As I've come to experience what amounts to be the mildest winter in Armenia in recent memory, I'm surprised to learn just how rough things were nearly two decades ago. Under post-Soviet economic collapse, and winters so harsh, arctic climes seem more appropriate, people were forced to survive through a confluence of conditions unbearably difficult. With electricity unavailable, no running water, gas supplies extremely low, and heat at a premium, it subsequently caused a collective trauma that is still felt across the population. Those were desperate years that brought both the best and worst in people. It was a time that often showed to most people who were truly individuals to be trusted, and which ones were the first to turn their backs.
The factors involved in making the early 90's so difficult for Armenia are actually quite extensive, but a few significant ones can be identified. Before the Soviet Union's dissolution, years of failed economic management policies by Brezhnev and ill advised Gorbachev reforms caused significant problems, especially within those republics that were in the periphery of the country. The problems with construction equipment, poor building materials, corrupt contractors, and a blind eye from the highest offices to rampant disregard to safety standards eventually conspired together when Armenia was struck by the Spitak earthquake in December of 1988. This quake, which registered 6.9 in magnitude (on the Richter scale), happened to cause extensive damage to life and property. Although official casualty figures were artificially kept low, the true number of people who lost their lives is anywhere from 25,000 to 50,000 people. For a country with 3 million people, this is a significant blow. The epicenter was nearly directly under the town of Spitak, completely leveling it in the process. In addition, the larger city of Leninakan (now Gyumri) also suffered significant damage. Although this event led to the loosening of boarder restrictions and international aid pouring into a republic within the Soviet Union, the long-term damage to Armenia by this seismic event is still felt today. Many people displaced by this earthquake still have not been properly compensated or even settled. The orphans that were a result of this earthquake were often forgotten about and have grown to lead difficult lives. Their lower social status in society has been quite difficult to overcome.
The second major force involved in the Dark Years was the actual economic collapse following the break-up of the Soviet Union. The ruble, having lost most of its value made simple purchases extremely difficult. The transition required for the new Republics to adopt their own currency was mired in difficulties. The fact that this economic collapse happened to occur 3 years after the Spitak Earthquake made it even more difficult for conditions within Armenia. The ques for lines increased in proportion with the scarcity of available products. The collective farms and factories that were such a life-blood for Armenia in Soviet times fell nearly immediately into disuse. Simple public infrastructure like sanitation, water, and gas quickly became unavailable.
As a result of the aforementioned Spitak Earthquake, Armenia was forced to shut down its main supplier of electricity, the Metsamor Nuclear Power facility. The fear that a fault running directly under Metsamor would be the next to rupture and cause damage and a possible meld-down was too daunting of a prospect. The electricity shortages caused by Metsamor's shut down was significant enough to lead to infrequent power supply. Many were forced to improvise and develop methods of power consumption. Some used their last supplies of fuel obtained by the cover of darkness to power generators for an hour a day, while others used dangerous but ingenious methods of rerouting or "lefting" power from main government lines into their own private houses.
Probably the most significant dynamic involved in making the Dark Years so difficult was the Karabakh War of Independence. The tensions between Karabakh and Armenia with Azerbaijan were rising even before the Soviet collapse. Once the collapse was finalized, the numerous small-scale conflicts led to all out war. It was the Armenian's of Karabakh, an Armenian populated region that under Stalinist policy was administered by Azerbaijan, asking for their independence that was the ultimate reason for Azerbaijan's hostile actions. Naturally, Armenians of both Karabakh and Armenia proper took up arms and remembering the near annihilation by the Turks during the Armenian Genocide made this war personal. The years of 1991-1994 were dominated by the war and thus, are considered the true Dark Years. It was during this time that Armenia's border was nearly completely closed. With Azerbaijan fighting a war against Karabakh on its Eastern flank, Turkey, having deep historical and cultural ties with Azerbaijan, decided to also blockade Armenia from the West. To further complicate the border issue, Georgia to the north of Armenia was fighting a series of civil conflicts throughout those difficult years. In essence, even the northern border was closed due to its volatile nature. That left Armenia's limited Southern border with Iran as the only true method of ground-based transport. In practice however, the infrastructure with Iran and Armenia had not yet developed to allow for large-scale international traffic and commerce. Thus, in essence, the 3 years of the Karabakh war, until a cease-fire was declared resulted in the worst of what amounts to the Dark Years.
A secondary effect to the Dark Years was the depopulation of the country, as those with means and sufficient motive were able to leave. The immigration figures for this time period are limited at best, but it appears to be that at least 500,000 people left during the Dark Years. This is a significant blow to the work-force and availability of skilled work in a country of three million inhabitants. Many who weren't able to leave were forced to significantly depend on remittance from relatives abroad, especially those that lived in the United States and Russia. In those desperate times, it was the people who had some sort of life-blood outside Armenia that were able to live with some hope of eventual change. Yet, the reliance on outside forces and the lack of control over life's direction has continued to cause deep psychological scars to the population, especially the providers of families.
