the first rumors spread about paying for light, gas, water and telephone, everyone was appalled (after all this was Armenia. Why should you pay if it's your country!).
But some petty pilfering does dip into government income. A friend went to the electrical company to pay her monthly bill. The employee said to her, "Your bill is 4200 dram (just under $10). That's a lot of money. I can send a man to reset your meter so you will pay less. Just give him 500 dram when he finishes." She smiled politely and answered, "Oh, thank you but my husband won't like that. He's funny that way. Take the 4200 dram."
Doing Business in Armenia
Life in Yerevan has improved in many ways. Gas is half the price it was a year ago, encouraging considerably more cars on the street. New restaurants and shops are opening. There is now a Reebok and an Adidas store, several electronic stores selling the latest Sony, Panasonic and Aiwa television sets, video recorders, stereo components and portable telephones (all at U.S. prices). There are a number of small supermarkets (some open 24 hours), laden with household supplies, delicatessen items, baked goods, shampoos, perfume and a variety of cosmetics. There is even Doka Pizza, with a truck parked outside advertising "Will Deliver" and their telephone number. Several brightly lit Coca Cola stands are new. Strangely enough, all during the communist period Pepsi Cola had a monopoly on the market but suddenly all you see in Armenia and Russia is Coca Cola.
Trade is booming. You can now buy a variety of foreign clothes, shoes, handbags and even carryon suitcases with wheels in markets set up in empty lots or near the football stadium.
Refrigerators, stoves, tiles, flooring, almost anything you need to outfit a house is readily available. Imported by locals from Iran, Bulgaria, Dubai and other Eastern European countries, a new middle class is emerging as they successfully learn the market.
As we were touring the stores, my driver said that during the communist days people would daydream about having all these shops. A few would say "What for? We can't buy anything with our rubles." The response would be, "Yes, but at least we can enjoy looking at the products." Now the same people are complaining, "Who wants these stores. We can't afford anything."
During a visit to the Nork Children's Center, I happened to comment as we were leaving about 3 PM that I needed to eat some lunch before my next stop. One of the employees said his friends had a nearby restaurant. He was sure we'd like it. Envisioning who knows what kind of place and the usual, disappointing meal, I said I only had half an hour. "I promise you. You'll be done in half an hour. You'll like it, really you'll like it." Although I had doubts about the meal because the location was hardly a place for a good restaurant and I had doubts that they knew what a half hour was, there was something in his style that convinced me to agree.
The restaurant (the owner begged me not to mention the name, saying he was not ready for tourists) was in the basement of an apartment house, in a neighborhood hardly geared for tourists. As we entered they turned up the lights, heated up the stove (lunch hour was over) and set the table in minutes. I proceeded to eat one of the best meals I have ever had in a restaurant in Armenia.
Halfway through the meal (which took forty minutes but only because I lingered!), a well-dressed, suave gentleman brought some lit candles, cognac and a long stemmed rose to the table. Turned out to be the owner. After a number of questions from me which he, at first, tried to evade, he finally loosened up enough to tell me his restaurant was 90 sq. meters (small), family run and acquired in 1987 during the communist era. "I paid plenty in bribes to get permission at the time," he said. "This year I paid again to legally own it," How much I asked... "Don't ask", he said, "It was too much." Going deeper I continued, "Well, do you feel any different now that it is really yours?" He hesitated, "No, I don't feel any different. I was running it then and I'm running it now." After a pause he added, "Well, I am going to redecorate, get new tablecloths, dishes, glasses and expand the menu. Come back in a year and you'll think your dining in Paris."
Another friend and AGBU member has bought the Benetton outlet (from Italy) established a few years ago. Realizing the merchandise was not selling because the price was too high, he told the factory manager to put everything on sale. "Sale, sale? We don't have sales in Armenia," was the response. For days, the new owner kept saying to anyone who would listen, "I don't understand. The business is mine. I own it and an employee is telling me I can't have a sale!" I noticed however that during my visit "Sale, 50% off" was printed on the window.
They say that some one hundred joint ventures have been officially established. Another friend from the United States whose father financed the construction and equipping of a ceramic factory some fifteen years ago recently rebought the business, which was in danger of closing, in memory of his father. It has been announced that a Greek company will soon open up a Coca Cola bottling plant in Armenia. A European industrialist invested in a diamond factory, discovered existing management beyond hope, pulled out and has now opened a second successful one.
A California Armenian has equipped the Jermuk water plant with an assembly line for producing plastic bottles. Another European Armenian recently told me he delivered the latest hi-tech computers with specially designed programs for the business he invested in. Wondering if the managers could learn the system, he was surprised to find them the next morning, at 6 AM, enthusiastically exploring and implementing the program. The stories are many, sometimes frustrating, sometimes hopeless and sometimes rewarding beyond expectation.
On a personal level, one year has improved the lot of many skilled workers and professionals. Qualified professors from higher education institutions are in demand as teachers in a growing number of newly established private schools and as tutors in a variety of subjects. Salaries now range $150 a month and more. Joint venture businesses are paying laborers $50 to $100 a month, middle management $200 and up and directors $500 to $1000 a month. Special Craftsman (carpenters, painters, artisans) are easily earning a minimum of three to five hundred a month from families building new homes or redecorating their apartments. Foreign embassies and agencies offer salaries from $250 to $800 a month. It does not seem much in Western standards but in some cases it is over a 500% increase in a year and a half. Then, of course, there are those who have established their own businesses; car repair, jitney service (hundreds of these vans now transport people in Yerevan), security companies, contractors, etc. Best of all the service industry and the innate entrepreneurial spirit is growing by leaps and bounds.
