On taking risks

Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, "I'll do nothing until I can be sure." Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean.

- Rumi

(Thank you to a good friend of mine who reminded me of Rumi with this post of hers.)

A queer woman’s take on living in the Caucasus (or at least Yerevan)

I live with my partner. In Yerevan. That might sound exceptional to some, but that’s just the way it is. We sometimes hold hands in public (especially if we’re rushing across the street in oncoming traffic). If we get any odd stares, it’s usually directed at my partner who gets odd stares anyway, even when she’s alone, from the way she looks. When we’re together, people ask her where she’s from, assuming I’m the one who’s from here and she must be from somewhere else.

Public displays of affection are limited, naturally, but then again you don’t see many heterosexual couples making out either. (I find that, in general, sex and sexuality — gay or straight — are taboo.)

When my partner goes to the doctor and he or she asks her if she’s having sex, she says no. Because we all know what is meant by that question: are you having heterosexual (a.k.a. penetrative) sex? Though I have yet to come across a doctor who clarifies the sex question. And it’s too bad really because how can you diagnose or treat someone if you’re not getting the full picture?

Actually, before asking the sex question, doctors often want to know your marital status: are you married? (And don’t think for a moment that this question might mean are you married to your same-sex partner.) As if from your response the doctor can assume that you’re having sex (ha!). But just to be sure, Doctor asks whether you’re sexually active after he or she has satisfactorily received a response to the marital status question. *sigh*

When we travelled in the region together, hotel and B&B staff assumed we were friends and so gave us a room with two separate single beds. But being an artist and a writer, we’re often inclined to be creative ;)

You should know that there’s no Pride Parade in Yerevan. [And no one I know has attempted to do what these activists did in Moscow this year. Though there was a symbolic gay wedding in Armenia a few years ago.] There are no rainbow flags on storefront windows proclaiming “Queer Dollars Welcome Here,” or banners advertising the next local queer event. There are no gay couples kissing in the street though I swear I’ve seen straight men more affectionate with each other in public than anywhere else I’ve lived. And unfortunately the odd gay man that might be depicted in a TV series is usually portrayed in a negative way.

There’s no law that specifically prohibits discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity, though thankfully there are a few NGOs that work with the LGBT community (in terms of support, advocacy, education, resources), as well as educating the mainstream public on what it means to be LGBT, explaining/educating on terminology and history, outlining human rights.

And of course, we are here. And there are many of us. Unfortunately, the ignorant views (often guided by religious beliefs and/or “family values”) makes it harder for us to come out and even threatens our safety.

Take for example British-based Armenian band VO.X who, in their latest video, label homosexuality a “perversion.” But, hey, they’re just expressing their personal opinion, right? Wrong. Even worse, VO.X has not only changed the settings on their video on YouTube so that comments are no longer allowed, but also added a description which says that this video is about Armenia ONLY (caps their’s) and the views and opinions expressed therein are “purely and subjectively Orthodox Christian and as such, within Armenia’s context, do not violate human rights.”

Are you kidding me?

I could go on and on about this topic, but others have already written extensively on it and so for more information, read blogger ArtMika’s post here, along with his follow-up post here, as well as Global Voices coverage here.

Armenia might have endorsed the UN statement against discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity in December 2008, but it doesn’t mean it has any laws that actually protect LGBT people from discrimination. [See this Wikipedia article on LGBT rights in Armenia that also includes a brief history... in case you’re ever confronted with the argument that it was Europe who “brought” the notion of same-sex relationships to Armenia — ha!]

The truth is, it’s not easy being queer anywhere. And yes, I agree that it’s especially not easy being queer in Armenia. But please don’t for a moment think that there aren’t any LGBT folks here, or that we can’t live our lives here like everyone else.

Life is full of contradictions. You don’t have to go far or look too hard to see the diversity that exists in the lives of those around you... even on these ancient lands.

Things I Love

Photo from my personal collection.

Eating. Cooking. Traveling. Writing. Blogging. Now if only I could combine these ingredients into a recipe for paid employment ;) Yesterday, I watched Julie & Julia and became inspired. Today, a brief post to remind myself (and you, dear reader) that anything is possible. Now back to the hustle…

The many faces of nationalism and xenophobia

I know there exists nationalist rigour in Armenia but I find it difficult hearing it on a personal level, on a one-on-one level and from people who I consider to be understanding, in general, and open-minded at best.

