Mud and More

Photos: Bubbling mud volcano, David with bag booties, petroglyph

Oct. 14,2022-Gobustan, Azerbaijan Some practical matters: Maximum income tax is 22% for the wealthier class. Our guide usually comes in at 18%, but during Covid it was reduced to 5% and he got a government subsidy. Education is free to grade 11. Everyone is entitled to free higher education based on entrance exam scores. Over a 400 means university of their choice anywhere in the world. With a high enough score students get money beyond tuition. Under 200 means trade school. Health care is free, although insurance companies are forming to offer “private” care. Being an oil rich country, Azerbaijan has developed an upper class with disposable income. Baku has many high end designer stores especially on a promenade affectionately called “oil worker street.” We headed SW along the Caspian Sea past oil rigs, wells, and pipelines. Even the resorts and public beaches were encroached on by industry. We changed from our van to private cars to navigate the area around the MUD volcanoes. The wasteland moonscape was strewn with varying sized mounds of MUD at the top of which were bubbling pools of MUD. It’s so oil rich there is oil seeping up from the ground. We were given plastic bags to cover our shoes and proceeded to clamor up the MUD slopes. Other than fighting to stay upright, it was a fun challenge. Our guide and drivers steadied us when needed and showed us pictures of themselves soaking in the therapeutic warm MUD caldrons. I dipped a finger in and found it tepid. “So where are we in relation to other countries?” I asked. “Only 150 miles from Iran,” was Latif’s answer. Oops. Our next stop was an outdoor museum where cave dwellers carved images into rocks. Petroglyphs at least 40,000 years old were reachable by a steep stone pathway. School groups were cavorting up and down the route as we creeked and crawled our way up. Latif was great at pointing out the sketches and it was easier to identify them the more we saw. The most recent carving was by Roman scouts. David’s take was “you’ve seen one bull you’ve seen them all.” Lunch was on our own today, but we never had time for it. Latif fed us dry cookies to tide us over. We pushed on to the carpet museum where we learned we couldn’t afford any of the hand loomed products of Azerbaijan. There are no machine made rugs here. A popular design is “buta.” It probably originated in Persia and is popularly known as “paisley.” It was adopted by Scottish weavers from Renfrewshire Paisley and the name stuck. We heard a nearby group speaking Italian and when Latif greeted them it turned out to be Israelis whose parents were from Italy. The 5 of us were utterly trashed when we got to the hotel at 3:30. Our room hadn’t been cleaned. When I called the desk they wanted to know if I was just reporting it or if I wanted it made up. I settled for new towels. We fitfully napped until we could rationalize going to dinner and navigated the steps that blend into the sidewalks for no apparent reason. On our way to Fountain Square men approached us with menus promoting their restaurants. One told David he was Pakistani. When David wasn’t impressed, he added that he was a Christian. David just said, “I’m not’” and walked on. They’re not overly aggressive, but one guy, thinking we were Israelis, wanted to be sure we knew his mother went to university in Haifa. We chose Mado for no other reason than it was crowded with locals. It’s menu is pictorial and tri-lingual, an Azerbaijani Denny’s expect for the tri-lingual part. We ordered cheese guzleme ( flaky flatbread rolled around filling), a chicken shish kabob seasoned with sumac (I’m loving that spice), and lamb in pomegranate sauce. We hit the streets with more pep in search of a pen. We mimed and gestured our way to a basement gift shop where they had an array of school supplies and my TWO new reliable pens. Success. Tomorrow we squeeze into the van for a 3 hour ride to the northern mountain area of Guba (or Quba ). Toby