Why is it that when you’re just starting a job, you always introduce yourself to the CEO with spinach in your teeth, or rip your pants pocket, or spill toner on your shirt?

My finest hour was when I was starting on the copy desk at a newspaper, trying to make a good impression as a head-down, able worker, and the copy chief gave me a big story. I had my take-out dinner on my desk. As I stared intently at the screen, trying to be the model of a journalist who’s so totally engrossed in the task at hand he can’t even be bothered to look at his food, I gave my Orangina a vigorous shake, as instructed on the bottle. Forgetting about the cap. Which was off.

The guy sitting next to me said he couldn’t believe his eyes: me just shaking this bottle, the bright-yellow fizzy drink flying everywhere. And it took me a second to catch on, too: even as I felt myself getting I drenched I think I was in disbelief at the sheer stupidity of what I was doing, so I kept right on shaking the bottle for another second, soaking my clothes, dinner, and workstation in sugary goodness.

Yeah, I’m awesome.

So I’m on Day 2 as a Kiva Fellow at XacBank, here in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. XacBank is the first microfinance institution Kiva has partnered with in this country, and I have been given specific instructions to make a good first impression as a Kiva representative because Kiva is super-excited about the partnership. And I am, too: I’ve been pumped to get to Mongolia ever since I heard Kiva would be starting operations here.

In Azerbaijan, where I spent about two months as a Fellow before coming here, each of the MFIs I worked with rents a few rooms and has a few employees in their main office. I got to know the CEOs personally. We all wore sweaters to work most days. The employees were tight, like families.

XacBank (pronounced haas-bank) is like — well, a bank. It’s a microfinance bank, but it’s definitely a bank. Gleaming marble floors. ATMs. Currency exchange. An HR department. Fatigue-wearing security guards with guns. Suits and ties. A conference room with snazzy rolling chairs.

So, of course, Day 2, I break a mug right in the hallway by the stairs, the most high-traffic part of the office. I’m actually thinking, as I put the mug down on the blatantly-neither-flat-nor-level Hyundai water cooler (see photo): “This sure seems likely to fall, as this is not a flat surface.” I’m actually thinking that.

This is not a flat surface.

And this is not a new experience. I’ve been down this road before, either thinking “if I back up any more, I’ll put my tail light out on that fire hydrant,” or “if I flick this cigarette butt that way, it’ll hit that dude’s Harley,” and then proceeding to do it anyway.

So now I’m picking up broken ceramic shards and apologizing to whoever walks by. And I’m having a lousy day — I’m new to this country, it’s freezing cold, there’s bad news coming by e-mail from home and I’m too far away to be of help, I feel lonely and jet-lagged — and I’m experiencing wave after wave of let’s-call-the-new-guy-’butterfingers’ shame.

(with apologies to Sports Illustrated NFL writer Peter King)

1. Cats are great city animals.

Cat on car.

At one time, Baku was rat country, so I’ve been told. Someone decided to fix the problem by either introducing cats to the streets or firing all the cat-catchers. You don’t see many rats around nowadays.

Cats are everywhere. They stand guard outside the markets, scurry beneath the tables inside the posh furniture stores, sleep atop parked BMWs, pick through garbage, and mew in the hallway of my apartment building. A friend here started adopting street cats and now has seven in her flat.

Coming from New York, I’ve always held up pigeons (and to a lesser extent, squirrels) as the best city animals. And I’ve always taken rats for granted. But cats, quiet and clean, are, to me, the new gold standard.

2. Traffic laws are outstanding.

So THAT'S what a seatbelt is for...

As a car owner, I have some ambivalence about traffic laws. I hate parking tickets. Sometimes I find a 65 mph speed limit to be ­— idealistic. And I’ve sent the occasional text message at a red light.

So I write this fully aware that I am a hypocrite: traffic laws are outstanding.

I’ve been in countries with bad drivers before. The drivers of India and Pakistan and Bangladesh don’t deserve any medals. But there, because it’s generally poorer and warmer, the streets are jammed with every sort of vehicle: hand-pulled, bicycle and motorized rickshaws, scooters, buses, trucks and cars, not to mention a variety of livestock.

So bad driving is mitigated by 1) self-preservation (as you can get thrown from a rickshaw pretty easily) and 2) weak engines. It’s hectic, lawless traffic, but it’s not that fast.

Azerbaijan, in contrast, has hectic, lawless, fast traffic. People are generally driving cars, buses or trucks, and good cars, too, not Tata Nanos, but Benzes.

And because cars are the only thing on the road and cars are expensive, if you’re driving at all here, you’re a big deal. That, in turn, means you shouldn’t have to break for any commoner on foot. Nor should you approach a blind turn through a narrow, residential alley at less than 50 mph.