There is one snag, however. Even though many are earning more than they ever thought possible, if they deduct the required 30% income tax, they have to considerably increase what already seems to many too high a price for services. So it has become a cash business (and in dollars). You can barely get a receipt or record it officially. The government, for the present anyway, is losing millions in income. I'm sure they know it and I'm sure they've decided it's too positive a step forward to jeopardize the economic progress at this stage.
Armenians and the World
There is something very unique about the citizens of Armenia. Putting aside a small percentage of individuals who still espouse the communist ideology, Armenians have a friendliness and a respect for foreigners. Which, no doubt, has been influenced by their long and close relations with Armenian diaspora.
On a recent trip to St. Petersburg, Russia, the local papers were filled with angry protests against the selling of a local TV factory to the Dutch company Philips. "What do we need them for? We've been making TV sets for thirty years," was the local cry. Anyone who has watched a Soviet made television knows outside help is the only solution. (Even the U.S. can hardly produce a competitive one!).
I was discussing this phenomenon with Jack Maresca, former U.S. Ambassador to OSCE (Organization on Security and Cooperation in Europe) who was given responsibility to negotiate a Karabakh settlement and who is now with the Soros Foundation in Prague. During a breakfast at the Armenia hotel, he told me a joke making the rounds in Prague. A Russian, Frenchman, American and Czech are traveling on a train. The Russian takes out his caviar for lunch, eats a few bites and throws the rest out of the window. The Czech says, "What are you doing?" The Russian answers "Oh, we have so much caviar in Russia." The Frenchman drinks a few glasses of his vintage Beaujolais, then throws the half-filled bottle out. "What are you doing?" again asks the Czech. "Oh," responds the Frenchman, "We have so much red wine in France." The American unwraps his McDonald hamburgers, eats one, throws the rest out. Same question from the Czech, same answer from the American. Finally all three turn to the Czech and ask "What do you have too much of in your country?" The Czech picks up the American and throws him out the window.
Somewhat surprised I asked Jack why? It seems the Czech Republic is overrun with American lawyers and businessmen and the locals are resentful and angry. I doubt this would ever happen in Armenia.
Bits and Pieces
The Armenia hotel keeps improving (it's for sale I hear); new TVs with video recorders, CNN, NBC, Euro News and a variety of stations, a hair dryer in the room, softer towels and toilet paper and four hours of hot water 7 to 9AM, 9 to 11PM. The only problem is the price: in the new section $120 for an undersized double room and $220 for the smaller suites.
I suggested to someone that the hotel needed valet parking out front because the cars were double and triple parked, leaving many with no means of getting out. "Are you kidding?" was the response. "Who would give the key to their car to anyone in Armenia?" There's obviously a problem because a good number of cars in the country are alarmed. If you open your door too far and touch the car next to it, a blaring alarm immediately goes off.
The Armenia Air planes which now fly to Paris, Amsterdam, Athens, Beirut, Aleppo, Istanbul, Tehran, Dubai and Burgas (Bulgaria) have all been re-outfitted. Clean, no smell and the bathrooms work. A very posh VIP lounge has been built at the airport. Costs $5 but the service is great. I hear that customs and luggage retrieval have also improved.
In the old days the first tour for any visitor was Geghard (centuries-old church carved in the mountainside) and Garni (Pagan temple). Now the first request is Karabakh and the Dro trials. Cellular telephones are on the way. I saw a local group of four, each proudly carrying the instruments in their hands.
Gyumri
It's still an earthquake ravaged city. An estimated 16,000 families are said to be awaiting new apartments. Living in shacks with no plumbing, the number of victims needing homes doesn't seem to decrease from year to year even though the All Armenia Fund and the World Bank have completed at least eight hundred apartments and houses in the past eighteen months.
The newly built "Ani" complex of apartments on the outskirts of Gyumri, originally begun by the Soviets after the earthquake, does seem to have more life; more people in the streets, more stores and dozens of busses waiting curbside to ferry people into town or work.
Damaged buildings are still collapsing after storms and heavy rains. Gyumri Mayor Michael Vartanian, once the director of a puppet theater and Karabakh fighter, says the city doesn't have enough money to tear down irreparable buildings or even to haul the rubble away. Though it’s almost more expensive to renovate some of the less damaged buildings than build new ones, the World Bank is providing 80% of the cost if enough families pay the additional 20%.
Several factories are in production, hoping to go on three shifts a day by the end of the year. With these industrial jobs now available and construction by the World Bank in progress, employment has increased. Others in trade are importing goods for sale in street markets.
Foreign aid has not disappeared. The government of France has donated 8,000,000 FF for a school which should be completed in 1996. A number of foreign clinics built just after the earthquake are continuing to operate with local staff but unfortunately with few patients. Foreign representatives still visit to check on administration, usually bringing with them medicines and supplies.
Others, individually or in an organization, appear now and then with new projects. A Dane who had originally come to help in 1989, and who ended up taking an Armenian wife back to Denmark, returns every two years when he has collected enough money to begin a new project. A German group is building an orphanage, a German Armenian a new school. One of the recent success stories is the New York based Howard Karagheusian Commemorative Corporation's new dental clinic. Modem, clean, with the latest equipment, the clinic, located in the Ani complex, has only been open two months but already has files of 800 patients treated.
I asked Mayor Vartanian if he had heard any local anecdotes recently, thinking it would give me a sense of life in Gyumri. "Yes," he said. "An injured man is taken to the hospital. After being examined, the doctor tells the patient I have good news and bad news. First, the bad news. We have to amputate your legs. But the good news is we've found a buyer for your Adidas running shoes."
