After a couple of days of rain, the sun finally reappeared.

Due to work, I�ve been going to Stepanagert almost every day and though the ride is long, my Mercedes has made the ride much more enjoyable.

As Raffi mentioned in his log about him not being able to picture me driving a Mercedes in Artsakh, even I�m having problems getting use to it. I say this as my car does not really match my personality. This is a car that people here connect to power, mafia and corruption.

I�ve been told that my Mercedes brings back memories of some very nasty people of our past and a time when people were living in fear. I wont get into the history of my car and its former owner, but will say it was once owned and driven by one of those people that many feared and showed a great deal of �respect� for at the same time.

One thing that is apparent, people stop and look to see who is sitting behind the blackened windows of my car. I even had one guy in a car coming in the opposite direction of me, bring his car to a total stop in the middle of an intersection to look long and hard to see who was behind the wheel. I�m not sure if the look on his face was one of seeing who is driving his friends car or if he was looking to see if it was the former owner himself, who maybe he had a need to interact with.

I�m sure when people see my car, they remember the former Prime Minister Leonard Pedrosyan�s �$170,000� Mercedes 600SEL and assume this is one of those $100,000+ cars. Little do they know (though word is spreading) that this car cost me half the price of what a new Russian made Fiat costs.

One other observation. My Mercedes is the only one of its kind on the streets of Artsakh these days. It seems that even the President no longer drives around in his Mercedes. Maybe it uses too much gas or send out the wrong message.

I sent off Lena and Carlos this morning after a 2 days visit to my house. Though I was very busy and didn�t tour them around during the day, at night we had a blast eating, DRINKING and talking. I wont get into details of their trip and will let Lena fill you in on what they did.

My mom is scheduled to come to Artsakh for a visit in the next couple of days and since I resolved my transportation problems, I will go and pick her up from Yerevan.

After my last long of the sad story of my car and it�s retirement, I learned the next morning that my neighbor who is a commander at one of the military bases here in Martuni had sent in his Mercedes Benz automobile in for service to Stepanagert as I had made mention to him a couple of months ago that I was interested in purchasing it. He sent the car in for service the same day that I got the bad news about my car without knowing that I was in desperate need of a car ASAP.

So the car came back from Stepanagert on Saturday night at the same time when Lena called me to tell me that she and Carlos had arrived in Stepanagert. It was dinnertime so I told them to wait an hour and I would join them and took the Benz out for a nice long drive.

I have to tell you that for the last 4 years I have been driving around older Soviet made cars and really had forgotten how nice it is to drive a car that has comfort. I was in heaven and for the first time in a long time and really enjoyed the drive to Stepanagert (the old Benz does a great job of hiding potholes).

So back to my car and my winning the car lottery (as one of my neighbors put it).

My car is a 1988 Mercedes 500SEL, has leather everything, automatic transmission, moon-roof, new tires, nice ride and I don�t know what else your suppose to say to describe a car but I think you get the idea.

The one problem my car had was that 6 months ago it was sent to Yerevan to have some major work done on it and while it was there, the passport for the car was stolen. My neighbor who sold me the car did not report the loss until last week and the process is that you have to wait for 3 months so the report can be investigated and then they issue a new passport for the car. So being in that condition, my driving was restricted to Artsakh, as I know all the traffic cops and even if I was driving a stolen car, they would not stop me, but in Yerevan, I�m sure I would get dry mouth from talking my way out of getting my car impounded and though it is fun to do that, it can at times be not so fun.

So I was ready to wait for 3 month, but on Monday I decided to call the chief of all the traffic police in Artsakh who is originally from Martuni and years back made it a point to meet me and then told me that if there was anything I needed, to call. So on Monday I called and he told me to come in after 3 PM and talk to the people who take care of licensing to see if they could at least give me a temporary document so I could pay the yearly registration and drive to Yerevan to pick up my mom.

I called the commander and told him what I was up to and he told me to go see some guy named Gourgen as he is the one investigating the lost passport.

At 4 PM I dropped in to see Gourgen. I told him that I spoke with the chief and he asked me in a somewhat defensive tone �what does he have to do with this!!?� I told him that he really didn�t have anything to do with this and I just called him to ask what the process was since I know him and he referred me to see Gourgen.

Gourgen changed his tone and after giving him my family history and what I was doing here (I�m in the stone business), he told me to go see our chief of traffic police in Martuni to pay the registration, get a letter of some kind and then come see him and he will give me the temporary document I need to go to Yerevan.

This morning after sending off Lena and Carlos and sleeping for a couple hours, I went to see our chief of police and found out that he had gone to Stepanagert for some meeting. I called Gourgen and he told me not to worry, that our chief would be back soon and he has talked to him about what he needs to do. He said that he would wait for me and not to worry, that we would finish this process today so I could go to Yerevan in the morning.