It’s not that right-of-way is ambiguous here: the cars have it. I guess I’ve been spoiled living in places where cars break for pedestrians, but I find the traffic here beyond aggravating. Everyone uses their car horns constantly to express anger, and tricked-out horn upgrades (the “air horn” and the “Godfather theme” being ubiquitous) are mandatory.

What’s optional? Seatbelts. Headlights at night. Child safety seats. Staying within the solid double-lines on a highway. Most people with kids have them ride on their laps in the front passenger seat, their little faces pressed to the windshield.

On a recent road trip, we passed a roadkill horse (!), two dead dogs, and a brick truck that had lost its bricks on the way out of Baku. On the way back, we saw a dead person in the road (!!). No wonder everyone stops at the mosque just outside of town to make an offering to Allah thanking Him for a safe ride!

3. Russian is hard.

Three genders? Six cases? I’ve been studying for two months and still don’t know what a case is.

4. All politics is local.

So said Tip O’Neill, long-serving Speaker of the House.

Case in point. In America, we fought a “cold” war with Russia from the mid-1940s to 1991. There is still hatred and fear of Russia in some parts of our political sphere (ask Sen. John McCain how he likes the Russians).

We also have as our enemies the “Axis of Evil”: Iran, Iraq and North Korea. Iraq, of course, is now are ward. North Korea is flirting with giving up the bomb. But Iran appears to be carrying on as a threat, with worried talk in the news magazines and Sunday morning talk shows over when it will get nukes and what it will do with them.

So here I am in Azerbaijan, sandwiched between Putin and Ahmadinejad. Azeris don’t care. There’s nothing too frightening about either. They may not always have nice things to say about their neighbors to the north and south, but Americans aren’t always that charitable with Canada and Mexico, either. Anyway, Azeris have reserved 100 percent of their negative energy for their neighbor to the west: Armenia.

The cause is a dispute over the territory of Nagorno-Karabakh, which took the form of a war in the late ’80s and ’90s and now is the source of much saber-rattling, but little fighting. Some 800,000 Azeris were displaced by the loss of the territory, and bettering their lives is a major part of microfinance here.

It’s less of an axis and more of a singularity of evil. And, sadly, it’s no exaggeration to say that dislike of the Armenians is nearly universal and is strong. I don’t know, there’s some axiom here that fits, one man’s jelly is another man’s jam or something…

5. Bribes suck.

I finally paid one, last week. Sixty manat (about $75). It wasn’t, like, spiritually degrading or anything, but it was 60 AZN that I’m not going to be spending on candy and DVDs.

Posted in All, Azerbaijan, KF6 (Kiva Fellows 6th Class) Tagged: Armenia, Azerbaijan, Baku, Bangladesh, bribes, candy, cases, cats, DVDs, hypocrisy, India, Iran, mark bulliet, Nagorno-Karabakh, NFL, Pakistan, rickshaws, Russia, seatbelts, The Godfather ]]> http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/12/16/5-things-i-think-i-think-about-azerbaijan/feed/ 8 kivamark dsc004201 dsc00265 http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/09/18/hello-cool-world/ http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2008/09/18/hello-cool-world/#comments Thu, 18 Sep 2008 23:48:52 +0000 kivamark http://kivafellows.wordpress.com/?p=1555 ]]>

I’m the only fellow headed to Azerbaijan from Kiva Fellows 6, so I’m pretty excited to bring word of this fascinating region to those of you who make Kiva such a success. I’ll be visiting each of Kiva’s partner microfinance institutions in the region to assist them in any way I can, support Kiva, journal and train the MFIs on new software systems being put into place.

I’ve never been to the Caucasus. It’s largely a blank slate to me. What the Lonely Planet, my Azeri taxi driver last night and previous Kiva Fellows in the area, such as Jonathan Buser, say is that it’s a real crossroads: a blend of post-Soviet bureacracy, Shi’ite Islam, impoverished “internally displaced persons,” fabulously wealthy petrocapitalists living off the transport of oil and natural gas from east to west and the ex-pats who help that happen. I’ll be living in Baku (birthplace of chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov), the capital, for 6-10 weeks, and then moving on to my next destination for Kiva (Mongolia?) for the remainder of my 6-month fellowship.

I really hope to shed some light for people on this poorly understood region and its challenges for all of you. I’ll do my best.

–Mark Bulliet, KF6

Families in rural Azerbaijan are heavily reliant on farm animals, often just a handful of sheep and a cow, for food and income. Microcredit loans allow enterprising individuals to scale up animal raising activities so that excess milk, cheese, wool, and offspring can be sold for a profit. But where does one go to buy a cow or a half dozen sheep? I learned that once a week as many as 4,000 farmers congregate with their animals to exchange ownership at the Livestock Bazaar. Kiva’s field partner, Aqroinvest arranged for me to meet a client and conduct an interview at the bazaar. With the help of another fellow we filmed our visit to the sprawling animal market.