The scars weren't just psychological, but also effected the natural landscape. Before the Dark Years, large areas of Yerevan were covered in parks and trees. Almost all of the original vegetation was cut for fuel and disappeared. It's only in the last decade that the rebirth of parks are just starting to show. In other areas of Armenia, especially forested regions, large-scale logging that was needed for firewood lead to near total environmental disaster. Much of the virgin forests, especially in the Northwest and Southwest of Armenia were cut down.
Finally, what truly made the Dark Years stand out to Armenians was the brutality and harshness of the winters, especially '92 and '93. There was so much snow accumulated on the ground, that travel during the winter months was near impossible. Many of the resources in Armenia at this time were diverted towards helping to supply Karabakh with much needed equipment, especially as the counter-offensive was picking up. Besides the heavy snows, the weather often took a turn for the worst. It was not unheard of to have weeks of -15 or -20 Celsius weather. Keeping in mind the lack of gas, electricity, food, and water, this was indeed an impossible time to survive. Yet, each person who made it through the eye of this threading needle can tell a similar tale with numerous twists. The sheer human ingenuity required to compensate for these difficult times, and the variable methods of adaptation or even just existence that people used cannot be exaggerated. It's amazing that a large part of the population that was left in Armenia even survived through these difficult times. Experiencing a winter that is mild by Armenian standards makes it that much harder to try to understand just how hard those years were. To some who've been through it, they can hardly believe they had the strength to cope, and some don't recall just how they were able to adapt to those conditions.
Having explained the factors involved in making the Dark Years so difficult and significant, I will next write about the human side of the event. Just how did the people who passed through this storm live through that time? What was their method of survival and how do the Dark Years effect contemporary Armenian society. All in good time.....
Monday, February 15, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Viewing the differences is always a fight for objectivity
I've come to notice that it's very difficult to maintain objectivity when comparing the differences between two systems of education, governance, economics, university education, transportation, finance, etc. In every one of these subjects, comparisons can be made, but often, with great loss to objectivity. The vastly different origins in how these systems come about, their emergent properties so to speak, are dependent on a number of variables that include cultural nuances, historical trends, the presence of transitional economic systems, and the maturity of the existing entity among many others. I shall endeavor to list the differences that come to mind and how I perceive them, versus how it should perhaps be further objectively analyzed. It's difficult to fault for subjectivity when there are some things that are truly worse in one system over the other, while others are just a difference in perspective that perhaps would need some habituation.
As an example, the educational differences are quite striking. In the US, once one finishes high school, their higher education often consists of a Bachelors degree (for some, it requires 2 years for an associates degree at a community college first), which takes four years, followed by a Master's, which can vary in the amount of time, and can end with a PhD that requires a further number of variable years. If one wishes to specialize in a professional career in Medicine, or Law, then they attempt to enter a specific medical or law school upon the completion of their Bachelor's degree. The system in Armenia is quite different, and often times, students jump right into a 6 year degree in Medicine, straight out of high school. This definitely saves time, but as far as how well rounded one's knowledge of extra-medical or extra-law information is available, is probably less. It would be within my biases to suggest that the American model would be more advantageous to higher education, but I think this would be wrong. The educational model isn't only based on levels and years, but also on the nature of the subject and the depth with which they're covered. It seems to me that subjects that are studied in Armenia are covered in broader terms, and usually few items are skipped for brevity.
Besides the educational system, there's also the apparent student education behavior that's noticeably different. Students in theory are supposed to hold more respect for their professors, often standing while one enters, until asked to sit. This level of formality is unknown in the American system. Also, the tolerance for students to come in or out of classes are smaller, as they're often treated more like school children. Yet, regardless of how the formality of the system appears different, the students themselves are far less likely to obey them. They happen to speak through the whole lecture until scolded, they frequently use their cell phones, come late, and as for the male students who are the most frequent perpetrators of these modes of classroom respect, they often come to class with no books, notebooks, writing implements, or anything that would seem like they're active participants in their education. Perhaps due to their youth, or the fact that they're recent high school graduates, the maturity level definitely seems different than their American counterparts'. It's strange that the formality of the system is greater, but the comfort within it is far less. I don't think it would be fair to say that Armenian students would be better off with less formality, because the disruptive students would probably increase in number, or individually become more problematic.