I went to my factory to work with our engineer, welder and workers who are automating our equipment so we can increase our output by 500%. At the same time as they worked, I installed an alarm on my new car, one that I had purchased a couple of years back for my Fiat, but never go around to installing it.

I finished the installation and then drove to the police station to find that the chief of traffic police had not yet come back. I asked when he is due in and they said they had talked to him a couple of hours before and he should have been back already. I asked them to radio to him to see where he was. They did and he was out of radio range so they radioed Stepanagert who found him and learned that he was still in Stepanagert. The policeman that was relaying the information told me that it would have to wait until tomorrow.

I called Gourgen again, who I told that our chief was still in Stepanagert and asked him if we could do all the papers there? He agreed and told me to come right away.

In the meantime, the commander was suppose to get me his passport so we could write a request for Gourgen to do all the papers, but he had gone off to a meeting in Hadrut this morning and left his cell phone with his wife as their son was sick. So by the time I was able to contact the commander on his cell phone, I found he had taken his son to the hospital in Stepanagert and told me he would personally go see Gourgen to write the request before 5:30 PM.

I got to Stepanagert and on the way in, stopped at one of the police checkpoints to have them radio our chief of traffic police to come join Gourgen and I to do the papers. He instructed me to go see Gourgen and if he was needed to call him.

I went up to see Gourgen who is not part of the traffic police, but works with the ministry of internal affairs and deals with drivers licenses and license plates. He also has the same rank as the head of all traffic police in Artsakh and I guess that explains why he was defensive about me seeing the other chief since he does not answer to him.

Gourgen and I talked a bit about my work (the stone business) as he had his workers write a request from me of some kind and do some other paperwork. He said that we have to change the license plates and write some other request and so on. I really was not understanding what all the papers were since most of them were in Russian.

Then he had his assistant leave the room and close the door. He told me that it was late and to save me time so I didn�t have to go to the bank tomorrow, I could pay for all the registration fees to him and he would send someone to the bank tomorrow to deposit the money. I told him that I�m happy to hear he could do that for me as I really wont have time tomorrow. He asked me what size my engine is and I didn�t know what to answer. He determined that the engine was 125 horse power and for that I would have to pay 50,000 dram, but since it is an old car and 50,000 dram is just too much money, he will cut it in half. The license plates are 12,000 dram, the registration was something like 6,000 dram and the new passport is 12,000 dram, but he is going to give me 50% off on that too, just because he likes me. Then he called in some other guy who I think was suppose to check the car over to see if it was in safe driving condition or something and his fee was 28,000 dram. So in all, I paid $100 (which was 56,000) plus whatever the balance was in drams and the additional 28,000 dram to that other guy.

So I paid out everything and Gourgen asked me what license numbers I would like, as he had boxes full of them. I said I�m not a child and good looking numbers don�t mean anything to me so whatever he thinks would suit my car will be fine with me. He went to the back room and I could hear the sound of him shuffling tin and then Gourgen came out with my new license plates, which I wont tell you the number, but are so typical of what these mafia people always put on their cars. Lots of zeros and so on. I bet these are those special plates that all the traffic cops are instructed not to stop because the drive is some friend of someone important.

Gourgen sent me out to take off the old license plates of my car and put on his new chosen plates. I went out and barrowed some tools from the guy that was suppose to check my car that I paid 28,000 dram to (maybe the 28k was for rental of tools?). I put on the license plates and went back to Gourgen�s office. Gourgen then called down to the Stepanagert traffic police to have them write me up a 2002 sticker for my car. They said something and he said something like �I don�t care of you need a report from Martuni, write it anyway!!!�.

One of Gourgen�s assistance walks in to the office, had me sign some paper which was written in Russian and then hands Gourgen a passport. Gourgen signs and stamps it in 3 places and hands it to me and congratulates me on being the new registered owner of a new car. I asked him about the waiting for 3 months and so on and he said �why should we wait for 3 months, the people at the top told me to help you out and get this done quick.�

I told Gourgen that after I get my citizenship I�m going to need to apply for a drivers license and asked him if the test was in Russian or Armenian? He said for me it can be in any language I wanted. He said to get my citizenship first and he will take care of my Armenian drivers license. I think he made some mention of how I could turn in my California drivers license and he would issue me an Armenian one in its place.

Gourgen then had me follow him down to the Stepanagert police station, where they had ready my 2002 sticker. Gourgen added my new license plate number which he had memorized, handed me the sticker and sent me on my way.

With me was someone from Martuni who said you know they have a saying here that for very few people, �problem chee ga� (meaning �there are no problems�) and for the majority of the people �variant chee ga� (meaning �there is no chance�). So I guess I�m part of the few people today.