I very recently began volunteering with this great environmental NGO. I won’t go into the details here as this post is not about pointing fingers, but a wonderful, educated, and otherwise understanding man who’s been working at said NGO for over 12 years recently said some things that I, in my naïveté, was surprised to hear.

When talking about possible upcoming vacation time, I asked whether he’d be spending some time at Lake Sevan in Armenia or Batumi in Georgia (a popular tourist destination for Armenian citizens). He said he would rather die (or something to that effect) than give any of his money to Georgia and the Georgian people. He then went on to paint an essentialist picture of Georgians and how they only pursue their own interests, and that, at the expense of others. I was surprised because until then we’d been having a wonderful conversation about local and Diasporan Armenians and more interestingly on those Diasporan Armenians who repatriate to Armenia (case in point: me). I could understand his perspective and in general, I thought we understood each other. But on the topic of Georgia and the Georgians, he was quite firm and quite racist/xenophobic. And from there, our opinions diverged.

Then, yesterday I got a chance to meet a well-known Armenian sculptor. Another interesting conversation ensued, but more so on the topic of art and artists and we seemed to be in general agreement. And then, suddenly, he says how we (i.e. Armenians) forced the Turks who were living here (here? as in, in Armenia?) out and how towns and villages in Eastern Armenia had Turkish names (?). Now I don’t know about the facts of his statements, but the fervour in which they were spoken, the way he seemed so proud that we kicked out the Turks, really irked me. And yet, I didn’t find any way of saying anything otherwise since it would be his word against mine (read: older Armenian man born and raised in Armenia vs. young Diasporan Armenian who hasn’t lived in Armenia for a full year yet).

Incident number 3: a Facebook post by a friend of a friend who encourages Armenians outside of Armenia to return to Armenia, raise their kids here and not to intermarry with non-Armenians and produce children who, as he says, might be European or American. Um, hello? Do you live in this country? (He does.)

Look around you, my friend: quite a lot, and I repeat, A LOT, of local Armenians are not 100% Armenian by blood. Many are mixed, often Russian-Armenian. These type of statements only contribute to the false idea of “full-blood Armenians” which apparently are those who live in Armenia. Those outside of Armenia, be warned: you could have mixed-race or mixed-ethnicity children. Oddly enough, no one talks about that reality inside Armenia. Or about how this country has never been populated only by Armenians, and even today, there’s a sizeable Yezidi and Kurdish population (not to mention, the Iranian community, which has been growing in recent years).

And finally, another moment where I thought even in the best of intentions, even among those educated, open-minded groups of people that I fortunately have a chance to interact with regularly, there are age-old racist and xenophobic sentiments that may be hidden, but at any given moment can rise to the surface.

Case in point: Well-known journalist Onnik Krikorian who writes for Global Voices presented on “Social Media and Conflict Transformation on Armenia-Azerbaijan relations” at Bar Camp Yerevan yesterday. A nice refreshing change from the usual rhetoric when it comes to this touchy subject. However, during question and answer period, a couple of individuals stated that Azerbaijan should be the first to take a step (toward conflict resolution) and that it’s worse “over there” and what about all those lies the Azerbaijani media publish about Armenia? And with the snap of your fingers, we were once again confronted with age-old beliefs about the enemy and the “us vs. them” mentality.

Instead of pointing fingers, I say, instead of saying “they” should go first, why don’t  you look at your own actions? You can only speak for yourself and only control your own actions, so this should be our point of departure. Otherwise, the conversation goes nowhere. These type of statements are road blocks: they don’t move the conversation forward, they only lead to dead ends.

Onnik spoke about his Azerbaijani friends, about cooperating with Azerbaijani journalists and activists and how Armenians have more in common with our neighbour than we might think. He also made special mention of Social Innovation Camp Caucasus, which I was lucky to have been a part of earlier this year.

Another Bar Camp participant, who also said she has Azerbaijani friends (Onnik, you seemed surprised ;) asked, how effective do you think this grassroots level of connecting one-on-one really is? Shouldn’t it be the governments’ (both Armenian and Azerbaijani) responsibility to initiate conflict resolution? To which Onnik brilliantly replied, “If you’re going to wait for governments to initiate change, you’re going to be waiting a long [and I add, long] time.”

I think it’s all about the grassroots level. It starts here. It starts now. With us. We don’t wait for governments, nor should I say NGOs. We start with each of us. Though I believe we should address the nationalism that’s touted by the media and by the state, I don’t think that’s where change happens or where we should start from. We start with you and I.

