England had informed us the day before that he would pick us up at about 10:30 and we would be introduced around at The Bank then we would work on getting registered with the Police. Apparently they like to keep tabs on their visitors, mostly making sure that foreigners abiding in a rented house are there with the owners permission. We drive about five minutes in a big square, making three right-hand turns to be able to approach and park on the one-way street that The Bank is on. We enter the administrative office side and are introduced a very polite woman, I will one day know how to pronounce her name. England asks us to sit and visit while he makes out a letter of reference for the police and then we will continue with the proceedings. The bank official speaks pretty good english so we are able to learn a few things about her and The Bank.
The Bank is a Norwegian venture, started about 12 years ago as a humanitarian project in Azerbaijan. It is a micro-finance lending institution, not really a bank as they do not accept any deposits, only loans for small business use. The average loan is between 1,000 and 2,000 manat, thought they are looking to increase this figure. They have about seven-million manat out annually, with a less than one-half of one percent default ratio. It has been a very successful operation, with five branches in Azerbaijan and looking to open a sixth this year.
If everything works as planned this will be my office as well, and I am shown the desk that will be mine. However, England’s plan for me is about 12 hours of actual work and 28 hours of language and culture learning each week for the first year. Then I will be of better value. Part of the job will include visiting each of the sites, so there will be some opportunity to see most of the nation of Azerbaijan.
England is done with his letter and we walk over to the operations side of the bank, and are introduce to more people whose names I will be able to pronounce and spell later, including the president of the branch, a man of great depth and warmth, I look forward to getting to know this fine gentleman and talking with him more.
We are also introduced to “The Lawyer.” A former policeman, Gasham is a formidable presence. 6’0”, 260 lbs, this is someone I am glad to have on our side, his function is collections and conflict resolution. He will be handling the footwork for our registration with the police. He is polite and gregarious, good natured and a little bit loud. He would be completely frightening if you owed him money, I like him immediately. He is called “The Lawyer” because if he cannot resolve the collection through negotiation he will turn you over to be sued in the courts. Gotta love it.
We also meet a delightful woman, the Human Resources manager and general operations manager. She speaks very good english, and she will be helping us as well. Some discussion has been made between the Lawyer, the HR woman and England, and it is concluded that Gasham is going to work on this until such time as our presence is needed, if we can take care of ourselves, we shall reconvene at 2:00 at The Bank.
We departed the bank walking back towards home, stopping at the market, needing toilet paper and sugar. The TP was easy enough to find, but the sugar was not presenting itself in any immediately recognizable fashion, so we resorted to asking. I don’t know if I have stated it before, but we tried this a few times in Estonia to much frustration. The Estonians seemed put out that they should help you discover what you want, almost as if to say, “You don’t speak our language, you must be stupid. Quit bothering me...” The Azeri’s are almost the opposite. We did not know the Azeri word for sugar, nor the Russian word, but, after we got directed to soup, by the time we had four smiling clerks jabbering amongst themselves we got sugar! Everyone was laughing and smiling, and it was an enjoyable exchange.
At two o'clock we met back at the bank and it was determined that we needed to go get photographs for the Police department to have on hand for the registration. So we get in the car with the HR woman (man I wish I could remember her name!) and drive into town to the photo studio. In less than ten minutes we have the requisite photos, with the proper red background, and we get back to the bank. We get to look at some email while we are waiting on the next task, and Beloved has a nice conversation with one of the staff workers. She excuses that her english is “not very good” but it is adequate enough. At 4:30 we are told that some documents have to be acquired from the landlord and we will finish up on Monday.
On the way home we pass another smaller market which has eggs in a box at the front of the store. Another pleasant exchange with a friendly shopkeeper. We go home and have eggs for dinner with a little fresh bread and tea, and decide it is time to learn how to make hot water.
**Disclaimer** Any descriptive terms that follow are not meant to be derogatory, only a depiction of what we are encountering. Please understand that we are adventurers and WE LOVE THIS LIFE and chose it knowing full well what we might encounter. Our tolerance for the out-of-the-ordinary is very high, and we are having a great time! Some people would find this a hardship, we find it a thrill.
The hot water heater is a tank of unknown origin about 15 inches in diameter and five foot tall. The directions we have gotten from The Coffeeman is to light it and wait, but don’t let it run for more than an hour without running hot water in the house or you’ll boil the water in the pipes. There is no thermostat or throttle, just a valve for the gas. It gets lit, we wait, we enjoy a bath and being warm all the way through for the first time in Azerbaijan, and get to bed about 9:30.
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