by Norm Flynn, IRPF President & CEO
I’m often asked about the conditions of traveling in the developing countries of the world. While there are still challenges, especially in parts of Africa and the long-distance travel to the Far East, one needs to go back in time to really experience what the early years of travel were in many of these markets.
One trip that comes to mind was from Kiev, Ukraine to Yerevan, Armenia. The trip was to be the first week in March in 1995. At the time, Armenia was in the throes of being blockaded by both Turkey and Azerbaijan which severely limited the transportation options to get to Armenia. Our travel agent had me booked through Moscow to Yerevan.
When I got to Moscow, I arrived at Sheremetyevo Airport and went to Passport Control. The only English that the Passport Agent could speak was “Visa.” I told them I was simply transferring to another flight to go to Armenia, but he indeed insisted again and again “Visa, Visa.” There was a telephone there, and I asked if I could use it. I was met there by one of the drivers that we had hired in Moscow on a preceding assignment and also had the number of the company that did our transportation arrangements while in Moscow. I took the card and called the English-speaking company and told them that they kept insisting on a Visa. She said that she didn’t believe that that was necessary and asked if I would hand the phone to him. He listened, then hung up, and dialed another number and handed me the telephone. The gentleman on the other line identified himself as a Russian official and in perfect English said to me: “You either get a Visa or we’ll put you on a plane back to Kiev, Ukraine.” It turns out that you do need a Visa if you are going to fly out of another airport and since the transfer was not at Sheremetyevo, but one of the lesser airports called, “Domodedovo” Airport, an approximate 2-hour ride away. I asked him if he could assist me in getting a Visa. He said yes and that the officials there would take me to where I could buy a Visa. I asked him the price and he said $340. I told him that I thought it was outrageous whereupon he said: “Then you want us to book you back to Kiev?” I asked him if he would make the arrangements to help me get the Visa.
Three soldiers came, recovered my suitcase and spoke with the driver of the car who spoke no English. I then went outside of Sheremetyevo, got in a jeep with the three soldiers and my suitcases, went through a wooded area and came to the International Sheremetyevo area. They assisted me in climbing three flights of stairs and I got in line to purchase my Visa. Since I needed what cash I had in hand for my assignment in Armenia, I saw some Japanese buying Visas using credit cards. I used one of my credit cards and they charged back 6% for the use of the credit card which apparently was what American Express was charging them at the time.
But I had missed my next flight but managed to make an arrangement on a flight the following morning. I was warned that the flights to Yerevan on Aeroflot were quite unreliable and that seat assignments generally meant very little. I was warned to get there 2 hours early. I met my driver and he took me to the Aerostar Hotel which was one of the better hotels in Moscow at the time being run by Canadians in a very efficient and livable manner. I had the doorman inform the driver that he should meet me the next morning at 5:00 a.m. as the flight was scheduled to leave at 9:00 a.m. and I was told it was a 2-hour drive from the hotel.
Clearly the worst was yet to come. We arrived at the Domodedovo Airport at 7:00 a.m. While the Sheremetyevo was in reasonably poor shape, this airport was a total disaster. The building was full of cigarette smoke and people were wandering about the area with their arms full of packages to get to Yerevan. There were dogs that I later discovered that were with potential passengers. The driver motioned for me to sit down while he determined where I should go to check in. I sat on my luggage and within 15 minutes, five different obviously poor individuals came up to ask for money. Finally, an airport personnel individual with very limited English invited me to come to a room to wait. The driver and I went to that room. After 30 minutes, we went out to wait to check into the flight. I turned the corner and an amazing number of people were in a queue lined up to check into the flight. I got in the line with the driver and spent an hour and a half moving tediously forward behind a gentleman that I know had 14 bags. The reason I know that is I had nothing else to do but to count them every time he would move them the one or two feet that marked some progress of getting checked into the flight. I finally got to the front of the line with my two bags, and they told the driver that I was overweight. We left the line and went into a second line. When I got there, they wrote down how many rubles I needed. I hadn’t converted any U.S. dollars into rubles so the driver asked for $20 which I gave him and he left to get rubles. Upon his return, I got back in line only to discover that I was four rubles short and had to wait again. Finally I went through Security and Passport Control to go to the flight. My driver, in apparent glee, eagerly waved goodbye to me (after I had paid him the amounts that he was due plus a generous tip). I turned the corner and found two large areas full of people, dogs, packages, bags and various other sundry things that apparently were to go on the plane. I could find no personnel that spoke English so I held up my ticket and kept saying, “Yerevan! Yerevan! Yerevan!” Finally a gentleman came up and said, “Yerevan” showed me his ticket and compared it to mine and they were identical. He motioned to me as though he would take care of me, so we got into another line. There were obviously a considerable number of packages that were going to be flown to Armenia. They included television sets, a car fender and various other large boxed and bagged items. There were dogs milling around with the people ready to get on the plane. When the time came to board, there was a rickety bus outside and I timed it so that I was one of the last people on the bus. That allowed me to be one of the first people getting off the bus when we got to the plane. I went up the stairs as quickly as possible and showed my ticket to a stewardess. She took me to a seat and motioned that that was my seat. I put my hand luggage overhead, which had no doors on it, just open with a cord in front of it. I then watched in amazement as the plane filled up.
Three ladies behind me found their row and lifted the bottom seats and crammed packages under the seats. Then, one at a time, they sat down and the others then put packages on top of them. The last one pulled the packages that were left on top of her so that what remained was a seat full of packages with three heads sticking out. Three gentlemen across the aisle and one row ahead did the same thing except one man would never move. That forced the window-seat passenger to climb over him every time he moved in or out.
I then wondered where all the dogs went and looked under the seat in front of me and saw the head of a dog with a muzzle on it. It was apparently a younger dog with very large paws. When the meal finally came, the owner of the dog took the muzzle off and fed the meal to the dog. The dog then got very excited and climbed underneath the seat and over my lap, his head under my legs, over my legs, until I finally gave him enough room to get out. He ran down the aisle and did not return to my knowledge.
I then leaned back and asked myself the question, “What am I doing here anyway? I don’t know if anyone is going to meet me. I don’t know anything about the country. I could be lost or disappear, and no one would have any idea where I was.” I closed my eyes and got a few fitful minutes of rest.
Upon arrival into Yerevan’s airport which was about the same condition as the one I had left in Moscow, I got through Passport Control and started walking towards the exit. Fortunately I saw a sign with my name on it and was picked up and taken to meet my host. My host was waiting in the restaurant of the hotel where I was to stay. His name was Steve Anlian, an American-born Armenian that over the years I have found to be the hardest working and one of the smartest individuals with whom I have had the pleasure to work. Steve was the Chief of Party for ICMA (International City/County Management Association).
I had to carry a small flashlight that Steve was kind enough to give to me because the power would go off up to 10 times per day and through the evening. That was because of the barricade between Azerbaijan and Turkey, there was a limited supply of electricity and it was extremely unreliable. One evening Steven had me to his home for dinner where I met his mother-in-law and the rest of his family. He walked me back to the hotel and people would pass us in the dark. You could hear them and Steve said they actually believe they can see in the dark. We stood in the central plaza of Yerevan and counted the lights that we could see in a city of upwards to ¾ of a million people. The number was 14 including the clock on the city hall.
Despite the difficulty of the trip and despite the anxiety of getting there, it turned out to be an excellent opportunity to get to meet the young men and women of Armenia and ultimately complete two different projects in that country.