Not to drag out this log, but some of you are asking what did that 500SEL set Ara back. Well to answer that question, I went to visit Vartkes and Alice Anivian, who are from San Fransisco and own the milk factory in Stepanagert. I showed Alice my car and asked her how much she thinks I paid. She looked it over a bit and I asked her again. She said hang on, I�m not done. Looking it over and over and over and then saying that she would guess I paid $10,000 for it. I told her that maybe $10,000 was a fair price but I only paid 20% of that and of that 20% I paid half of it now and the other half is due next month.

Life here no longer seems to be like a roller coaster ride and is more like balloon ride with unlimited helium. If you haven�t figured it out, I�m really having fun now.

Well I have to get going, I have bed sheets to wash and the house to clean up a bit before leaving for Yerevan to get mom.

As Lena would say, Mama Manoogian has come for a visit. Yes, mom is in Yerevan and I went last Friday to see her.

Friday morning started out with a visit from an old woman who had been coming to my house for 4 days with no luck in finding me. I was told by my neighbors of this old women coming to my house and waiting for hours for me to come home. I knew well why she was coming around so I took the time to learn who she was and her whole life story prior to her seeing me that morning.

Her name is Rosa and she is 60ish. She works for the waterworks as a cleaning lady. Her husband who in a country where heavy drinking is considered normal is considered an alcoholic. He works for the trash collection service.

So that morning when Rosa knocked on my door and I answered, she started to complain as to why I had not been home for 4 days. She complained as to who I was giving aid to and how there was one person who was better off than her. She then went on to tell me of how she had lost 3 sons to the war and how difficult life was. When I sympathized to her condition and asked her about her son and daughter who were living and if they help her, she asked if I am denying her aid because he has children? She said she has only one daughter and no son (which is not true, she has a son who is a drug addict and has been in trouble with the law). Not that this should matter but, her 3 sons that she lost to the war, 2 of them were lost over 20 years ago while they were serving in the Russian army in Germany. The information I have is that the one that was lost in our war here died during the war, but due to a non-war related accident. So with that information in hand and Rosa�s version of what she wanted me to believe to be her condition was not something I wanted to hear that morning.

Though I felt sorry for Rosa, I explained that unfortunately it had been decided as to who was to receive aid and there was nothing I could do to change things so she could receive any.

She didn�t like my answer and wanted to know who decided as to who would get aid? I told her I decide. She asked who gave me the right to make those decisions? I didn�t even answer her and told her I was busy, ended the conversation and closed my door.

She walked off cursing me and complaining to the people (my neighbors) who she encountered on the street about how I help people who don�t need help and don�t help the people who do need help. She told them she was going to complain to the government about this.

At 10 AM, along with some friends, we headed in the direction of Yerevan.

In Stepanagert, I stopped in to see my friend Hagop, who is the reason for me getting into the granite tile business. He was returning to Australia on business and I had samples for him to take with him.

One of the samples was a very high quality green-blue granite tile, which we were able to cut 1/4" thick due to its hardness. Yes, Hagop was impressed and told me of a housing tracked that his son is building which will probably order 1,000 square meters of the green-blue granite.

I stopped in to have my cars electrical system worked on. My usual auto electrician Sasoon (I wrote about him in prior logs. The 14 year old kid whose father went to Russia to work and he had to drop out of school to work and take care of the family) was not in. He had gone out to have his father�s car fixed. In his place was his father, who had returned from Russia. Yes, Sasoon�s father has returned. I asked him if this means that Sasoon will return to school? He said that Sasoon does not want to go to school. He enjoys what he is doing. He asked me what kind of future his son will have? I told him it would be a good idea to get him back to school and then to the university as to what I�ve seen in his son, he has a great deal of potential and a more promising future if he gets a good education. He agreed but said that he is now the bread-winner in the family and he (the father) has plans on returning to Russia. He mentioned how proud he was of his son to know that he could take care of the family.

I finished with all my car repairs and after having lunch, we headed on to Yerevan.

In Goris, I was stopped by the police who asked me why my car registration was not current? I explained to them that I live in Artsakh and as far as I know I have until December to register my car (August is the deadline for registration in Armenia, but last year cars with Armenian plates in Artsakh had until December). They asked me where I was from and when they understood I was born in America, they let me go.

In Vike I was stopped by the police for the same reason. This time the traffic cop David I knew from years ago. He didn�t remember me but was convinced I knew him when I started to tell him his family history. He still didn�t remember me, but let me go since I knew so much about him.

We went to a village on the outskirts of Yerevan to the house the relatives of the people who came with me.

The next morning (September 21st, Armenian Independence day) we went to Yerevan to find my mother. We sat and talked for a couple of hours and agreed to meet at the Ani Hotel at 4 PM as there were some visitors that wanted to see me.

My friends and I went to the Bangladesh bazaar where last month I had purchased a cellular phone for my fish farm project, but the battery was not keeping its charge and the person who sold it gave me a one month guarantee. So I went to exchange it for a newer model that would keep its charge. My friends told me that there was no way they would take the phone back. I found the guy who sold me the phone and after a 10 minute talk on the meaning of what his life could be like if he didn�t make good on his guarantee, he exchanged the phone. My friends were quite impressed in my methods of diplomacy.

