Azerbaijan

Max and I are in the city of Quba, north of Baku and not too far away from the border with Russia. Quba is kind of a sad little city, but it's famous for providing the opportunity to go eat shashlyk at cafes in the middle of the forest. We're staying in a very strange old Soviet hotel with a disgusting shared bathroom and a shower that costs extra, but it's all very interesting nonetheless.

We came here for a few reasons. One was to find and talk to the community of Mountain Jews living in a town right accross the river from Quba. The other was to go up to the village of Xinaliq, touted by the Lonley Planet as one of the most beautiful places in Azerbaijan. We have accomplished both of these goals. The Mountain Jews were very interesting and friendly, and Xinaliq was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Tomorrow we're heading back to Baku.

Our time in Quba has been marked by nearly constant conversation and tea drinking with whomever we run into. People are exceptionally hospitable. Most of the time it's really lovely, and we've learned a lot.

We spent most of this morning going through the most horrendous negotiations I have ever experienced in order to secure a ride to Xinaliq in a timely and affordable manner. Amid the overwhelming chaos of the bazar from which taxis leave to Xinaliq, there was one moment that really brought me joy. I was standing around, eating a peach, waiting for our driver to find some more passengers, and a man walked by carrying two live chickens by the feet. He saw me looking at his chickens and said "do you need a chicken?" I said no and he kept going along his way. I thought this little scene was so funny I started laughing, but then a couple minutes later the chicken man was back. Again I was staring at the chickens, this time laughing, and he said "you really don't want one?" It seemed like a great way to sell chickens, just wandering around with them, holding them by their feet.

Anyway, I wish I had time to explain better or in a more decipherable manner what I'm up to. This trip is endlessly fascinating, no matter how sweaty we are by the end of the day.