Three Worlds

“There are three worlds: the one you want to live in, the one that’s good for you, and the one you actually live in.”

***

Even though I did refer to women’s stories in some of my posts I have never actually written about gender issues. Maybe because I have never been interested in this topic enough to write.

I have never divided people by gender, race or nationality. I’m more cynical. For me people are either meaningful or meaningless. Regardless if they’re men or women.

My one and only place of work – Foundation A, where I spent two years of my life and changed in so many ways, I will not be able to count – was not only perfect because of the work I got to do and the people I got to meet, but also because of one person there – my boss.

Besides actually teaching me how to do my work he was also a close friend, someone I could tell about my problems, concerns, and fears. After one of such conversations he told me something I keep in my mind ever since: “You have two options in your life: (1) To become your mom; (2) To become yourself”. And I knew exactly what he meant by that.

***

D. is an absolutely amazing person. Because of her capacity, attitude and natural networking skills, she can make friends with literally anyone. She was a popular kid at the university. She would travel around the USSR and meet people everywhere she would go.

She got married at 26, which is considered pretty late for an Azeri girl even today. Her husband was 12 years older. Right after the wedding she had to quit her job, since the husband wanted her to stay home with the kids. She did not mind – it was the right thing to do.

Two kids and several years later her husband lost his job due to an unstable situation in the country and principles he could not break. He went abroad to earn money. She stayed.

She was 42 when she found her first job after a 15-year break. She changed several places of work and positions in six years. She worked in a bank, insurance company, concrete factory and perfume company. She learned how to use a computer and had to overcome all kinds of difficulties coming her way. And every day she would come home to the apartment that was not actually hers, to see her two teenage kids, an empty fridge and think what to do next.

When her husband came back after two years of absence and unsuccessful attempts to do something he was not meant to, in order to earn for his family, she had a good job and at least some confidence about the future. Several months later he received a good proposal and everything went back to normal. And of course, he asked her to quit the job again. She did.

Today, her life is mostly about her family, online friends and going out to karaoke or dinners with friends on weekends. And the huge potential she still has is lost somewhere in the labyrinths of everyday routine. Nothing more, nothing less.

She’s happy. Or at least seems so.

She is the one I take my inner freedom from and the reason for my commitment issues.

She’s my mom.

***

I have never divided people by race, nationality and especially gender. Simply because some examples around me clearly show that both men and women can be equally strong or weak, special or ordinary, meaningful or meaningless.

I am lucky enough to have a non-traditional Azerbaijani brother, who has always respected my right for privacy and would never interfere in my life. I grew up in a family that tried to understand me even when it was a difficult thing for them to do. I would also meet people who would try to take “me” from me and I had to lose parts of myself again and again.

But lucky as I am, I woke up before it was too late. I brought myself back together, realized who I am and chose my path, full of new territories, right and wrong decisions, different people and self-analysis. I am trying to be meaningful.

I’m neither woman, nor man here.

I’m me.

And no one can take this away anymore.

***

There are three worlds: the one you want to live in, the one that’s good for you, and the one you actually live in.

Choose one.

Written for www.women-forum.net

Fallen

One of the episodes of my favorite TV show starts with a line: “Responsibility really does suck”.

True.

Along with the excitement of growing old enough to drink, drive a car, stay out late and travel alone, we also receive a whole set of responsibilities.

And no one comforts us, patting on the back, telling us what’s right or wrong anymore.

We start making mistakes. We learn how to lie and pretend. We regret.

And even the best of us leave the straight and narrow once in a while.

This process is non-reversible. The older we are, the more responsibilities we get, the more mistakes we make.

We try to solve them, we deal with the guilt, we hide from ourselves or face the consequences courageously.

But the mistakes we made... they never fade away.

***

Today I read a very interesting article written by a famous Russian journalist Yuliya Latinina. She talks about two recent incidents giving them as very simple examples of the general situation:

First one happened in Sweden when the local SWAT mistakened the house they were supposed to attack during the training and broke into some guy’s home. The person received apologies and full compensation immediately.