Stop the xenophobic comments against Georgians, Azerbaijanis, and Turks. Stop the generalizations and the essentialism. It doesn’t move the conversation forward. These are age-old beliefs and though, yes, history must be addressed, I agree with Onnik: we don’t start mending relations with our fellow Azerbaijanis by talking about Nagorno-Karabakh. Let’s talk about something else. And once we’ve found our common ground (because, trust me, we have a common ground), only then can we move on to tackling the tough issues.

Love and Fear

Returning to Yerevan after a week in Amsterdam, I realize that it’s been nearly a month since my last post (I’m not too happy about that). Lately, I’ve felt somewhat removed from what was going on around me: I haven’t been catching up on local and international news (except to find out that ash clouds continue to impede people’s travel plans ;) and I haven’t been reading fellow bloggers’ posts and Twitter updates. I guess I’ve been focusing more on what’s going on inside than what has been happening outside in the world.

I’ve been revisiting memories by revisiting places I lived and people who I knew before I moved to Yerevan, and I’ve been listening to my heart, trying to tell her it’s okay to be afraid, but just don’t let the fears overtake you.

Seeing my ex who’s now a good friend reminded me of how I learned to love. How I opened up my heart in ways that I had never known it was possible to be before and how that has had a profound impact on my life since then. It’s also shown me where I was and where I am now.

I think it’s important to examine our past, but not to let it consume us in the present.

It’s important to know where you come from, how you arrived here.

My past provides guidance because it shows me the mistakes I made (and the ones I didn’t) and the choices I can make now to move in the direction I want to go. It provides the focus that I sometimes feel that I’m lacking, especially these days when I’m unemployed and trying not to let fears of this unfamiliar state consume me.

I’m trying to focus on what I love. “Where there is love, there is no question,” so reads a post on Tara Agacayak’s blog. I love Tara’s writing and this blog in particular, which inspires us to do what we love.

Where do you find your love? What about your fears? Is it possible to provide space for both in your life (without letting the fear overtake you)?

Introducing: Artists in Residence in Yerevan and Diplomacy at Work

On April 24, instead of making the annual trek to Tsitsernakaberd Genocide Memorial in Yerevan as Armenians (especially Diasporan Armenians living in or visiting Yerevan on this day) are expected to do, I went to the opening of an art exhibit at my friend’s apartment. The artist, Linda K. Anderson, an older American woman who’d come to Yerevan by way of Sweden and then the Netherlands, was here for two months as an artist-in-residence through the Art and Cultural Studies Laboratory (ACSL).

However, due to unforeseen circumstances that involved a falling out with the ACSL Artistic Director, she ended up completing her work and arranging other accommodation outside of the residency program. I really admired her courage and initiative in taking what turned out to be a bad situation and making it work for her. She ended up completing the work she came here to do, but on her own terms.

Her work, called “Armenian Cave Paintings,” was exhibited in what she called “Gallery Shushan” (named after the woman, my friend, whose apartment she was staying and working in). The huge canvases (as well as a few small ones) were spread out throughout the apartment. Linda had made a blackberry crumble and prepared other hors d’oeuvres for the occasion and her son, David, had composed music for the event which was played throughout the evening. We had a chance to meet Linda’s family via Skype. All in all, it was a cozy atmosphere.

One friend, an art critic and contemporary art professor in Yerevan, recalled how the exhibit-in-an-apartment reminded him of Soviet times when institutions didn’t exist for art that wasn’t the socialist realism that was the main stay of the period and “nonconformist” artists would organize exhibits in their apartments. And though I have never lived in a Soviet country, I had a chance to experience what that might’ve been like, if only just for a moment.

The unforeseen events which resulted in this exhibit in a residential apartment and the feeling of being part of amazing moments that happen on the fringes are the same wheels in motion which resulted in meeting Asheer Akram, another artist from the US who — wait — is also here as an ACSL artist-in-residence.

Asheer was given my number from a mutual friend of ours who had called me to say that an artist from the US (Asheer) who was in Yerevan had his Macbook power adapter stolen from his luggage and could I please lend him my power cable so he could at least recharge his laptop till a new one arrived from the US? Of course I agreed.

But wait — stolen from his luggage? Yes. Apparently, Asheer, coming from another artist-in-residency program in Pakistan to Yerevan (by way of Dubai) had his plastic-wrapped luggage opened and checked by Armenian customs and the result: a missing Macbook power adapter and a carton of Pakistani cigarettes. Can you believe it? It’s quite possible that Armenian customs officers kept those items for “security” purposes with plans to sell the power adapter and most likely smoke the cigarettes themselves. I mean, really. Ouf!