As is the case with education, the regional economics of Armenia, thanks to the transitional economy, and the more "flexible" models of capitalism, tend to have many disruptive elements that make it difficult for the beneficial growth and retention of economic gains. The fact that the yoke from Soviet times still influences the thought that taking as much as individually possible from the system is the only way of staying on top, the reduction of corruption seems like a remote possibility. The burden that Soviet rule imposed on people's livelihood often still influences their decisions. This isn't just a problem with Armenia, but practically all the former Soviet republics, as well as a significant portion of Eastern Europe. Couple that with the fact that Armenians have had oppressive foreign rule for so long, the penchant for breaking or bending the rules is near phenomenal. As problematic as this system may seem, the American system isn't exactly free of trouble either. With the banking industry still running nearly unregulated, even after numerous bubble to trough cyclical changes, the national debt at trillions of dollars, the lack of savings within individuals, and the fact that the only thing keeping that economy afloat is lending and spending, the system seems to be teetering on the brink of failure. The only thing keeping the American economy afloat is the fact that like their giant banks, it's too big to fail. If America's economy fails, it will be catastrophic to global economic trends. As bad as this recent global economic crisis was, with the absolute failure of the American system, the danger to substantial chaos is quite obvious. Fixing this flawed system, or suggesting a few simple solutions would be about as easy as making Soviet style corruption disappear in Armenia's economic system. Though the situation is quite different, with American's living standards, per-capita income, earning power, quality of life, and other factors much higher, the fact that there are inherent unstable economic problems aren't excluded. Although I fully understand the difficulty Armenians face on a daily basis, with the realization that even the hardest work possible results in pay that is laughable when the living standards are so much higher, the fact that American's are also worked by the wealthy is no different. It's hard to focus on the ills of one system when it's possible there's greater ills created in another; but with more money to float around, there's more leeway to how corruption can influence economic trends.
It seems that when I speak of differences I notice in Armenia, transportation always seems to be a topic of discussion. I suppose it's one of the most obvious differences to another country. From an American perspective, Armenia's transportation system seems chaotic. Rules on the road, for example, are a weakly structured system, similar to anarcho-libertarianism. Basically, there are a few general rules one follows, but most are bent nearly to the point of failure. For one thing, people generally agree that the road is divided into two halves, with each half in opposite directions of each other. Even within the given half, there are some suggestions of lane markers. Most follow the general guidelines, but they're often turning into incoming traffic to avoid slower vehicles, while those lane markers within a given half are practically non-existent. Red traffic lights do have some meaning, as most cars are stopped, but often, they start speeding across the lane just before the lights turn green. If, in the rare moment that someone misses to accelerate on the pre-green red lights, then every single vehicle behind it will decide to signal their intent to run the bastard over. Driver patience is severely taxed, and where most people speed, nobody knows. They seem to be headed to solve the global economic crisis, but the most likely scenario is that they have to make it to a special designated street corner to converse for 6 hours with their friends. Now, I may find it laughable, but there are some things that are strictly enforced. There's a no-tolerance attitude towards drunk drivers: unless you're a police official, or have special diplomatic license plates. Although the system here seems chaotic, American's driving, though more orderly, often tends to gravitate towards the passively bad driving that's inherent in a system that licenses nearly anyone who asks. I can't begin to count the numerous times I've been nearly killed as a pedestrian, by inattentive elderly too old to see beyond their windshields. In addition, there are many who just drive inattentively, since the system is so ordered. In Armenia, should your attention from driving be diverted for longer than 3 femtoseconds, you'll find yourself with a pedestrian in front, a dog, three temporarily parked cabs, a marshutka, and an electric bus all conspiring to make you have the longest day of your life. It's as though if you sit in a car, you're forced to be as attentive as possible, cause inattention will either through accident or death, pull you from the pool of drivers. I guess it would be the same as a pedestrian. There is no pedestrian that can cross the street inattentive, because they would soon, through the process of Darwinian elimination, strike themselves out of the gene pool.
As an example, the educational differences are quite striking. In the US, once one finishes high school, their higher education often consists of a Bachelors degree (for some, it requires 2 years for an associates degree at a community college first), which takes four years, followed by a Master's, which can vary in the amount of time, and can end with a PhD that requires a further number of variable years. If one wishes to specialize in a professional career in Medicine, or Law, then they attempt to enter a specific medical or law school upon the completion of their Bachelor's degree. The system in Armenia is quite different, and often times, students jump right into a 6 year degree in Medicine, straight out of high school. This definitely saves time, but as far as how well rounded one's knowledge of extra-medical or extra-law information is available, is probably less. It would be within my biases to suggest that the American model would be more advantageous to higher education, but I think this would be wrong. The educational model isn't only based on levels and years, but also on the nature of the subject and the depth with which they're covered. It seems to me that subjects that are studied in Armenia are covered in broader terms, and usually few items are skipped for brevity.