Second story happened in Russia. On January 2007 during the anti-terroristic operation Russian police accidentally broke into the neighbor’s house and shot him in the back. The court pled the guy guilty in attacking the police and proved him a criminal.

Besides the interesting facts and rough analysis of the current political situation in Russia, there also was one line that dragged my attention the most: “It’s not about the mistakes we make, it’s about the way we deal with them.”

No, we don’t live in wealthy, almost non-problematic Sweden, which can afford more than a full compensation to one citizen.

We live in a small “oil-rich country” situated in a problematic region with a full set of difficulties.

But we can afford admitting our mistakes and at least trying to solve the embarrassing issues. We can try to deal with the things we cause.

Everyday we receive news from all around the country – Transport Ministry representatives beat up some truck driver and now he’s facing detention period while his 12-year-old son goes on hunger strike**; a pensioner wrote a letter to the President and was placed to the mental hospital; Azerbaijan population will have problems with domestic gas this year; 4 months have passed since Emin’s and Adnan’s arrest.

We talk about it, blame the system, curse the Government. We write articles, blogposts, facebook statuses. We discuss it over and over again with everyone we meet.

But what does the Government say? How do the people who actually cause these problems react?

They pretend.

Pretend as if nothing happened, as if they don’t carry any responsibility for anything that takes place in the country. They close their eyes thinking they become invisible doing this. They play with people’s lives. They act as if life is only a chess board. They live as if they’re eternal.

They act as if they’re waiting for someone to comfort, pat them on the back and tell them what’s right or wrong.

But there’s no one left to do that. Too much damage is done.

There are only mistakes and responsibilities.

That will never fade away.

**The next morning after this post was written the truck driver was charged 3 years of detention and released on probation.

Education&Freedom

Couple of months ago I got into a correspondence with a very young but already impressively different girl who won my heart with the first letter she sent.

I know, you’ll say it’s impossible to get to know a person via internet, but read till the end and you’ll understand.



She told me about her life – how she was born in a poor family and actually nailed a right to study in a good private school by winning the competition. Her education wouldn’t allow her think badly of her Government – “Our country is rapidly developing and we have to be proud”, they would say. And she would believe until she faced first signs of free speech violation inside her own school.

No, she’s very grateful for everything they did for her. She understands that they were too scared to lose good jobs and probably were trying to believe in these things themselves.

But she doesn’t. She can see what’s going on around her, but can’t speak up.

Because after graduating the school she decided to apply for Government program which provides scholarships for Azerbaijani students who want to study abroad.

And this is another challenge she had to go through.

On the interview in the Ministry of Education she had to answer questions like: “When was YAP (ruling party) founded?”, “By whom?”, “Who’s the head of it now?”.

“What ruling system is there in Japan?”, she was asked.

“Monarchy”, she answered.

“Why wouldn’t they change it?”, was the next question.

“…????...”.

Somehow, she passed.

The University she got accepted to required the payment to be transfered till August 31st. However, the deadline was getting closer but Ministy of Education wouldn't react in any way. Eventually she called there to say that the University warned her that if the tuition is not paid till the deadline - she and other guys from this program will be expelled.

The response of the ministry representative was: "Tell this University not to put demands on the Government of Azerbaijan".

The problem was solved two hours before the deadline and after several requests from the parents.

Right now she’s there, in one of the best European universities, discovering different world, starting a new life, passionately promoting her country she loves so much and… trying to find money to survive and pay for her books, accommodation, food. Why? Because it’s been more than a month since our government was supposed to send her (and other Azerbaijani students in her university) scholarship, but there’s still nothing on her bank account.

How does she survive? Fortunately, some Azerbaijani and Turkish families living there help kids coming from Azerbaijan.

“It’s ok now, I’m already used to living without a cell phone and sharing books with my roommate”, she optimistically said to me.

“What about the accommodation?”, I asked.

“Oh, they were already going to throw me out, but then I won this contest and received some scholarship from the university. It was enough to pay for the dormitory and two books. I’m sharing them with my roommate as well”, was her response. “I have good news too, I’m best in my mathematics class so far!”, she added.