Luckily, Asheer wasn’t missing anything else but buying a charger from the “Apple” store in Yerevan was out of the question: $200?! Yes, apparently what costs maybe $70-80 USD in the States costs $200 in Yerevan. I told Asheer: economies of scale (and perhaps the ability to get away with charging atrocious prices that no average Yerevan citizen could afford.)

Making Connections

My personal goal of “Making Connections” last year seems to have carried over into this year. With that in mind, I decided to introduce Asheer to Linda. I believe that artists should meet other artists. And you should always hear all sides of the story ;)

Informal, impromptu gatherings in Yerevan are part of what I love about being here. Not just among artists, but among diverse groups of individuals. And this, I find, happens on a regular basis.

Meetings between Armenian president Serzh Sargsyan, Azerbaijani president Ilham Aliyev and Russian president Dmitry Medvedev on settling the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict or any other number of local conflicts are nothing compared to the many informal trilateral and multilateral meetings that take place among locals, repats, expats and visitors.

The conversations and topics that are covered are truly diplomacy at work. We complain about local and regional issues [whether that be the art scene(s) or politics or a host of other issues], but respectfully. We understand that we’re all in this together. We understand the importance of community. Of living in this small, globalized world. Of respecting differences and history. And sometimes amazing things happen. Collaborations, connections, cooperation. 

And though this blog post is about visiting artists, it very well could be about repats or expats or locals discussing issues they may not agree on or expressing their frustration at the state of affairs.

Yerevan’s just like that. To me, it’s still full of surprises, “coincidences,” random meetings, and making connections.

Magic.

A Correspondence Between Two Lebanese-Armenian Lesbians on the Armenian Genocide: Bekhsoos

Queer Arab magazine Bekhsoos by the amazing folks at Meem, a group of lesbian, bisexual, queer and questioning women and transgender persons in Lebanon, published a correspondence between two queer Lebanese-Armenian women who talk about their identity and the Armenian Genocide.

Here it is, respectfully republished, below (thanks to Unzipped: Gay Armenia where I first found out about this correspondence).

P.S. I know Shant personally, albeit virtually, and apart from being a feminist and a warm, genuine person, she's also a great filmmaker and artist ;)

__________________________________

Dear Sarag,

When I first realized I was queer, it wasn’t anything shocking for me as I was always the minority of some other minority.

My first cause ever was the Armenian genocide and I held on to it like someone holds on to their dear life. The idea that another group wanted to erase something very essential in my being and eradicate it was enough for me to want to resist.

It’s not easy to know that someone wants you to no longer exist.

So when I look around now and I think of the homophobia and the people who want to eradicate us because for them we are a disease, it’s not something new. When I think of all the gendercide and how a lot of our societies break women and burry their existence in petty beliefs, it’s not something new.

I am a queer Armenian Lebanese woman; a half-breed to add to that and this is the essence of my survival. For 95 years our people have been screaming for justice and we will keep on shouting and screaming even when the dearest feminists shout back but who cars about this now? How is it relevant to our cause?

I want to tell you how relevant it is. It is relevant because it is my cause and I am a feminist and it’s a human cause.

It is relevant because its Darfur and Gaza, it is relevant because when we got here we were thrown in camps and orphanages and built our lives from rubbles, it is relevant because women were raped and killed and children sold, it is relevant because justice has not been restored. And you know, when justice is not restored the whole order of your world crumbles. You ask me why I still want them to utter words or recognition? Because I want to be in peace, I want to believe in the good order of the universe, I want to know that the good prevails that there is hope. This is why I fight as a feminist, this is why I fight as a queer, it is why I choose these battles where small victories fuel me with hope

and I think of bigger ones.

Imagine you had 5 more years, only five years to prove that you’ve been raped and beaten, your land stolen. You had five years and you show humanity proof and ask for justice to be made and you know that once those five years go by, humanity’s corrupt system will erase your trauma from its history and move on. You are silenced and mute and your rapist still wandering out there. What would you do? We have 5 more years and then it’s the centenary and after that according to international laws our cause is a lost one. Wonderful example to give to states like Israel, practicing apartheid.

Love,

Shant

___________________

Dear Shant,

You already know, I relate to everything said in your e-mail.

I have always been a part of a minority, ever since I was born.

As I discovered more and more about myself, I became a minority of a minority and it has always been a struggle.

A struggle mainly for my rights. For my rights as an Armenian living in Lebanon, as a Woman, and as a Queer.