As I wrap up my time as a Kiva Fellow with Norwegian Microcredit (Normicro) in Azerbaijan, I realized that I cannot adequately summarize in words the knowledge I’ve gained on microfinance and Azerbaijan, things and places I’ve seen, and people and entrepreneurs I’ve met.  For to share about microfinance in Azerbaijan, one must place it in the context of the country’s historical and current political and economic situation.  Besides, the previous Kiva Fellow in Azerbaijan had already written an excellent blog on this topic.  (See: ‘The Role of Microfinance in Azerbaijan‘) Hence, I decided to put my thoughts into a video instead: 

The biggest holiday in Azerbaijan is Novruz. This spring event has its roots as a pre-Islam New Year celebration. It officially begins on the spring equinox but the celebration ramps up much earlier with large street bonfires every Tuesday for the month preceding Novruz. Each week represents a different element: earth, water, air, and fire. Much of the community comes out for the bonfires to socialize and listen to music. Tradition calls for fearless youth to jump across the bonfire regardless or how large it is. On one occasion I witnessed a boy run through a fire along a burning pole until he could leap the last 3 feet to the other side. I was coerced into making the leap over a much more manageable fire only to learn that once is not enough, three leaps is keeping with tradition. After four weeks of bonfires, and all the scrap wood has been burned, the Novruz holiday finally arrives with a full week of vacation for the entire country.

Novruz is also important for Azerbaijan’s small businesses. Many of the Kiva borrowers I visited were making business decisions based on their sales projections during the holiday. One client had pre-shorn three sheep with the hopes of selling them for butcher at a higher price during the holiday. All of the Kiva trading clients had stocked up on inventory for their shops. Some of the special items included small fireworks, nuts, and festive pots of wheat. This is a very enjoyable time to be in Azerbaijan.

On Sunday, I had the privilege of spending time with an Azeri woman over lunch and walking around Baku.  For the record, I am female. I met Ulviyya on a bus a few days ago when I saw her reading English vocabulary from a dictionary that was falling apart to pieces and started talking to her.  We parted shortly after but before doing so, Ulviyya jumped on the opportunity to practice her spoken English.  She took down my mobile number and invited me to lunch on Sunday.    

Throughout the few hours we spent together, I was incredible impressed at how diligent Ulviyya was at asking for definitions of words she didn’t understand, taking notes, and referring to what’s left of her Azerbaijani-English dictionary to express words she struggled with.  I felt more and more embarrassed at how little effort I am putting into learning Azeri in comparison to her!    

After lunch, Ulviyya took me to a place in the city where there were vendors selling English instruction books.  We selected a few but the availability of affordable books was very scarce.  She had already read almost all books at the level below her current ability. Ulviyya tells me that she would like to improve her English so that she can be confident of applying for and getting a job as a geologist at BP, where the salary is much higher but fluency in English is mandatory. 

I am humbled upon realizing how hard Azerbaijanis at every level of society strive to better their lives.  Some opt to borrow from microfinance organizations to expand their businesses while others increase their human capital by learning English. 

Greetings!  My name is Ai Li Ang and I live in Chicago, Illinois, in the USA.  I was born and grew up in Malaysia and am ethnically Chinese (this detail will be relevant later on).  I arrived in Azerbaijan as a Kiva Fellow to work with one of Kiva’s partners, Norwegian Microcredit (Normicro).  This is the second time that Normicro is hosting a Kiva Fellow.  Since the previous Fellow, Liz Vallette, departed in fall of 2007, Normicro has continued to experience tremendous growth in number of clients served and loan portfolio.  In less than a year, Normicro has added 2 branch offices to the 5 it had last year, improving access to microloans for many low-income and internally-displaced persons in Azerbaijan. 

Last week, I ventured outside the capital city of Baku (where Normicro’s head office is located) to visit a branch office (where loans are administered) for the first time.  My goal was to interview clients who received loans from Kiva lenders, write journals, and upload the journals to Kiva.org.  Getting to Khachmaz, a city north of Baku, was relatively easy for someone who doesn’t speak Azeri or Russian.  Minibuses, known as “mashrutkas”, line up outside one of Baku’s main bus stations with clearly labeled signs of their destinations.  As far I know, the mashrutkas don’t follow schedules, but depart as soon as each vehicle fills up.  For most low-income Azeris, mashrutkas are the most reliable and affordable means of traveling to other cities.  However, the 3 manat (approx. 3.60 USD) one way, 2.5 hour bumpy journey is not for the faint-hearted.  Many times the driver would pass slow trucks in spite of on-coming vehicles, swerving back to his own lane only at the very last minute.  Sometimes, when the driver overestimated his mashrutka’s horsepower on a passing attempt, he would resort to creating an additional middle lane.    

