Into the Caucasus

I've been in my new home of Baku, Azerbaijan for nearly 2 months now. And having arrived by land means that I've seen none of the rest of the country. So,recently, with a long weekend given by the government for a religious holiday, it was my chance to head out of town. The choice of where to go was easy. I headed into the northern region of Azerbaijan. The Caucasus Mountains.

It was a, relatively, early departure from Baku. I headed to the main bus station in town (20th of January station) to catch a bus to the city of Quba (the Q sounds like a G). The 165 km trip took about 3 1/2 hours and cost $5. The road leading there, hugs the seaside for the majority of the journey, but the scenery is less than spectacular. So i was reduced to attempted napping. After arrival into Quba, i checked into a nearby hotel, and headed into town for some exploring. With 22.000 inhabitants, Quba is a pleasant town. Quba is quite well preserved and still bears a lot of architectural marks left by the Russians. Besides numerous interesting facades, the town is famous for such architectural landmarks of the 19-th century, as the octagonal Juma-Mosque (Friday mosque), the Mosque of Sakine-Khanum, the Ardabil-Mosque (formerly a church!!), and the baths with their two domes. Life is slow. Chatting around a table, drinking tea is the main activity, like most small villages in the area. The people were generally friendly. However, there is no English, so any conversations had to happen in my very basic Russian. But I got by. While it's has a pretty setting in the foothills of the mountains, Quba doesn't really offer much. One thing of interest, though, is the Jewish settlement of Krasnaya Sloboda. It's on the northern bank of the gorge of the Kudyal river, just facing it's sibling city, Quba. This Jewish settlement of Quba has been inhabited by Jews since the 13th century. In 1742, a local ruler named Falikhan gave the Jews, who were being persecuted by Islamic fundamentalists, permission to settle on the left bank of the mountain river Kudiyal-Chay opposite his town. It's strange to walk around the village and have locals say the Hebrew "Shalom" instead of "Salaam". Everywhere there are the Star of David, and even a couple of working Synagogues. So i hiked up to the Jewish cemetery on the hill over looking the twin cities and watched the sunset. Quite romantic! The following day was ready to head to my actual destination. Having seen all that Quba had to offer, i headed to the local shared taxi rank to find one headed in my direction. In order to keep costs down, I waited around for a few more passengers to fill the car. My time occupied by, what else, drinking tea. After about an hour, we had enough people and we were off to the unravel the mysteries of the Caucasus.
The drive was certainly a pretty one. As the foothill change into full-blown mountains and ravines. While it was only a two hour (or less) drive, we still stopped fro an impromptu picnic. My driver and fellow passengers sharing local produce recently brought from the market in Quba. They enjoyed the cultural exchange almost as much as i did. Asking the typical order of question "Where are you from?" then, "how old are you?" followed by "Are you married?" finished with "Why not?!" in a surprised tone. As I'm used to these questions, we were able to laugh about marrying someones granddaughter. But I was glad to reach my destination, the mountain village of Xinaliq (title photo). The village is an ancient settlement, going back to the Caucasian Albanian period. Xinaliq is the highest, most remote and isolated village in Azerbaijan. So remote, in fact, that they have their own language which has no relation to Azeri or Russian. It was only recently that the government built a road here. The village is amazing. Perched on a hill, surrounded by peaks. The traditional homes are all still stone. Though there are now a few metal roofs, as the modern world makes it's way here. But life, for the time being remains simple. The majority of people are herders. Sheep, cows and goats make their way to the pastures in the morning, only to return by evening. Even after centuries of isolation, the people are remarkably open to visitor. There are no hotels, so the only place to stay is with a local family in a homestay. There is really not much to do but watch the people watch you. Wandering around the village, it is assured that you'll collect a group of curious children. I was, at first, surprised but the disproportionately high number of disabled children. Cross-eyes, and mild deformations seemed to be the norm. Although in retrospect, centuries of isolation means centuries of inbreeding. But it hasn't hurt their sense of hospitality. There are a few treks to do in the area. Most require a local guide due to new military operations in the area. But as i am not a trekker i was perfectly content climbing a small hill to watch the sunset. it seemed to be a theme on this trip. While the view and scenery are certainly enough of a reason to come, I planned the trip at this time to coincide with the holiday. Which turned out to be the highlight of the trip.
The holiday was a religious one. Qurban Bayram translates as Sacrifice Day. This holiday is connected with the Biblical prediction about the prophet Abraham (Ibragim), who wants to sacrifice his son Isaac (Ismail) to God. At the last moment God sends the archangel Gabriel (Jabrail) with a lamb and saves Abraham's son. To commemorate this day, each Muslim must sacrifice (gurban) a sheep or some other animal, while reading prayers and then distribute the meat among the poor. So, being the only foreigner in town, I was invited to one of the sacrifices. i was not able to actively participate as I am non-Muslim and therefore dirty. But they were all very open and welcomed my overzealous picture taking. While it is certainly not a ceremony for the faint of heart, it was great to see the whole community working together. From cow to steaks took less than an hour as everyone worked together like some well oiled machine. Nothing was wasted. They divide the meat into exact portions. Ensuring that everyone gets an equal amount. I was even Honoured with two bags of meat. Still steaming, and slightly dripping, in the cool mountain air. It would have been rude for me to decline. But what was i going to do with the meat? I still had to get back to Baku with 2 packs meat? So I offered my host family one of the packets of meat. They had sacrificed their own sheep. And of course he promptly gave me a package of mutton. Kind of defeating the purpose, but again i couldn't refuse. So with all the death and blood adequately photographed, I found transport to take me back to Quba, where I could transfer to a bus back to Baku. Feeling rather local with my two bags of freshly slaughtered livestock!!

Overall, the trip was a great one. Taking in beautiful scenery, meeting kind people with a little bit of culture & tradition thrown into the mix. A well rounded weekend if i do say so myself. Upon returning home I cooked up the gifted meat, being sure not to ingest any alcohol (as the meat was sacred). Pretty yummy i must admit!