A struggle for belonging.. I was born in Lebanon but let’s face it, do I really belong here? It doesn’t really feel like it since I have always been pointed out as The Armenian among the Lebanese. It doesn’t really feel like it since el 3arabeh taba3 el arman mkassar, since we have a different culture and different traditions.

The next question would be. Do I belong in Armenia? Here… This breaks my heart. I don’t even belong in Armenia, because I am only a tourist there. A tourist that doesn’t even speak the same language as the Armenians there.

I have heard so much about Armenians since I was in school by my teachers, my parents, and my grandmothers. I have heard so many stories about my own family, about my own grandfather and my great grandfather and grandmother.

What do I do with all that? Get over it? Let it go?

It’s impossible…

It has become a part of me. A part of my core being.

It is in the blood.

What I find messed up is how countries like The United States or the European union use the Genocide as some joker card against Turkey. They don’t care about the recognition, they hold on to that card so that they can have political stances and gains. The U.S. gets to have army bases and fly into Iraq from over Turkey and the E.U. uses it to stop Turkey from getting in its sphere. And our history relies on their twisted politics.

We fight every day for our rights as queers. We want justice, we want acknowledgement.

We get frustrated and irritated. We go insane when we hear about all the queers and transgendered people that have been murdered.

All this blood spilled… Who could really get over it? Who could really accept it in the first place?

Hate, denial of our existence and their desire to annihilate us…

It’s something none of us should shut up about.

The Armenian cause is so close to all the other causes we believe in and fight for.

You don’t have to necessarily be an Armenian to feel this… You just have to be human.

And there is a big difference between human and “human”.

Love,

Sarag

Social Innovation Camp Caucasus

This 10-minute film on Social Innovation Camp Caucasus, which took place in Tbilisi, Georgia, from April 8 to 10, says it all: What an experience!

And for a more thorough article on Global Voices by Onnik Krikorian, click here.

Coincidences aren’t really coincidences.... or, Not really random encounters in Yerevan

Since I’ve quit my job, I’ve found that I’m busier now than I was when I was working full-time, believe it or not. And that’s a good thing! I’ve had a chance to meet amazing, creative people doing amazing, creative things — and with such a passion for life! People I might not have crossed paths with if I was still working at my former job.

It all started with my trip to Tbilisi for an intense couple of days at Social Innovation Camp Caucasus (and I know I promised to write more on that; it’s just that there’s been so much else going on... I"ll try to get back on that topic later).

Oh, and the fun didn’t stop there.

Only a few days ago, I had the opportunity to meet with Alexis Ohanian, co-founder of Reddit.com, and Drew Curtis, founder of Fark.com, at a bar in Yerevan (and drinks were on them!).

Drew’s in town only for a few days (a little over a week, if I’m not mistaken), while Alexis has been in Yerevan for about 3 months now. He’s here as a Kiva Fellow; in fact, he left Reddit.com in October of last year, but, like me, it seems, leaving his job hasn’t made him idle; in fact, he seems to have his hands full with a host of other projects.

Apart from his first ever trip to Armenia (he’s half-Armenian, half-German, by the way) and working with Kiva, Alexis has also been working on an uncorporation (I love that term) he founded called BreadPig.com, which creates and sells geeky products, donating all profits to charity (according to Alexis’ bio on the Kiva Fellows page).

Not only that, he’s the guy behind TEDx Yerevan, an independently organized TED event to be held in Armenia on September 25, 2010. How cool is that? (and for the TED connection, you should check out his TED talk on “How to make a splash in social media,” where, with a touch of humour and a well-chosen example, he demonstrates the power of social media in just four minutes).

The day after meeting Alexis and Drew, who do I run into randomly on the street but Tony Bowden of MySociety.org? Tony’s originally from Belfast, Northern Ireland, but he currently lives in Tallinn, Estonia (Margit, you have to connect with him: he’s on CouchSurfing and he organizes CS events in Tallinn. And one of these days, I’ll come visit you both! :)

I had the chance to meet Tony, the world-traveller, in Tbilisi where he was presenting at the Social Media for Social Change conference (happening in the same venue and at the same time as SI Camp Caucasus). I knew he was coming to Yerevan, but though we had connected online, we hadn’t yet arranged a Yerevan rendez-vous, and yet here he was! I’m sure he was just as surprised to see me (with bike and all) as I was to see him. We agreed to meet for drinks the following day.