During my 3 days at Normicro’s Khachmaz branch office, the two loan officers, Vagif and Nafira, were quite busy meeting with clients at the office.  Yet, they took some time off in the afternoons to take me to see borrowers of Kiva loans.  I also received translation help from a U.S. Peace Corps volunteer, Adam.  Most of the clients we visited operated retail (e.g., clothes, groceries, shoes, furniture) business.  Very quickly I got consistent replies that the loans were used to purchase inventory in bulk to get lower prices.  This implies that the additional profit margin from lower cost of goods was more than sufficient to offset the 3% monthly interest rate charged by Normicro.  Access to loans essentially accelerates the rate at which these entrepreneurs accumulate profit and grow their businesses.  Many of them also expressed the desire to take larger loans so that they can make one-time infrastructure investments or buy inventory in even larger quantities.    

In a small city such as Khachmaz, when two foreigners walk through the bazaar and talk to people, all buying and selling activities are paused because everyone gathers around to listen to our interviews!  Each one of us also draws attention for different reasons: Vagif and Nafira, the loan officers, were constantly approached by current and potential clients with inquiries; Adam, a caucasian, was considered the rich investor who would provide the loan capital; I, on the other hand, was asked directly or indirectly what I was selling!  (Chinese in Azerbaijan are typically seen selling toys and misc. items on sidewalks and on the streets.)

Stepping out onto the streets of Azerbaijan’s capital city is a quick way to gain insight on the local economic situation. The streets of Baku, much like other large cities, are plagued with traffic and drivers who use their horns more than they obey any sort of traffic laws. The mixture of vehicles that fill the roads is telling of the wealth disparity. Public transport is accomplished by aging mini-buses called marshrutkas plying the streets in all directions. Larger city buses are mostly absent so these marshrutkas provide the most comprehensive city transport in Baku. Although bus stops do exist, they are rarely used so one can wave down a passing bus at any time. Boxy, Russian made Ladas are most prevalent passenger car because they are cheap, easy to fix, and will last for hundreds of thousands of miles. However, with their 13” wheels and a manual choke lever, Ladas have less style than your back yard lawnmower. The final component of Baku’s streets is luxury cars. In stark contrast to the rest of the 4-wheeled street machines, BMWs, Mercedes, Land Rovers, Hummers and other high value vehicles by anyone’s standards are surprisingly common, clearly the spoils of the rich Azerbaijan oil deposits. Although watching these mismatched cars interact can be amusing (until you need to cross the street) one of the most enjoyable things to do in Baku is walk through the walls of the old city. The cobblestone streets, thankfully too narrow for cars, quickly dampen the noise of the busy modern city leaving you to enjoy the ancient architectural beauty in peace. The winding maze of alleys helps to prolong the peaceful experience before you inevitably exit the gates and face the modern world again – wishing that car horns wore out as frequently as brake lights.  

On Friday, with the help of the NorMicro staff, I held a “Kiva Training Session” for the employees of the Azerbaijani Kiva Field Partners. There were seventeen of us total, representing NorMicro, Komak, and AqroInvest. Bahman (NorMicro’s Director) suggested that I hold the training, while Tasaduf (NorMicro’s Human Resources Manager) worked really hard to get us a very nice briefing room in Baku’s fancy Caspian Business Plaza. For over three hours we discussed (in English and Azerbaijani, with translation by Tasaduf!) pertinent Field Partner topics, such as writing Kiva business descriptions, taking good client photos, how to post business profiles, and writing journal entries. The attendees had lots and lots of good questions and are obviously committed to further enhancing their Kiva efforts!

I made sure we had an internet connection and a projector so everyone could experience Kiva.org — some of the attendees have not yet worked with Kiva, while others do not have consistent internet access in their offices. During the presentation I surfed through the website, highlighting important points and answering questions about lenders and clients. (I even impressed them with the fact that almost 12% of all Kiva funds, thus far, have gone to Azerbaijani clients!) One thing I really focused in on was that Kiva lenders are individuals – I think it’s easy for the uninitiated loan officer to assume that Kiva is just some faceless American corporation throwing big money at international projects. I pulled up Hajibaba’s business profile and used Mrs. Diba’s Class as an example of Kiva’s lenders. The mental image of six-year-olds collecting pennies for Hajibaba really helps illustrate the Kiva spirit!!     

To train the newbies and reinforce Kiva’s processes to the experienced loan officers, we used a “real” client as an example. We tested out the new Kiva Form created by Adam (Peace Corps Volunteer assigned to NorMicro) as a means of systematically improving information flow between loan officers and the individuals who post the Kiva listings. Next, we all worked together to develop a concise, but detailed business description. Finally, Behbud (NorMicro’s Beylagan Branch Kiva Coordinator) walked us through posting a profile – keep an eye out for Rafig’s profile!