We became friends in a blink of the eye and now she writes me almost every week describing her life there and the way her lessons go, she asks me about my projects and plans, she sends me congratulations on holidays. Her letters are usually long, pretty detailed and very positive regardless the problems she describes there.

And me? Even though sometimes I’m too lazy to read a joke of few lines and am absolutely terrible in solving my correspondence – whenever I see her letter among others I open it first and read it from the beginning till the end.

But what is more important – these letters always make me happy and proud.

I know, you still think it’s impossible to get to know a person via internet, but this is the power of belief that brings absolutely amazing people on my way.

The reason our correspondence started on the first place is because she felt the urge to tell me this story of her life and explain why she didn’t participate openly in AdnanEmin Campaign.

She wrote me to say, she hates herself for getting scared.

The first sentence of my next letter was: “I’m proud of you”. And I actually was.

The subject of our correspondence was “Education&Freedom”.



For me this girl is the hope. She’s a success story which I hope will be contagious for everyone she meets along her way.

Because if she’s a future of this country, then I definitely want to live long enough to witness it.

As for the dishonest authorities which are to blame for the problems of this girl and other Azerbaijani kids studying abroad by this program - they'll have a special place in this future.

100

Today is a 100 day since Emin and Adnan are in prison.

***

They say the freedom is priceless.

They also say that freedom has a price to pay.

No contradiction – a very simple truth.

What are we ready to do for the freedom?

Are we ready to give up a good job with a high salary? Break up with someone we really love? Leave the family nest?

Are we ready to go our own way and make our own mistakes?

***

Milli, two days ago you’ve turned 30.

You have always been the one to spread the freedom all around you with an insane energy; to empower the weak; to stay cool with the strong; to inspire the frightened. You have always been THE change.

I remember the day I first met you almost four years ago when I was different and you were already crazy :)

I also remember the day we met in London last year after a long no-see period. I’ve changed. And you… You just looked at me and said: “I’m proud of you”. I smiled, because that was all I needed to hear to feel happy.

You’ve always taught me to see not a person, but his potential.
That enemy is not scary – it’s just afraid.
That even the most difficult challenges are necessary.

I’ve never listened. And had to learn it my own way by making my own mistakes during these 100 days, while you and Adnan were paying your freedom price with decency worth being proud of.

Two days ago you’ve turned 30.

Your friends and supporters gathered together all around the world to celebrate the day of Global Emotional Warming (that's how we named your birthday), to remember stories about you, to drink for both you and Adnan and even sing ‘Happy birthday’ in Azerbaijani. Your birthday became a flashmob of parties in London, Paris, Strasbourg, Istanbul, Ankara, Budapest, New York, Houston, Moscow, Basel and other cities of the World.

Milli, we need you back.

Yes, we’re even ready to listen to your endless speeches and countless ideas all day long, spend most of the day in a wi-fi café where you schedule all your meetings, argue and dispute over any topic you want any time of the day. Just come back.

We miss you every day.

Happy birthday.

***

There’s always a price to pay for freedom – a crossroads of comfort and imaginary happiness with artificial green grass along it.

The road of freedom is frightening, frustrating, usually lonely, but exciting and sincere. Once we step on it – there’s no way back.

And yes, we will imagine our life if we took ‘that’ job every time we check our wallets. And then remember people who paid much more for their freedom.

We will dream of mom’s dolma while eating a sandwich somewhere away from home. Then we’ll call her, go to sleep sadder than usual and wake up brand new next morning.

We will meet our ex-lovers on the streets and regret the decisions we made a while ago, but only for a moment. Then, leave confidently smiling.

Because once we taste the freedom – there’s nothing like it in the whole world. No, it doesn't make us fly and forget the reality - it shows us the exact path we shud take to live the life worth being proud of.

And this is the price one never regrets paying.

With a Little Help From My Friends

Ever since I was a school kid discipline was my main problem. Waking up early, coming to the class in time, doing homework between drawing I loved so much and cartoons I could never miss - all these things were unbearable and torturous sides of my happy childhood. My bad grades have never been about not knowing or not understanding the lesson, they were always about the lack of discipline.

So, now that you, dear followers, know me better, you will probably understand one of the main reasons I wouldn't update my blog for more than a month.

