ARRIVE AS A STRANGER, LEAVE AS A FRIEND

There is a concept known as warm Caucasian hospitality. In Soviet times it became such a clich? that it lost its meaning and its real charm. And Caucasian hospitality is not a cinematic image nurtured by Communist ideology or a desire by the Azerbaijanis to flaunt some kind of nice trait - in Azerbaijan it is not an epithet but a normal mode of behaviour, a way of communication. It is as natural as waking up in the morning to face a new day or drinking a glass of water to quench one's thirst.

I came across this local hospitality on the first day of my assignment in Azerbaijan. By that time I had found out as much about the country as any half-educated person could: geography and history from school, oil derricks, the film "Don't be afraid, I'm with you!" which I had loved since I was a child, Muslim Magomayev, Nizami Gancavi and the Nobel brothers.  My journalist colleagues tried to fill the "gaps" in my knowledge with little bits of "interesting" information: "Are you mad? They'll shoot you; they hate the Russians, why do you want to go there? As for their so-called hospitality, that's just a fairy tale to pull the wool over your eyes." But I'm a stubborn sort of person, and I have to see everything for myself.

In fact, everything turned out exactly the opposite! I realized this in literally the first few hours I was in the country. After we had been settled in and fed I left my colleagues and started to wander around the city. I have this thing where as soon as I arrive in a new city I like to explore on my own. I think that's the only way to "catch" the secrets of an unfamiliar place.

My feet took me to the embankment - I love the sea as if I was born on it. On the embankment on this my first and very cold night in Baku I saw hardly anyone, but at the time this didn't surprise me. Later this did seem strange because everyone strolls along the embankment until late in the evening. But on that first night Baku seemed to give itself to me, intimately, secretly, just me alone, and as I leaned against a rail my head reeled from the rhythmic motion of the sea and the twinkling of the stars. A car passed by, stopped and then turned round. I walked along the embankment. The car was slowly following me. "It's started!" I thought. "They warned me in Moscow not to walk about alone at night!" The car stopped again and on closer inspection it turned out to be a police car. A bearded face protruded from it and asked: "Anything wrong, Miss? No? OK, carry on!" So I walked quietly on. "Well, well!" I chided myself. "When I get home, if anyone tells me that it is dangerous or nasty in Azerbaijan, I'll kill them!" But then I hadn't even seen the tiniest bit of Azerbaijan!

The following day our guide, Ali, told us a really amusing story about what happened to some German journalists. Ali told these Germans, just as he told us, that in Azerbaijan you can go into any home, ask to spend the night and they'll feed you, give you a drink and somewhere to sleep and won't even ask where you come from. They didn't believe him. So Ali offered to carry out an experiment: choose any house you like and knock on the door. So they did, and everything happened just as he predicted! They took the visitors, who spoke a little Russian, into a room, sat them down and began laying the table. The Germans were amazed! They had something to eat and then they were asked to stay the night. Thy refused because it wasn't convenient. They had a hotel booked. They explained everything and made their farewells. To see them on their way they gave them fruit, crumpets and ayran (yogurt-like drink). Then our group came across the same incredible hospitality and each time we were amazed. We were invited into their house by people we met on the street, in the shops or in the museums. We were invited in for a cup of tea, and when we declined, pleading lack of time, they put bags of fruit from their garden through the open windows of our car. The aroma of mandarins and ripe quince is probably still in that car even after its long journey.

Incidentally, foreigners like these Germans have always had the idea that Azerbaijan is a virtual Mecca for tourists and has preserved its hospitality that has been glorified in poetry. Strangers find this exotic, something you find nowhere else in Europe. Not many people travel to Azerbaijan from Russia. They are afraid to, why I don't know. So I decided that when I got back to Russia I would tell everyone that Azerbaijan is a cool place for any tourist (for tourist read guest, because for an Azerbaijani a tourist is a dear guest and everything that goes with it).

Regarding Azerbaijani hospitality, I was reminded about the subject of one of our numerous Russian talk-shows: What is the best way to avoid unexpected visitors or distant relatives coming to Moscow for shopping or on business? The heroes of this programme passionately, literally effusively shared their tricks and ruses: Put out travel bags to show that the owners are on the point of going away; carefully ease your visitors out of the apartment on various pretexts; use children - arrange for them to play up and be naughty so that the visitors just have to leave a house with such unruly children. All these crafty tricks are explained by the fact that visitors are a nuisance, they take up valuable time, it costs a lot of money to put up guests, and so on. I listened to all this with a feeling of disgust for those taking part in the programme. In Azerbaijan this would have caused a barrage of angry phone calls, letters and even rotten tomatoes being thrown at television screens.