My 4 PM visit at the Ani Hotel had great results. My conversation with one person turned into a group discussion with quite a few influential and active Diaspora-Armenians. I not only found a possible client for granite tiles, but also $250 in donations for the sponsorship program and the possibility of more donations.

One woman who is involved in a project that provides aid in the amount of $250 a year per family agreed after our conversation that no one person let alone a family could live off of $250 a year and my $600 a year amount made more sense. Another woman said she heard of a program that you can sponsor someone for $200 a year, but after our conversation agreed that every little bit helps, but to claim that someone could live off of $200 a year is harmful in many ways.

Being that it was Armenian Independence day, we went to Yeraplur (this is a cemetery where Armenian freedom fighters are laid to rest). We took flowers to the graves of people we knew. One of the people with us took a look around and made an interesting observation. She said that Monte Melkonian�s grave had only a few common flowers when we got there. Vasken Sarkisian�s grave had a large arrangement which had the names of the people it was from who were the presidents and ministers of Armenia and Artsakh. She said that Monte did no less for Artsakh than did Vasken, so why was there not similar flowers from them on his grave? One other thing she pointed out was that Vasken and Antranig Pasha are side by side and Vasken�s rank in the military is higher than Antranig Pasha�s. What a joke.

We left Yeraplur and I got stopped again by the police. This time a moving violation. It seems that I made a lane change in the intersection (which I did). Okay, this time I was wrong. The cop walks up to my car and asks me in a very rude tone why I broke the law? I told him to begin with, change your tone of voice and talk to me in a normal way. He said he was talking loud so I could hear him. I said I was not deaf and could hear him fine. He said he was going to write me a ticket. I said fine. He had me get out of the car and walked to his car. One of the cops that was with him I recognized as a cop I had harassed in the past. That cop mumbled something to the rude cop, who immediately smiled to me, handed back my documents and walked away.

On the 22nd, we went to Water World since they had advertised on TV that the Water World season was ending and the entrance fee was now 1,000 dram. We got to water world to find that the entrance fee was 2,000 dram and 1,000 dram was for their last day which was the 23rd. No big deal, we paid and spent the day at Water World.

At night, we went to the government square where there was a concert. We ran into Madlene and Arthur. Madlene looked great!!! She had flowers in her hair and told me about how it was for Arthur�s video. I took a picture of them, which I have to send to her which maybe she will post so you can see for your self how good she looked.

On the 23rd we went to Yerevan so I could have my car worked on. I needed to have the frame adjusted so I could have the front wheels aligned.

On the way I was stopped again by the police. This time it was the check-point where a few years back I was called in to see the chief of the traffic police. I knew they had stopped me for my registration being expired. This time not only did the cop notice that my registration was expired, but he also noticed my international drivers license had long ago expired.

Talking to this cop was of no use and he said they were going to impound my car. They called me over to talk to his commander who told me that this year I don�t have until December to register, that was only for last year. I told him I didn�t know that and assumed it was the same this year. He said that it made no difference since my license was expired he could not let me drive. I told him that I had no way of renewing my license without going out of the country to do it or I would.

He asked me what I do here and I told him I�m a auditor and monitor the government. I then went on to explain that I had applied for citizenship in Artsakh and if I received it when I was suppose to, I would have a local drivers license and we would not be having this conversation. He said he didn�t understand, if I�m a member of government why could my friends not get me all the documents I need? I told him he didn�t understand me, I�m not a member of government, I monitor the government and document what they do and how much they stuff in their pockets. He and the other cop looked to each other, one winking to the other and saying that it all makes sense why they don�t give me citizenship. He asked me when it was going to get better for them and I said when our government understands that you have to pay people real wages so they don�t have to look other places to supplement their income. He told me that by law he is not suppose to let me drive, but seeing that it�s not my fault for not having a valid license he will let me go.

I went to the mechanic, who gave me the bad news of it costing $200 and 2 days to fix my car. No thanks I said. My car I paid $300 for, spent $300 to fix up and I know there comes a time that a car is just too tired to continue on. So I decided that it was time for my 1972 Fiat to retire.

I went to see Madlene, who I knew had been looking for a car so I figured she could advise me on where to look for a car. Madlene put me on the phone with David who told me he would call around. I then went off to Armenian TV where I was told they advertise cars. I asked them what they have available and told them my limit of $2k for a non-soviet/Russian car. The woman said we have nothing less than $3,500. No can do. All my friends in Martuni are paying $1,500 for a good condition German made car and they get them in Armenian. I had no luck in finding anything.

That evening we went to Paplovak for Sushi which was great!!! They have added some stuff to the menu which includes raw fish (we are now dealing with real Sushi here).

