Today this area is home to 13,000 internally displaced people (IDPs), and the seat of the Lachin (in exile) provincial government representative. Over the last 20 years these people have formed themselves into 50 smaller communities that are spread out throughout the area. Arriving to nothing but barren deserted land, they built mud houses and began to farm cattle again - always with the hope that soon they would go home.
As I spoke with the Lachin "Governor in exile" (my title) and other members of the community, they all spoke of their hope that soon the political stalemate would be settled and they would go home. In the next week (or so) the President is coming to open 552 new homes that have been built for the IDPs. The Governor is extremely grateful for the government initiative, "but" he says, "a house is not enough. The people need good schools, health facilities, agriculture training and jobs." But as he says this, he presents me with a book showing off the beauty of Lachin and invites me to visit him in his homeland - when they return.
It has been raining for the last few days, and it is starting to get cold. The ground is muddy, large areas of stagnant water separate the 'roads' from the houses, children are playing in the mud and the water because there is nowhere else. The houses are mostly mud brick with grass roofs. In seeming incongruity, next to many of them is a satellite television receiver and when I ask about this I'm told, "the local television is boring!"
Despite the obvious hardships, these out of the way, and often forgotten people are hopeful, generous and smiling. "What choice do I have," says one woman, "it's either commit suicide or do your best to survive and be happy!"
And I was just about to complain about the bone jarring, death defying, teeth rattling, white knuckle, headache inducing drive to visit the area. I decided to shut up!