It crossed my mind that maybe Alexis and Drew would like to meet Tony and maybe Tony would like to meet Alexis and Drew, so I tried to coordinate a get-together for Friday night. Alas, I didn’t have a number for Alexis (nor Drew) and Facebook and email were, for once, failing me. I sent a Facebook message to Tony to meet for drinks for his last night in Yerevan anyway.

I was to meet Tony at his hotel lobby on Friday night, but I was running a little late, and when I got there, he was nowhere in sight :( Luckily, my friend Anoush had connected with him and told me that we were to meet at Baobab (oddly enough, same venue where I first met Alexis and Drew only days before... coincidence? I think not).

Anoush and I agreed to meet at a specific intersection than walk over to Baobab. As I was on my way to meet Anoush, who do I run into but a brother of a friend of mine who’s been living in Armenia for over 3 years, but who I had not met till now? He was the spitting image of his brother and for a moment I thought it was him (Berj) but it turned out to be his brother Hratch. He didn’t know me, so I introduced myself and we talked a bit, while I searched for Anoush (at the same intersection, mind you).

As Hratch and I were walking along (and I was playing phone tag with Anoush), a man suddenly asks, “Adrineh?” and I say “Goga? What are you doing here?!” A friend of mine and my sister and brother-in-law’s, Georgy (or Goga, as we call him affectionately), originally from Armenia, was studying in Toronto when we met him a number of years ago. He then moved to Moscow where he currently lives. So you can imagine my surprise at “randomly” running into him on a street in Yerevan. Turns out he’s in town for 9 days, so I gave him my number and we agreed to connect.

All this, while I’m still walking with Hratch and then I see Anoush across the street. She comes over, Hratch takes his leave, I introduce Anoush to Goga. It’s a brief moment of many things going on at once, different people coming together, but though I’m a bit disoriented, I’m relishing the moment and the coincidences that aren’t really coincidences when you live in Armenia.

But, alas, the story continues.

We get to Baobab where I see a number of other familiar faces, mostly from SI Camp Caucasus. A pleasant surprise! As we’re sitting and talking with Tony et al., who happens to come to our table? If you haven’t figured it out by now, it was Alexis and Drew.

For all the organizing and coordinating I attempted to do over the past couple of days, the meeting I was planning happened beyond my control.

I couldn’t help but smile.

I quit my day job and went to SI Camp...

... and both decisions were probably the best things I’ve ever done in my life.

And the great thing is I’m still here.

Over 70 ideas submitted, only 6 selected, and only 40 participants (out of 150 that applied), Social Innovation Camp Caucasus, taking place from April 8–10 in Tbilisi, Georgia, is not a conference, not a bar camp, and most definitely not for the faint of heart.

A group of mainly youth, from Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia (with a few expats, mostly American, and one repat, me ;) working on ideas that address issues we find in our countries using social media tools.

For more on Social Innovation Camp, go here. To see the six ideas selected, go here.

I’m working on “No Problem!” with Karine Mkrtchyan, Ali Resh (Reshad) and Aleksey Chalabyan, a great idea submitted by Karine that seeks to uncover and report on all those problems which government officials say don’t exist and mainstream media don’t report on.

We’re mainly journalists in our group, but we’re lucky to have Aleksey, a whiz at Drupal, the content management system we’ve decided to use to execute our idea. Like with most of the other groups at SI Camp Caucasus, we were lacking a web designer (though Reshad graciously filled that role in the interim, providing wonderful ideas on layout and design).

At 8 pm last night, just before we left Cultural Center Muza to head back to our hotel, Nodar Davituri appeared like magic (recruited by Anna Keshelashvili, I think — thank you!) and announced that he would design our site. We gave him our sketch for the layout and explained the various elements. He said he would begin working on it at 10 pm (poor guy, I think he was running around and probably had his plate full, doing more than what most of us do on a Friday night ;)

I’ll have more to report on SI Camp Caucasus after it wraps up tonight. But I will mention one thing: getting a group of Azerbaijani, Armenian, Georgian youth together in one room is no easy task. We tend to stick with our own, with the people we came with. But I’m so happy to see that our 6 groups are mixed: there are Azerbaijani guys working on an idea envisioned by an Armenian woman that, initially anyway, focuses on an issue in Armenia. There’s an Armenian guy and girl working on an idea created by an Azerbaijani woman about an issue that she’s found in Azerbaijan (and for a website — or I should say, “online platform” — that will be in Azerbaijani). There’s a couple of American expats working on an idea submitted by a Georgian journalist. It’s a good mix of people.

And with a good mix of people, you can’t go wrong. Something amazing is bound to happen ;) More to come on that later.