Since my car was too dangerous to drive according to the mechanic, I called the Tuesday mini van that goes direct to Martuni to see if there was room. Yes there was room for all 5 of us. We agreed on a time and place.

We returned to the village and not 5 minutes of the news of me retiring my car did a villager come to see me about buying the car.

Ara: What will you give?
Villager: I don�t need the whole car.
Ara: Well what do you need?
Villager: Well if you take out the transmission and engine, but leave the alternator, battery and carburetor, I�ll take all that�s left.
Ara: Well how much is all that�s left wroth?
Villager: Well how much did you pay for the car?
Ara: $300 and I paid $300 to fix it up.
Villager: The transmission is worth $300 and the engine you can�t get more than $100. The front tires are worn out from the alignment problem.
Ara: But the steering wheel is from my Niva and was $60 at the time and the windshield was replaced last year and cost 25,000 dram.
Villager: Well they sell windshields for $10 now and the steering wheel for $10.
Ara: So how much will you give me?
Villager: How about $100?
Ara: Well I can�t give you any answer right now but will let you know.
Villager: When will that be?
Ara: After I talk to the people in Martuni to see how they advise me.

After that encounter and the low value of cars in that village, we decided to call the Martuni van back, cancel our reservation and drive my car back, ignoring the advice of the mechanic, who told me the front tires could fall off at anytime.

Well needless to say, I made it back to Martuni and though there is not much left to the front tires of my car, I think that if the road was open, I could have driven all the way to Baku.

I got stopped by cops on the way back a couple of times for the registration, but they let me go without any real resistance.

When I got home and opened the gate to park my car, this really good feeling came over me, the feeling one gets from going someplace and then coming to the safety of ones home. Not to say that Yerevan is not a good place, but it�s not home for me. This is my home and I get the feeling will be so for many years if not generations to come.

A couple of days ago the money arrived for the sponsorship program we have started.

I took some time away from work and went to the bank to deal with transferring money from the foundation�s account to each individual recipient�s account. I deducted 1% from the $50 per person plus 1000 dram for the initial fee to set-up the recipient�s accounts. Each person this month received $47.75.

The next day, I returned to the bank as I added a sponsor, who wrote me to tell me that he had sent $600 to the foundation, so I went ahead and added our 13th person using the money in the foundation�s account I have for the recipients for the next 5 months.

While I was there filling out the papers for the 13th recipient, I could hear one of our 12 recipients in the other room who didn�t know I was in the other room asking where this money had come from? They gave my name and the old woman began to cry and thanked God for giving me life and wishing me a long life. She went on a bit telling the bank worker about how this wont bring back her son, but maybe the world is not such a horrible place and there really are people who care.

As we were filling out the papers another old woman walked in to the room we were in. She was probably 85 years old and walked with a very rustic looking handmade cane. I asked the woman who was filling out the papers for me if this was one of our people? She said yes. The bank woman asked the old woman if she brought her passport with her? She said no, she forgot it at home. She said that she could only give her the money if she had her passport and the old woman (who only lives across the street) asked if she could bring it later? The bank woman said no and asked her if there was a child at home that could bring it over? Now even I would not have asked that question to this old woman as I know almost every woman on our list had lost their children in the war. The old woman looked to the bank woman with tears in her eyes and said �No, their all gone, I have no one.� She walked out of the bank crying. I didn�t say anything to the bank woman, but I could tell from the look on her face that she knew she made a big mistake saying what she said. I commented to the bank woman that today you will be hearing a lot of crying.

The bank lady informed me that since this is aid that we are distributing, they are not going to deduct the 1% transfer fee, meaning that the recipients are to get 100% of what is intended for them. Also, the foundation is covering any wire-transfer fee that they may be subject to. Next month, I�ll give each recipient an additional amount that reflects what I deducted for bank fees that the bank did not charge.

I�m going to go to the bank next week to see about parking the foundation�s money that is intended for the recipients in interest bearing accounts that mature in time for distribution. This way we can maybe in time have enough to add another person or help out someone with a onetime gift or something.

I�m getting the expected fall out from the �church lady� types of how I went about selecting people. Everyone wants to receive this aid and one person is worse off then the other. One woman, I think she is �the church lady� herself even had the nerve to ask someone who this Ara person is to have the right to decide who is going to get help. One person said that I should just ignore it and to remember that it is impossible to select the wrong person as everyone today is in need.

I have been so busy this last week that there has been no time to log. I guess this is the way things are going to be in the future, one log a week (if that).

So what is Ara so busy with now that he has no time for logging.

Now that I have been here for 4 years as a student of economics, human nature and politics, I�m finally graduating.

My days of dabbling in small business ventures is coming to an end and I�m moving on to the next level of medium size business.

For the last year I�m been planning to open a fish-farm and this week I got it off the ground. Though I like fish and think it potentially could be a good business, this one is my experiment on seeing how people work together and how motivated they will be when they have a share in the business. Though everything is in my name, I�m running it like a collective. We are a total of 6 equal members. Everyone has voting powers, though in the event of a tie, everyone has agreed that I will have an additional vote.