Yes, such a subject would never be aired on Azerbaijani television! Then there was a call to the studio. Some woman told how she visited Baku and was given such a warm welcome and was so well looked after and made to feel at home. "Shame on you!" she said. "That was a disgraceful subject for a programme, aren't you ashamed of yourselves? To seriously discuss how to get rid of visitors - that is low and despicable! Take your example from Azerbaijan - there they respect and value visitors because good and charitable people live there." Naturally, they wouldn't allow her to go on and the call was "cut off".

Later, when I was already living in Baku and had become an accepted "Azerbaijanophile" among my colleagues, I began to study the mentality of the Azerbaijanis and their local customs, and also where the origins of their hospitality lie, more closely and more seriously. These origins go back quite a long way. This is one story that explains the origins of this hospitality. It is said that the Prophet Muhammad told people: "I am going away but I shall return. But because I am able to assume the guise of any person, you may see me as you wish, even as a pilgrim wandering along the road looking for somewhere to spend the night." So since then to a Muslim any guest is very dear: but what if suddenly this is the Prophet himself? For a guest the last chicken may be slaughtered, a guest will be placed on the most revered chair at the table and he may be placed in the lightest and warmest room and given the best bed. And it doesn't matter if this man is an acquaintance or simply a passer-by. Yes, the parable about the Prophet may be true, but it seems to me this is just a basis, and later kindness and hospitality became unrecognizable traits of the nation simply because these traits are more characteristic of the Azerbaijanis. These are incredibly peace-loving and gentle people, who even speak about a painful ethnic conflict albeit with profound bitterness, but without aggression, properly and intelligently.

Other origins of this hospitality lie in the country's climatic and geographical conditions. Throughout the centuries Azerbaijanis have always offered shelter to travellers who have lost their way or been cut adrift from their caravan. In the harsh mountainous conditions to shut out a traveller meant sentencing him to death. Furthermore, the traveller was a bearer of information, especially in ancient times when such means of communication we have now did not exist. The Azerbaijanis would build special refuges in the mountain passes for weary or lost travellers where they would leave food, firewood and bedding. These refuges have to this day been preserved in the mountains of Azerbaijan as monuments. This shows that Azerbaijanis would show hospitality not only in their own homes but outside, too.

The famous Azerbaijani epic "The Book of My Grandfather Gorgud" contains the sentence: "Houses where there are no visitors should be pulled down." This became a kind of proverb and law. The great Azerbaijani poet Fizuli wrote about this: "If a visitor comes to my table I shall not feel ashamed, whether he is a Turk, an Arab or from another religion." The incredible hospitality of the Azerbaijanis was so well known throughout the Near East and in neighbouring countries that it was reflected in the reminiscences of travellers and in the literary works of neighbouring peoples. Alexander Dumas, who visited the countries of the Caucasus, left numerous testimonies of Azerbaijani hospitality, and moreover, he noted that it was incomparably warmer than the hospitality in the homes of Tiflis and Derbent.

Another testimony to Azerbaijani hospitality was the presence in the house of bedding which was much more than members of the family would need, however small a house might be. 

Curiously, guests in Azerbaijan have their own classification - they are divided into ordinary strangers, relatives, friends, neighbours and officials. The customs for receiving each group were different: valuable rugs would not, of course, be laid out for neighbours, but they were entertained just as royally and presented with gifts when they left.

Guests were fed in accordance with certain customs, whose roots lay deep in antiquity. It was believed that a guest should be entertained with the best dishes - dainty sweetmeats, various kinds of shashlik and, of course, pilaw. Pilaw could be various: with meat, vegetables or fruit. Spirits were excluded. Islam forbids spirit drinks - this is written in the Koran. (Nowadays, of course, few pay attention to this ban - after all, it is a secular country).

In Azerbaijan - both in the past and now - there is a custom whereby there is a sequence for relatives and neighbours of the householder inviting guests. In the past, if for some reason the owner of the house was absent, an arriving guest would be received by the wife or senior male in the house.

It was considered proper behaviour, moreover it was the custom, that neighbours of the owner would arrive for a party where a guest was staying. There would be a long, deep general conversation that could go on for about three or four hours. After all, a guest was the bearer of news and general information.

Hospitality has been reflected in Azerbaijani proverbs and sayings. For example: "A hospitable man's table is never depleted", "I will be a sacrifice of the guest and the road which brought him" (i.e. I am prepared to give all I have to my guest), "A house without a guest is like a mill without water", "A guest arrives alone but is seen off by the owner", "Don't wait to be invited, but don't push out uninvited guests", "Don't say 'eat' to a guest (i.e. this is understood), "The hand that gives is always higher than the hand that takes", "A child decorates the home - a guest decorates the table", and so on. Incidentally, there are probably more sayings about hospitality in Azerbaijan than about anything else. And that also says a lot!