Yeah, now we have no secrets between each other.

***

There are two main questions we ask ourlselves when no one is watching: "Am I a good person?" and "Do people like me?". Yes, however confident and independent we are, we still feel a need to find answers to these questions over and over again.

And this is what makes us human.

***

During the last month my life was pretty much about my friends.

I went to Georgia again, where I met some new, saw some old, lost some pretty important and rediscovered some friends I knew for a while now.

I came back to Baku to send off one friend who was leaving to do Master's degree at the age of 20 and to support two who've been in prison for more than 90 days now.

Right now my life is pretty much about my friends, hence, borders, prisons, pride and disapoinments, unconditional love and the same old unity you read so much in this blog about.

Many years ago a big guy named Soviet Union came to this region to conquer and make us be friends no matter what after dozens of massacres and clashes happened in the beggining of the 20th century between Armenians and Azerbaijanis. For a while we became friends again but didn't quite understand why and what to do with the memories of killed ancestors.

70 years later we decided to find the answers through war and new killings. 20 more years, several years of war and thousands of more victims have passed and we're still in the search, so drowned in guilt of the past mistakes, that being friends again seems like something unbelievably nasty and betraying.

Today, when my inner borders have disappeared, and I can actually enjoy my friendship, I face many others - physical and moral ones, and have to be strong here.

So yeah, since my life is about my friends - the border is one of my problems.

People always get shocked when they see 900 friends on my Facebook, saying this is not normal and I probably don't know most of them. Well, actually I do know most of them, moreover - many of these most are my actual friends.

"No", people say, "One can't have so many friends, it's impossible. You can't know them all well, you'll get disappointed". Well, what can I say? Whenever I actually FEEL like calling someone a friend I do it and I'm not sorry for that. Whenever I get disappointed - I move on. Should a friend that has let me down change my life views? No. In fact, the only time I ever got disappointed was a bit more than a week ago. And the only thing I can say here - it happens.

Disappointment - a new feeling discovered during this month of absence.

October 14th, 2008 will always be one of the most special days for me - the day I rediscovered people I've known for a while, the day I've found my TRIBE.

I was fighting my fall depression when my boss called me to say that he and his wife are on their way downtown to celebrate the birthday of our friend Emin Milli. And even though Milli himself was in NY at that time, people still decided to gather and have fun. I wasn't very excited about it but decided to go as the depression was kicking pretty hardly.

The moment I arrived something clicked. I realized I was talking to people who actually dig me and are at the same page with me. That night I came back home around 4am after several hours of talking and was absolutely happy.

Ever since - my life has changed.

In several days, on October 14h Emin Milli is going to turn 30 and will probably still be in the prison. Did it change our plans? No, he would never let this happen.

Emin's birthday is gonna be celebrated not only in Azerbaijan but all around the world. It's been only one day since we've created an event and we already have groups in UK, US, Turkey, France and even Thailand. :) Yes, whether Emin and Adnan will join us on 14th or not, whether the trial that turned into an endless comedy with bad actors and fake proofs is going to end or not, there will be a celebration for their freedom and Emin's jubilee.

During the last month my life was about my friends. As well as unity and loyalty we have always needed so much.

***

Am I a good person?
Do people like me?

Now, that we became that close, dear followers, let me teach you another word in Azerbaijani language - "dostluq" (dostloogh), which means friendship.

I've had a wonderful month which was all about "dostluq", realizing how much it means to me and how special my friends are.

I've also realized one main thing: the only people who can answer my two main questions simply with their EXISTENCE are my friends. Whenever I feel proud of them - I feel happy about myself too. Whenever I feel that there's someone standing behind me just to be there - it's the best confidence one can ever dream of.

And when it comes to discipline.. well.. once you have it all you become disciplined just out of grattitude :)

Comfortably Deaf

This was a very long day…

After today’s trial I had a conversation with one of the representatives of “comforted” Azerbaijani youth. I told him about the case and it turned out he already knew about Emin (read a couple of his speeches).

I’ve been told that Emin has no content and is destructive in his criticism. That the things he says are ridiculous and wrong. That he needs to read and study more.