The second business I fell into and I know is going to be a smashing success is the stone business.

For the last 3 or 4 months I�ve been working with one of the Armenian-Australian owners of the Narir Hotel in Stepanagert, Hagop, to find a source of granite floor and wall tile. Our efforts have come up with nothing, as the locals who run or own the stone processing factories in Stepanagert have told us that with their equipment they are not able to make what we want. Their big hang up is that we want the tiles to be � inch think and they are claiming that the thinnest they could make was 1 inch.

I had it in my head that what I wanted was possible to do, since the Italian�s make such granite tiles, but was convinced by the locals that we just didn�t have the technology in Artsakh to make such tiles.

Exactly nine days ago, the Mayor�s youngest daughter was craving corn. The Mayor gave me a call and asked me if I could drive him to a plantation on the outskirts of Martuni to buy fresh corn. I agreed, picked him up and drove to the plantation.

As the Mayor was talking to the owner of the plantation, I noticed a small factory on the edge of the plantation which had marble and granite stones littered around it. As the Mayor took care of his business, I walked over to the factory.

The owner was there that day working on making a grave-stone. As he worked, we talked stone. He was from Baku, escaped to Martuni and built this small factory. He has 30+ years experience and it turns out had worked on the statue of Monte Melkonian and also the spring near Spitagashen that was built in Monte�s memory.

I asked the master if it was possible to make granite tiles � inch thick and he said that during the days of the Soviet Union, they didn�t do such things since there was such a surplus of stone that there was no need. He said that it is a little more difficult to make such tiles but didn�t see why we could not try.

He went on to tell me that he had moved to Russia and was back in Martuni for the last time to sell his house and business, as he had left Artsakh due to a lack of economic opportunities for him and his children and has started a new life there. He told me that he had a buyer from Armenia for his factory and they were to call him in the next couple of days to finalizes the deal so the buyer could come a disassemble to factory and take the equipment to Armenia and from there, who knows where. He said that if I was interested in buying the factory from him, he would tell the buyer that he has already sold it.

I told him that if he could make me a sample and if my friend from Australia likes what he sees and gives me an order, I will buy his factory.

The next day we worked almost all day to come up with something that I was satisfied with.

The following day, we drove to Stepanagert to visit with Hagop and see if he was interested in what we could offer him. It would be an understatement to say that Hagop liked what we made, because he didn�t. He loved what we made and if it was not me, he would have thought that we went out and purchased Italian granite and claim it as our own. He looked it over and over, checked to see if the thickness what consistent and wanted to know our secret of how we were able to have perfectly smooth edges? To tell you the truth, I thought that all tiles had smooth edges, but Hagop said that every sample he has received from here has never had as smooth an edge as our tile did.

As we were talking, Hagop got a call on his cell phone from the President. �Yes Mr. President. I don�t remember why I called you and am in a meeting with Ara Manoogian, you know, the American-Armenian that lives in Martuni�� He went on to tell the President that we are working together to manufacture and export granite tiles to Australia.

Hagop gave me an order for 100 square meters of tile and when I finish that, he will give an order for all the bath, halls and other areas of the new wing of his hotel and then our first container order will follow that to be shipped to Australia.

I�m not even going to get into how many people will be working for us, but will say that this is a real income generating business that can pay real wages and potentially employ lots of people.

Well my late lunch break is over and I have to get back down to the factory to wait for our first truckload of granite to be delivered.

A quick note. I got an e-mail yesterday from someone who is going to be a sponsor of at least one person or family. My goal of 100 people is now up to 12 or more.

If war broke out, would we be ready? I�ve been asked that question so many times and I keep telling people if it happens, then we will deal with it and see what happens.

Not to frighten anyone, but today I was able to see for myself if war broke out what would happen. I say this as today war broke out and everyone under the age of 45 was called to report to their assigned base. Since I�m not yet a citizen, I just watched as everyone was rushed off to their respective bases to be armed.

I was very impressed as the readiness of our army and if today was not a surprise drill (which we randomly have once or twice a year to test our readyness), Azerbaijan would have been hurting for sure.

The guns I saw rolling out today, I certainly didn�t see during the early 1990�s. Besides all the tanks, there were some very big and impressive cannons, rockets and other neat toys that are made to inflict damage to our enemy. I guess all that equipment, combined with the discipline our army possesses today is what makes it the second most powerful internationally recognized army in the region (though I would guess it really is the most powerful if you count the size and small territory it needs to defend, but it would be politically incorrect for Washington to give us first place).

I can now say to all of you who have asked in the past about if war broke out that yes, if war did break out we would be ready and for that reason, I don�t think war will break out.

A couple of days ago my visitors from Jerusalem returned to Yerevan. They arrived at 5:30 AM and after a four-hour nap, we headed out to tour a couple of churches.