The Kiva Training attendees:

The response to the training was very encouraging and I expect that the Azerbaijani Kiva listings will soon be even better! The training was a little bittersweet for me – I leave in just one week!  Time has flown! I am sad to go, but I guess I do need to get back home and finish up my degree at some point   I hope to post some links to pictures before I leave!

OK, I’m not really lost, but I have been traveling like crazy the past two or so weeks and have not been able to keep up with journals or blogs! I apologize for the length of this, but I’ll try to recap:

14 – 16 July: I jumped on a mashrutka (a fancy name for a really old, unsafe, run-down mini-bus) and headed two hours north of Baku to NorMicro’s branch office in Khachmaz. I spent Saturday hanging out with Azerbaijani friends I have made on previous visits to Khachmaz this summer. On Sunday I went to the modest seaside resort town of Nabran, but unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate much and the water was really cold. On Monday I visited eight Kiva clients in Khachmaz with translation help from Adam, the U.S. Peace Corps Volunteer assigned to NorMicro in Khachmaz. We walked all over Khachmaz locating clients – at least I’m getting exercise to offset the amount of food I’ve been eating! I’ve been to Khachmaz often enough now that I know a lot of people there – it’s fun to spot clients I’ve visited on previous trips and see that things are still going well for them. While I was in Khachmaz, I spent my nights with two different host families. Azerbaijanis rank near the top of the list of the most hospitable people of the planet…but I do have to admit, all the attention and food and cousins and tea and wedding videos and more tea and photo albums does get a bit exhausting! I definitely did not have a chance to write-up any of my Kiva journals while I was the guest of those families!! (Photo: People and cows enjoying the beach at Nabran.)

17 July: I caught an early mashrutka to the small town of Devechi and met up with Adam and Nafira, a loan officer at NorMicro’s Khachmaz branch. We visited fourteen clients in the Devechi bazaar – nearly every vendor in the bazaar is a NorMicro client! Nafira is very efficient and is well-liked by her clients, so our visits went smoothly and quickly. After a late lunch of mutton kebabs, I returned to Baku.

19 – 20 July: The next morning I took yet another early mashrutka to the central Azerbaijani town of Agsu. In the two days I spent there, I visited twenty Kiva clients with the help of the branch manager, Namik, and his friendly staff. The talk of the town in Agsu that week was the municipality’s new mandate that all street-front shops conform to a specific architectural design. The idea is that Agsu will look much more appealing once all the ramshackle shops are torn down. The downside for shop owners is that the municipality is not helping out at all with the costs of remodeling. They are, however, providing the demolition free of charge. Khilgat’s rented shop had been torn down 2 days before my visit, and Terlan’s shop was scheduled for demolition later in the week. Despite the bad news, the clients were in relatively good humor and showed me the color blueprints for the approved Agsu storefronts, so kindly provided by the municipality. Following these two days of visits I experienced my most exciting taxi ride in Azerbaijan thus far (and that’s saying something…!) – me, two other women, and three children in the backseat of a Lada, with me holding onto a stranger’s baby. Many high-speed hairpin turns and two hours later, we arrived – safely – in Baku. (Photo: Me with NorMicro’s Agsu Branch staff)

21-21 July: Saturday was devoted to spending quality time with my host family – we visited three different aunts in Baku, and, of course, ate and drank tea with all of them. I finally got time Sunday to head to a coffee shop I had found recently that has free wi-fi – it’s geared towards upper crust Bakuvians and expats, so the food and drink prices keep me from hanging out too long! I did manage to get some work done, though!

23 July: I have had so much success in visiting clients with Nafira that I returned to her region to visit six more Kiva clients that live in a small village outside Devechi. Adam and Vagif, another loan officer, helped us out. I was eager to visit agricultural businesses after so much time visiting retail and trading businesses. It was a very, very, very warm afternoon, but the clients were friendly and the visits were rewarding.

24 July: ACDI|VOCA and AMFA class on success stories and business descriptions.

25 July: After reviewing the materials from the business descriptions class, Bahman, the director of NorMicro suggested that I prepare formal Kiva training for his staff. I spent most of the day developing a training plan and trying to locate a venue to hold the training in. My plan is get a projector and an internet connection and walk the staff through everything – understanding how Kiva works, posting business descriptions, journals, etc. I think that seeing the website and understanding who the lenders are will be highly beneficial, especially for those loan officers and branch managers who rarely use the internet and may not yet fully understand the person-to-person connection that Kiva fosters. I expect that this training will enhance the Kiva listings coming from Azerbaijan! Hopefully, we will conduct the training next week…I’ll post an update!