Besides the educational system, there's also the apparent student education behavior that's noticeably different. Students in theory are supposed to hold more respect for their professors, often standing while one enters, until asked to sit. This level of formality is unknown in the American system. Also, the tolerance for students to come in or out of classes are smaller, as they're often treated more like school children. Yet, regardless of how the formality of the system appears different, the students themselves are far less likely to obey them. They happen to speak through the whole lecture until scolded, they frequently use their cell phones, come late, and as for the male students who are the most frequent perpetrators of these modes of classroom respect, they often come to class with no books, notebooks, writing implements, or anything that would seem like they're active participants in their education. Perhaps due to their youth, or the fact that they're recent high school graduates, the maturity level definitely seems different than their American counterparts'. It's strange that the formality of the system is greater, but the comfort within it is far less. I don't think it would be fair to say that Armenian students would be better off with less formality, because the disruptive students would probably increase in number, or individually become more problematic.
As is the case with education, the regional economics of Armenia, thanks to the transitional economy, and the more "flexible" models of capitalism, tend to have many disruptive elements that make it difficult for the beneficial growth and retention of economic gains. The fact that the yoke from Soviet times still influences the thought that taking as much as individually possible from the system is the only way of staying on top, the reduction of corruption seems like a remote possibility. The burden that Soviet rule imposed on people's livelihood often still influences their decisions. This isn't just a problem with Armenia, but practically all the former Soviet republics, as well as a significant portion of Eastern Europe. Couple that with the fact that Armenians have had oppressive foreign rule for so long, the penchant for breaking or bending the rules is near phenomenal. As problematic as this system may seem, the American system isn't exactly free of trouble either. With the banking industry still running nearly unregulated, even after numerous bubble to trough cyclical changes, the national debt at trillions of dollars, the lack of savings within individuals, and the fact that the only thing keeping that economy afloat is lending and spending, the system seems to be teetering on the brink of failure. The only thing keeping the American economy afloat is the fact that like their giant banks, it's too big to fail. If America's economy fails, it will be catastrophic to global economic trends. As bad as this recent global economic crisis was, with the absolute failure of the American system, the danger to substantial chaos is quite obvious. Fixing this flawed system, or suggesting a few simple solutions would be about as easy as making Soviet style corruption disappear in Armenia's economic system. Though the situation is quite different, with American's living standards, per-capita income, earning power, quality of life, and other factors much higher, the fact that there are inherent unstable economic problems aren't excluded. Although I fully understand the difficulty Armenians face on a daily basis, with the realization that even the hardest work possible results in pay that is laughable when the living standards are so much higher, the fact that American's are also worked by the wealthy is no different. It's hard to focus on the ills of one system when it's possible there's greater ills created in another; but with more money to float around, there's more leeway to how corruption can influence economic trends.
It seems that when I speak of differences I notice in Armenia, transportation always seems to be a topic of discussion. I suppose it's one of the most obvious differences to another country. From an American perspective, Armenia's transportation system seems chaotic. Rules on the road, for example, are a weakly structured system, similar to anarcho-libertarianism. Basically, there are a few general rules one follows, but most are bent nearly to the point of failure. For one thing, people generally agree that the road is divided into two halves, with each half in opposite directions of each other. Even within the given half, there are some suggestions of lane markers. Most follow the general guidelines, but they're often turning into incoming traffic to avoid slower vehicles, while those lane markers within a given half are practically non-existent. Red traffic lights do have some meaning, as most cars are stopped, but often, they start speeding across the lane just before the lights turn green. If, in the rare moment that someone misses to accelerate on the pre-green red lights, then every single vehicle behind it will decide to signal their intent to run the bastard over. Driver patience is severely taxed, and where most people speed, nobody knows. They seem to be headed to solve the global economic crisis, but the most likely scenario is that they have to make it to a special designated street corner to converse for 6 hours with their friends. Now, I may find it laughable, but there are some things that are strictly enforced. There's a no-tolerance attitude towards drunk drivers: unless you're a police official, or have special diplomatic license plates. Although the system here seems chaotic, American's driving, though more orderly, often tends to gravitate towards the passively bad driving that's inherent in a system that licenses nearly anyone who asks. I can't begin to count the numerous times I've been nearly killed as a pedestrian, by inattentive elderly too old to see beyond their windshields. In addition, there are many who just drive inattentively, since the system is so ordered. In Armenia, should your attention from driving be diverted for longer than 3 femtoseconds, you'll find yourself with a pedestrian in front, a dog, three temporarily parked cabs, a marshutka, and an electric bus all conspiring to make you have the longest day of your life. It's as though if you sit in a car, you're forced to be as attentive as possible, cause inattention will either through accident or death, pull you from the pool of drivers. I guess it would be the same as a pedestrian. There is no pedestrian that can cross the street inattentive, because they would soon, through the process of Darwinian elimination, strike themselves out of the gene pool.
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