Our first stop was Gandzasar. I had been to Gandzasar a couple of months ago with a group of students from California, but really didn�t go inside or look around. This time one of my visitors was Fr. Isahag, thus this made the visit more official. We found Der Hovanness who met with us and gave us a tour of the church. Incredible what they have done to restore Gandzasar. The tour by Der Hovanness was also very interesting and though I had been to Gandzasar half a dozen times, this was the first tour I had been on with Der Hovanness who showed us all the ins and outs. It was very enjoyable.

For those of you who don�t know the story of Gandzasar in relation to the war, it was the church that was attacked from all sides and when the people felt that they were going to loose to the invading Turks, started to flee. The story goes that they only returned because the Der Hyr of the church, Der Hovanness, refused to give up, picked up an AK-47 and alone began fighting the Turks. The people seeing that Der Hovanness was ready to fight to the death, felt shameful and returned to fight along side this very brave spiritual leader. Though they lost someone to shelling during that defense, they were able to hold off the Turks until reinforcements were able to come in and drive the attackers away.

We finished our visit with a meal of homegrown everything and discussed his work and the condition of the church. He told us that the seminary they are building will be ready by September of next year. Der Hovanness is not only the spiritual leader for Gandzasar, but also supervising construction and making sure that the grounds are kept in order and the road receives the needed repairs so visitors can visit year round.

I asked him how they finance the church, knowing well that they are a financially poor church. He said that they do it somehow with the help of God and an occasional visitor who gives a gift. He said that the biggest problem right now is the road that needs to be repaired every couple of days in the way of grading and filling holes with gravel. The cost of such a job is around $100 each time. If they had asphalt, it would take care of most of their road problems. I know that when I was last in the states a couple of years ago, there was a group of families from Glendale that were talking about financing that road and when I asked him if they ever contacted him or the diocese, he said he had not heard anything. I guess I�ll have to drop Der Arshag who is the Der Hyr at St. James in L.A. an e-mail and have him contact those people to see if they are still interested.

From Gandzasar, we drove to Dadivank in the Martakert region. Again, an incredible place and one that is really shaping up. They are in the process if restoring it and doing a great job.

We got back to Martuni really late and after a meal at the Mayor�s house, went home and crashed.

The next day my visitors left for Goris to go visit Armen Sinanian, the Stolebearer who was shot and almost killed by an Israeli exploding bullet (the kind that are internationally illegal to use) in the Church of the Nativity standoff last April. He is in Goris I guess visiting family and is planning on returning to Jerusalem soon to continue his work.

If your wondering why I have not been logging as often or answer my e-mails as quick as I use to, it�s because ARMENIAN HISTORY HAS REPEATED ITSELF IN ARTSAKH.

At the Diaspora conference I made contact with an investment group who are interested in working with me to develop the information technology (IT) field here in Artsakh.

We feel that being a land-locked country, the best suited industry is IT. It has no boarders and can employ many people with decent paying jobs.

I�ve been working for the last few months to find out about getting us a license to set up a high-speed two-way satellite connection and have recently learned that as of Friday, it would be of no use to apply for such a license as we would only get the run around and empty promises.

Mediamax�s article dated 13 Feb 2002 reads: �According to Nagorno Karabakh Prime Minister Arnold Abrahamian, by decision of the Karabakh Government, `Karabakh Telecom` has been issued a license for telecommunication activities for a period of 30 years and has also been deprived of the right to monopoly in this sphere.�

Though the article is inaccurate as to Arnold Abrahamian being the Prime Minister, which he is not (he is the former Minister of Economy and presently an advisor to the Prime Minister), it clearly sates that `Karabakh Telecom` has no monopoly. The President himself has even stated this, assuring us that we would not make the same mistake as Armenia did with ArmenTel.

During my investigating licensing, I found out that the closed joint-stock company `Karabagh-Telecom`, which functions under the aegis of the famous Lebanese company TMF, has been issued a license by the Minister of Economy which has a condition that restricts the NKR government from issuing any other telecommunication licenses, thus creating a monopoly. Yes, history has repeated itself and yes, as of today, TMF has a monopoly on telecommunication in Artsakh just like ArmenTel does in Armenia.

We presently have two internet providers in Artsakh who were the pioneers to bring internet to Artsakh. They have to renew their licenses within the next 10 months, but have so far have been given the run around by the government. My provider has told me during one of my complaint calls about the service being down again that I should go talk to the President and tell him to get his act together and correct this major mistake so my provider can give me reliable service with a satellite connection instead of being dependent on ArmenTel�s unreliable connection.

I guess the two-hour meeting I need to have with the President to discuss issues is going to take a little longer than what I had planned.

A few months ago, I registered Punik Publishing here in Artsakh.

Punik Publishing's mission is to translate to English, French and Russian, out of print and hard to find books that we believe have value and significance to the reader as to help better understand the situation we find ourselves in today.