26 – 27 July: I spent two days visiting Kiva clients in the industrial town of Sumgayit. As we pulled into Sumgayit, thick black smoke was billowing out of some sort of plant and was hovering over the town. This town was once the center of the Soviet chemical industry and held the dubious distinction of being one of the world’s most polluted cities. The demise of the Soviet Union resulted in bankrupt factories (but cleaner air), unemployment, plus an influx of internally displaced persons (IDPs) from the Azerbaijani-Armenian conflict. I visited eighteen clients here with help from NorMicro staff members Tasaduf, Ahmed, Bahram, and Board Member, Adalat. (Photo: Sumgayit’s Martyr’s Monument on the Caspian Sea.)

29 July – 1 August (already!?): I spent several days in the southern Azerbaijani town of Beylagan. With the help of NorMicro branch staff members Behbud, Eldaniz, and Arif, and U.S. Peace Corps Volunteer, Carlo, I visited sixteen Kiva clients. I also managed to get some kind of food poisoning that made me fully appreciate the plumbing and toilet situation I have in my place back in Houston! Nonetheless, the client visits went well and I have fully recovered.

2 August: The staff of AqroInvest, another Kiva Field Partner in Azerbaijan, invited me to spend the day traveling to their branch offices in the towns of Imishli, Saatli, Sabirabad, and Bilasuvar. We visited three different IDP villages – I’ll try to post a separate blog about these villages…

3 August: Finally back in the NorMicro head office in Baku – internet access!!

Thanks for reading this far!! I leave Azerbaijan in two weeks, after having spent three months here. I’m starting to get sad. But now I gotta get busy finishing up journals!

Yesterday in Baku, sixteen Azerbaijanis from seven MFIs filled a small conference room for a class on writing business descriptions and success stories. They were craving training, not only on these critical elements of promoting their organizations, but also on writing in the English language. Among the attendees, employees from Kiva’s three Azerbaijani field partners were present: Murad and Jeyhun from NorMicro, Ulviyya from Komak, and Tamilla from AqroInvest.

The class was organized by Paul at ACDI|VOCA through the Azerbaijan Micro-Finance Association (AMFA) after he detected a high demand from the Azerbaijani MFIs for such training. Paul spent about an hour teaching methods for writing success stories. He touched on basics like length, structure, and formatting. The importance of considering the audience that will read the story was stressed. He also spent time discussing the importance of well-composed photos – a topic that was well-received by the attendees.

I spent about an hour discussing the elements of a quality (interesting!) business description. I tried to impress upon the attendees that they have the opportunity through these business descriptions to educate international lenders about Azerbaijan, the local industries, and living conditions for the entrepreneurs. I used actual Kiva examples and the attendees rewrote the business descriptions using a Kiva-based format I provided. Paul had a projector set-up to his computer, so we were able to project Kiva.org on the wall and click through listings to reinforce the importance of quality business descriptions. Hopefully, having a pre-made template and seeing some English-language examples will aid these MFIs in bulking up their business descriptions.

As the class was wrapping up, Paul mentioned a follow-on class covering English-language emails and PowerPoint training – everyone received those topics enthusiastically. They were also interested in a class on photo composition and photo editing (cropping, straightening, brightening). Additionally, a couple of the Kiva partners here have asked me to help them create systems for more efficient posting and one partner is interested in learning how to post videos! Looks like I’ll be teaching a couple more classes! I’m really hoping that the training and interest will be translated into high quality Azerbaijani postings that more accurately represent the great entrepreneurs here!

Walking with a NorMicro loan officer through a small town bazaar in Azerbaijan is like walking with a pop star through a suburban American shopping mall. In Devechi, Nafira was mobbed by dozens of prospective clients as she led me through the crowded market stalls in search of Kiva clients. As he helped translate my interviews in Agsu, Namik often had to field questions from clients about the likelihood of their friend or neighbor getting a loan. The weekly “reception day” in each NorMicro branch office – that is, the day when clients make payments, drop off applications, and just stop by to chat – creates a constant stream of dozens of clients passing through the offices. In many small Azerbaijani towns, the only banking institutions interested in serving the low-income population are a handful of small MFIs. Many of the clients I met enthusiastically expressed their gratitude at having access to these micro banking services – without NorMicro and similar MFIs, they would have no way to improve their businesses and their families’ situations.

In the early nineties, Azerbaijan got hit with an economic double-whammy: the simultaneous collapse of the Soviet Union and the war with Armenia over Nagorno-Karabakh. Under the Soviet system, subsidies prevented extreme poverty and the huge bureaucracy created many government jobs. A uniformly mediocre standard of living existed across the Soviet Republics. The fall of the U.S.S.R. resulted in the loss of this government-strung safety net, leaving many Azerbaijanis jobless and without government subsidies to pick up the slack as the country transitioned from command to market economy. Throw nearly 700,000 citizens (10% of the population) displaced by the Armenian occupation of Nagorno-Karabakh, and a full-out economic crisis was created.