I wouldn’t argue. I only asked: “Should one get imprisoned for being ridiculous or wrong?”. The responce was: “I’m not well informed about the case and to be frank - I don’t really care”

***

Today I saw my friends sitting in a cage. Their hair were cut short, beards shaved, they lost weight and their eyes are more serious now.

Despite that, they kept the positive attitude, and it seems like, they endure the situation better now. During the break we finally had a chance to exchange couple of words with them, ask about books and other things they need. About how they’ve been doing these two months and how they feel now.

We could notice how happy they were to see their friends and families and how nervous they felt about the process. Yes, they would still hope for the justice to happen, they would still count on the judge to make a right decision.

“You can’t imagine how good it is for studying!” said Emin. “No one disturbs you. You can read and study all day long. I need more books!”. Then he saw one of his closest friends Erkin and joked: “Oh, I wish you were there with us!”.

Adnan called me from the cage, saying: “Do u remember when you brought us food in one of the first days?”, of course I did. It was Adnan’s birthday and we collected money to buy guys something to eat and even bought an apple pie for Adnan. “Sure, why?”. “I saw the paper (which has a list of the things and name of the person who brought them) and it made me cry”, he smiled back at me. My maternal instinct stuck somewhere in my throat and I was not able to respond anything to this.

During the process they would answer all the questions loud and clear, they would ask permission to talk and tell how the story actually happened. They would be confident and clever, as they always are.

The escort and court staff were surprisingly compassionate this time. One of them even brought me a bottle of water even though I didn’t ask. They would do the same for Emin and Adnan too, and I personally want to thank them for this.

One of the ‘victims’ turned out to be a 19-year-old director of the Lebanese restaurant which never appeared in papers before. The other one couldn’t decide whether he’s a welder or a stuccoer and it took him 5 minutes to figure out what IS passport and where he lives.

The representative of the ‘victims’ would call Adnan and Emin 'young politicians", basing on the report filed by guys, where they say that the fight started when they were having a conversation about politics. Moreover, he used it as an objection against the trial to be open because ‘state secrets can be uncovered during the process’. Both Emin and one of the lawyers Isakhan Ashurov tried to explain him the meaning of the word ‘politician’ and that talking about politics doesn’t necessarily mean to be a politician, as well as talking about football doesn’t mean to be a coach.

The defense has requested several motions including involving new witnesses, requesting videos recorded by street cameras in the area, the list of calls made by guys with position location, the suspension of detention, the release on bail and others, but all of them were rejected. In his turn, the prosecutor has requested two years of detention.

When the judge finished reading the decision he made and was about to leave the room, Adnan asked for a word. “Go on”, the judge said. “Your honor, during whole 2 months of our detention we haven’t been able to see or talk to our parents. Can you allow us to talk for five minutes now?”. The judge looked at him, sighed and said: “Sure. You have five minutes”.

We left them there happy to see their families and disappointed about having to go back to the jail. We waited until the escort took them out and sent them off shouting their names and “Azadliq” (aze. Freedom), attracting attention of the whole neighborhood and the cars that were passing by.

We didn’t care about the police around or people watching us. We knew this made Emin and Adnan feel happy and not alone.

***

So, dear comforted Azerbaijan,

You say it’s a young democracy, but how does it develop, if we had more democracy ten years ago than we have today?

You were lucky to have a chance not to study in local universities, but do you have an idea what’s going on there? Do you know about the level of corruption? Have you ever get the lowest grade for NOT bribing your professor?

Do you know about tax payers and the amount of taxes+bribery (if it’s a business) they have to pay?

Do you know about the problems people have in customs?

Have you ever seen the condition of Baku-Tbilisi train? Internal trains?

You say the country is beautiful and it’s developing, but have you been to the regions (outside the luxury hotels you usually stay at)? Have you seen the conditions people live in? Have you ever TALKED to them?

Do you know that women are not allowed to go to parks in Ismayilli, or that girls can be taken from schools after 10th grade by their fathers in Ujar, or married to some stranger (or a relative) by their parents in the age of 13 in Lenkeran?