Punik Publishing is proud to announce the release of what we believe is the most relevant historic writing on the present day Artsakh conflict.

Shahan Natalie's Turkism from Angora to Baku and The Turks and Us were originally published in Armenian as separate volumes in 1928. The present English translation is intended to give today's reader, in one volume and with augmented notes, an insightful analysis of the neighboring Turkic governments' true national interests and desires at the time of writing. It is a forceful and timely reminder that, although the Turkish leaders profess to have changed their posture over the last century, their relentless aim and systematic program to deny the actions of their predecessors, to discredit their victims' claims, and to rid themselves once and for all their "Armenian Problem" has remained the same.

With the conflict in the historic and present-day Armenian territory of Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabagh) and the ongoing negotiations for a settlement with Azerbaijan, it is even more imperative for the Armenian people as a whole to understand the consequences of compromise when it comes time to truly talk peace at the negotiating table.

As the government representatives of Armenia and Turkey seek reconciliation, with the aim of normalizing relations and developing much needed mutual economic ties, it would seem that Armenia is once again playing the na�ve pawn to world powers, who, in the interest of their own gains, are encouraging the minority nation of the Southern Caucasus to dismiss her past and look only to the future, while dangerously ignoring the warning that history forgotten will always repeat itself.

For those of you wondering who is Shahan Natalie, it remains for you to read the introduction to The Turks and Us and find out the significant role he played in shaping 20th century Armenian history.

Copies of The Turks and Us can be obtained at http://www.abrilbooks.com/. Books stores can obtain multiple copies by e-mailing thetursandus@snff.org.

Here is the translation of Rosa Myrig's letter to her sponsor that I thought may inspire some of you to get involved:

Artsakh, City of Martuni
R. Martirosyan St, No. 5
Hrand Arseni Dadanyan
Roza Sergeyi Dadanyan

We, two spouses, together with our three sons, relocated to our birthplace Karabagh from Baku on December 26 1988.

Our three sons:
Artur Hranti Dadanyan was born on 15 June 1960
Yuri Hranti Dadanyan was born on 2 June 1962
Armen Hranti Dadanyan was born on 19 June 1971

How good it was, how happy we felt to be saved from the Turks and come here. The reason for our moving was the well-known Karabagh movement. Our sons said, "Let's go." Our happy days of protecting the land of Karabagh did not last long. Day by day the situation worsened, the horrific war began during which our three sons were killed also - Arthur and Yuri on the same day, 2 March 1991; and Armen on 23 July 1992.

What we have endured for eleven years only the father of those three knows, and also God, and my three children when I join them. I suffered greatly, lost my health, my mind was disturbed by memories; but somehow restraining myself, focusing myself, I dealt with it all. Why? Because my Arthur was married. He has one son, Ruslan, and one daughter Elina (who is afflicted with epilepsy). We are pensioners. It is clear that we have financial difficulty, but somehow we take it in stride. What can we do? To whom shall we apply so that the situation changes? And so restrained, humble, respectful and accommodating, we count the days - when we will die and how.

Our black fate would have strangled us completely were there not on earth caring, concerned, patriotic, Armenian-loving hereic boys, such as the dear, esteemed JD. On 8 August 2002 I went to my sons' cemetery (which I do every day). When I came home, my blood pressure was elevated and I went to bed, when the telephone rang. "Roza Myrig, take your identification and come to the bank." I said, "I can't today. I'll come tomorrow." And I did that; I went there - if it is not shameful, I can say that like a surprise they presented me with $1,000. Until today I have not emerged from my emotions and feelings. I think I am in a dream. But at the same time I am proud that my sons have accomplished their purpose, to protect their native land, but they did not reach the rest of their desires. And I, their mother, am bearing all of that alone. I do not wish this dreadful fortune on anyone. Once again we express our profound thanks to JD, that dear, esteemed person who cared about us.

At the same time, I very much ask and await your brief letter with all the details, your address, your profession, about your family. I would like to correspond with you so we can get acquainted. If it is possible, your visit here with us, and I will host you however I am able.

I await your letter, and kiss you and all the members of your family.
Please write, we are waiting.
Hrant Arseni and Roza Sergeyi Dadanyan
Karabagh, Martuni City

Please forgive my health condition. I was going to write to you sooner. Please forgive me. 19 August 2002


Her sponsor wrote back:

[snip]

About one month ago, I read on the internet Ara's letter concerning you, your husband and your sons. I was shocked that no helping hand had been extended by the diaspora to you and your husband. I was embarrassed by our lack of compassion and generosity. You have given everything to keep the land Armenian, an accomplishment for which all who call themselves Armenian are proud, yet we do not seek the honor of protecting you or your husband from the consequences of war. For this I am truly ashamed. You ask my forgiveness for sending a letter "late"; I seek yours for not sending help for 11 years.

[snip]