Fast-forward fourteen years later and most of the 700,000 IDPs are still living in “temporary” housing while the government has turned its attention to the country’s oil reserves. This “resource curse” has left much of the population oscillating between a meager sustainable existence and extreme poverty, despite the oil revenues supposedly flooding into the country (reference Venezuela and Nigeria). What infrastructure did exist in the Soviet days is deteriorating and health care, roads, electricity, water, and sewage systems are substandard and unreliable in much of the country. Politics-driven policies have prevented the IDPs from fully-integrating into their new communities, and many live isolated in abject poverty even in the shadows of Baku’s oil mansions.

Hang with me while I get even more technical for a minute. Statistics indicate that 49% of Azerbaijanis live below the poverty line, and up to 85% earn very low wages and live at very low standards. Inflation is 8%, ranking Azerbaijan 170 out of 224 countries. The Azerbaijani government officially classifies unemployment at 1.2% (or the fifth lowest unemployment rate in the world), an implausibly low statistic which brings me to the topic of corruption. Azerbaijan is in an eight-way tie for the 130^th most corrupt nation (out of 160) on the Transparency International 2006 Corruption Perception Index.

The Azerbaijani microfinance industry stands out as the single beacon of honesty and goodwill in a country where corruption is deeply ingrained in government services. The clients appreciate the fact that when they apply for loans through MFIs they do not have to pay the hefty “application fee” (known elsewhere as a bribe!) that they must pay at other banking institutions. The MFIs, with international assistance, are motivated by a sense of national pride and concern for their countrymen, and have thus far kept the industry free of the pervasive corruption found in other sectors of society. Microfinance resources are in very high demand throughout Azerbaijan, as IDPs and other low income individuals work to gain footing in the emerging market economy. Many IDPs, like Mashuga Ismayilova, fled during the war, leaving behind their homes, possessions, and jobs. They have had to pick up new livelihoods and often still live in squalid conditions, like Devran Ibishov. But with the aid of small business loans they try and often succeed, like Khagani Nuruyev, in improving their situations. Azerbaijan has enormous potential, but the poor working-class Azerbaijanis need a helping hand to set progress in motion.

Yesterday was a rather typical day for me in Azerbaijan’s capital, Baku. I left my host family’s nice home and walked fifteen minutes to the nearest metro station. On the way to the metro station I passed new apartment buildings, food shops with locally-grown fruit displays, clothing stores with bright skirts hanging in the windows, street cats lolling in the sun, bored taxi drivers playing backgammon, and street vendors selling cell phone cards. I weaved through and dodged traffic when necessary, Frogger-style. $0.05, three metro stops, and three flights of stairs later, I arrived at the NorMicro head office. The head office oversees five branch offices (Baku, Sumgayit, Khachmaz, Agsu, Beylagan) that provide loans to IDPs and low-income Azerbaijanis.

I took advantage of the relatively consistent electricity and dial-up internet access that the Baku head office offers, and reviewed the Kiva.org profiles of the clients I planned to visit later in the day. Yesterday was really warm, so I opted to not have the obligatory morning cup of hot chay. I emailed two of the five NorMicro branch representatives that deal with Kiva clients and arranged visits with them for next week. When lunchtime rolled around, rather than eat the office cook’s freshly prepared meal (like I usually do – and with enjoyment!), I instead met a friend (and Kiva lender!) at an air-conditioned café on a shaded pedestrian street near the beautiful Baku Opera Theater. After a Western meal that cost more than I usually spend in an entire week, I hurried to meet up with two of the Baku branch office’s loan officers.

The loan officers and I took the company Lada , a Russian car that is now ubiquitously Azerbaijani, and innocuously slipped out of shiny-happy Baku and into her darker, forgotten side. The contrast between the growing affluent population of Baku and the limbo-stranded IDP population still unnerves me, even after seeing it routinely for over a month. Our Lada passed new three-story homes carefully concealed behind foreboding walls with impressive metal gates and turned onto a rough, unpaved road leading to a neighborhood that may as well have been in another country. It is inconceivable that I ate an expensive lunch next to a beautiful Opera House less than five kilometers from this neighborhood. Sadly, neighborhoods like this exist all over Baku and many other parts of the country, as IDPs have been temporarily settled in old government buildings until they can return to their homes in Nagorno-Karabakh.