Do you know what Emin did, when he learned about a girl married in the age of 10 in Lenkeran? He took 20 young people, got them in a bus and went there to talk to people. Have you ever done that?

Do you know that people in Mijan still remember Emin and the Open Air University he held there several years ago and now young people from there send him letters with blessings, saying how much they are grateful to him? Have you ever get those?

It’s only hundreds of you – those who live in different and fun Azerbaijan and MILLIONS of YOUR people who suffer all around the country.

Do you care about them?

Do you care about two young people facing two years in prison for bringing up all this?

Will you ever wake up from your wealthy dream and finally see true colors of the country we live in or are your cars going to be the only things left after you’re gone?

Both Emin and Adnan can be subjective in their attitude, destructive in their criticism or wrong in their views. But they do have the right to be wrong, subjective or mistaken, as well as you and 7 billion people living on Earth.

Look around. See how many people support these two guys even though they don’t have any power or money. Isn’t this the real power of love, friendship, like-mindedness and unity our fathers would fight for?

Who will care about making you happy when you’re all alone?

See us.

Hear us.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

Georgia on my mind: Gudauri

Yesterday I made a "To do" list for September and October. Realizing the load of work I'm going to do I started thinking about cloning.

Yes, I wish I could be cloned.

***

The very first Armenian (except Bakuvians) I met at the very first Conflict Resolution conference I attended was a guy named M. He sat next to me, introduced himself gave his business card. I would stare at it for several seconds, then brought myself to say “Hi” and kept shocked silence till the end of the first session.

What was I thinking about? “Ermeni” (az. Armenian). An aggressor, someone I can’t trust, someone who betrayed my people is sitting next to me. It wasn’t hatred. It was the fear, soaked so deep in my mind I couldn’t bring myself to say a word.

As I went through a difficult but exciting process of analyzing my own personality during the last year, I was able to notice the difference in my attitude on August 4th, when I arrived in Gudauri, Georgia to join Imagine'09 Azerbaijani-Armenian retreat.

Two groups - 7 Azerbaijanis and 7 Armenians, facilitators, one trainer, one hotel.

After 8 days of discussions about general history, significant dates in Azerbaijani-Armenian relations, personal stories, future planning and countless teambuilding activities, including several hours of hiking (which proved the incompatibility of Fatalin and nature), horseriding (and weird way of walking of all the group members the next day) and jakuzi evenings (personal thanks to the inventor) the spirit of CHANGE filled the Marco Polo hotel.

We would talk for hours, get emotional, cry and laugh together, realizing how much we have in common and how beautiful our world could be.

Watching my new (both Azerbaijani and Armenian) friends laughing and drinking together on one of the last days I realized that even last drops of my fear vanished and today the word "ermeni" makes me think of a thoughtfull roommate; a confident beauty; a brave and protective girl; a political junkie; a reliable and supportive friend; a dancing diva; of my 17 year-old brother; of my crazy curly mirror and her bracelet - seven wonderful friends of mine living on the other side of the border

And as my roommate - a talented journalist - mentioned in her speech about us on our last evening together: "You've changed my perception. You are my Azerbaijan."

Yes, 8 days under one roof made us succeed over two main enemies - the load of history on our shoulders and Azerbaijanis and Armenians inside of us.

And it's only a beginning.

***

I wish I could be cloned. There would be two Fatalins, who'd be able to run all the projects the current one loaded on herself.

One Fatalin could've done Conflict Resolution, another one Culture.

One Fatalin could've met with friends and family members left unattended by her, while another one could've kept on working.

One Fatalin could've left the country and live happily-ever-after in European comfort, only caring about social care and taxes. Another one could've stayed in Azerbaijan and fight for the freedom of speech, democracy, reduction of corruption and etc.

One Fatalin could've fit the society, another gone against it.

One Fatalin could've been a Turk. Another one - a Caucasian.

One Fatalin could've had Armenian friends, another one - drown in hatred towards them.



I wish I could be cloned.

There would be no choices to make, no attitutes to fight, no critics to endure, no balance to keep.

Life would be quiet, measured, regular and so damn boring.