The dusty, rocky road was lined with mismatched sheets of scavenged metal that hid the living quarters beyond. We passed a group of rickety, wooden outhouses, all padlocked so that only the owners could use them. Children obliviously darted across the road and elderly men loitered in side streets, whiling away another day. Soon, we arrived at our destination: a row of little shops, haphazardly constructed along the edge of the road to serve this IDP community. Casting ragged shadows over the shops were three decaying, seven-story buildings that would have been condemned and then demolished anywhere else. Electric wires created a twisting and ominous web between the structures. Inside the buildings, worn wooden planks or old car doors bridged growing gaps in heavily-trafficked stairwells. Clotheslines hung in the hallways and trash filled empty cavities where elevators previously resided.

Over the course of two hours, I met with eight NorMicro entrepreneurs with loans financed by Kiva lenders. They came originally from districts that border the highly contested region of Nagorno-Karabakh: Fizuli, Jabrayil, Agdam. I was impressed by the sense of pride and foresight each of these lenders have in their businesses, despite the fact that for fourteen years they have been living in neglected, isolated communities with few economic opportunities. Each of them commented on the fact that the only way they are able to improve their businesses is through the microloans offered by NorMicro. They described to me their hopes for their families and business, but admitted that these hopes were going to be very difficult to achieve.

After leaving the IDP community, I spent a little while back at the head office collecting my thoughts and making notes for the journals I will later write on these entrepreneurs. Returning home with my host family, I spent some time “paying the rent” by speaking English with the three teenage kids. Later in the evening we ate corn-on-the-cob and watermelon in a yard surrounded by a high wall and metal gate – a world away from the IDP entrepreneurs I had met earlier.

Azerbaijanis don’t smile for pictures. After six weeks of taking pictures of and with Azerbaijanis, I can say this with certainty. Truthfully, it’s driving me a little crazy. I can be having the best time with NorMicro entrepreneurs – I mean, tea and sweets are offered, hands are held, cheeks are kissed, jokes are made, marital status inquiries are made – and once they catch a glimpse of my camera they immediately put on their Serious Photo Face. It’s so frustrating! None of my journal photos even remotely convey the bubbling personality of the entrepreneurs!

Thankfully, I know it’s not just me they use the Serious Photo Face on. I’ve looked at many a wedding album since I’ve arrived and not a single person (especially the bride and groom!) smile for the photos. Wedding parties look like the worst time on Earth.

Recently, I was staying with the family of a young, female employee of NorMicro in the northern town of Khachmaz. We planned to go to the park that evening and take photos. After work, I arrived at the house amid a flurry of activity. The four sisters, an aunt, and a sister-in-law were hurriedly fixing their hair, applying makeup, and changing into dressy clothes. I even put on silver glitter eye shadow they offered me. We were set to take some killer pictures in the park. We had a great time walking through the park and taking dozens of photos, but not a single one of those photos would later indicate that we had a good time! That is, except for the one oddly smiling person in every picture: me.

Since that night of the serious park visit, I’ve been practicing my “Azerbaijani smile” so I don’t stick out in pictures so much! Here’s my best attempt, with NorMicro/Kiva client, Sarfinaz. I should point out that Sarfinaz insisted that I take a photo with her and she had been, up until the second my camera appeared, a vivacious and smiling woman!

Hi, I’m Liz Vallette and I’m from Houston, Texas.  I just arrived in Baku, Azerbaijan last Friday to work as a Kiva Fellow with Normicro.  Normicro has 5 branches throughout Azerbaijan that serve internally displaced (IDPs) and low-income persons.  I was lucky to show up right as the branches are having their annual General Assemblies. 

Normicro has a unique structure that allows the customers to have a role in the governance of the organization.  Each branch has an elected advisory council made up of three male clients and three female clients that meet monthly to review operations and financial figures.  Each year, all of the clients gather to hear about Normicro’s progress and to vote for new councils members.  Yesterday I went to Khachmaz where about 130 clients attended the annual General Assembly.  Today I went to the General Assembly today in Aghsu, attended by about 75 clients.  Tomorrow I am traveling to Beylagan for that branch’s General Assembly.  Finally, next week I will begin visiting with individual clients and posting journals!   

I’m staying in Baku with a terrific host family that I met through a contact at my university.  I have my own room, more food than I should be eating, and easy access to the Baku Metro.  I traveled to the Normicro branches in cars – and I should point out that driving here is much more of an adventure than back home.

Speaking of driving, the head of Normicro thought it would be a good idea if I drove for a little while on our way to Khachmaz yesterday.  Since we were well beyond the congested streets of Baku, I took him up on the offer.  I jumped into the driver’s seat and realized that it was a manual transmission.  I’m embarrassed to say it, but I don’t really know how to drive a stick.  He was totally nonplussed and said he’d teach me…as we drove.  I made a feeble protest about licenses and police to which he responded, “Police won’t stop a woman.”  So we were off, with me working the pedals and him shifting.  After a little while, he made the observation that our joint driving was like the Kiva – Normicro partnership  J