FBIS3-23807 "jpusr021___94014"
FBIS-USR-94-021 Document Type:JPRS Document Title:
FBIS Report: Central Eurasia 4 March 1994 CAUCASUS ARMENIA

Difficult Living Conditions of Ordinary Armenians Detailed

944K0723A Moscow IZVESTIYA in Russian 12 Feb 94 p 4 944K0723A Moscow IZVESTIYA Language: Russian Article Type:CSO [Article by Sergey Bablumyan and Valeriy Konovalov, IZVESTIYA: "Between the Dram and a Tragedy"] [Text] What keeps a man freezing in the street warm? The thought of a warm apartment, hot shower, and warm bed waiting for him. In Yerevan these days, everything is in reverse. It is depressing to return home from the frosty street. As to a cold bed, just the thought of it gives one the shivers. People here do not undress when they go to bed--on the contrary, they put on as many clothes as possible. Even a knit cap does not quite protect one from the feel of an icy pillow. People feel much colder in apartments at night than during the day in the street. And this is not just for a day or two. A constant feeling of hunger is intolerable precisely because it is constant. Many people here, including one of the authors of this article, have bluish, slightly swollen hands; even a slightly below freezing temperature causes them to swell and darken. It is not frostbite but the consequence of constant exposure. You acquire this condition in your apartment, not on the street. Children and the elderly are the worst off, of course. Everybody in Armenia suffers, however, in their own way: the ordinary citizen, the family, the enterprise... And not just from the cold.
A 17-point Earthquake Is No Longer Frightening
Only one person was working at the gigantic Masis Footwear Association in the middle of the weekday: General Director Rudolf Arutyunyan. In a gloomy mood, he was sitting in a spacious cold office, doing calculations that were making him even gloomier. Until very recently, nobody ever saw him like this, and could not even imagine it. Energetic, self-assured seemingly under any circumstances--this was the familiar image of him. The enterprise, whose fame transcended the borders of Armenia, has now been idle for weeks. The entire collective has been sent on compulsory leave--first for last year, and immediately afterward--for the current one. "First, we have no raw material..." explained Arutyunyan. One could stop right there, as in a famous joke about the absence of bullets, but the point is that there is no one single problem facing Masis and Arutyunyan which, had it been solved, could make the situation easier. Yes, the leather tanning plant, idled because of the scheduled cut-off of electricity, will get back on line any moment now, and with this leather one could somehow resume making footwear. But even if a miracle happened and they began to get supply of lasts from Armavir, bottom parts for children's shoes from Chisinau, rubber from Ukraine, raw material and semifinished components from Kursk, Belarus, and Italy, how are they to pay for these supplies; how to transport the finished product; how to pay for incredibly expensive power and fuel? A few years ago Masis produced 23 million pairs of excellent footwear a year, of which only 7 million remained in Armenia while the rest were exported. Right before the stoppage of production, annual output amounted to 5 million pairs, and now even this level is unlikely to be achieved. Arutyunyan adds up what the steam from the boiler house will cost the enterprise, and how much transportation costs would be; the bottom line is that there is no way to make ends meet, and the enterprise cannot afford to operate at a loss. What makes it even more painful for the director to suffer through inaction and lack of prospects is that he has at his disposal state-of-the-art equipment, as well as highly skilled world-class specialists and craftsmen. The reputation of Armenian footwear makers--as well as, by the way, clothes and rug makers--is high around the world. The largest foreign firms used to gladly enter into cooperation with local enterprises, deliver machinery and semifinished products, and create joint enterprises. The Masis trademark, for instance, was well known and commanded respect in the world market. Now all this is in the past. "Of 138 large enterprises in our sector, only 38 are operating now," Minister of Light Industry Rudolf Teymurazyan told us. "Economic conditions make normal production impossible. Imagine, for instance, an eight- or nine-point earthquake; at this level a city is totally destroyed and the population dies; if the force of the earthquake keeps increasing and reaches, for instance, 17 points, it is not going to do any more damage than it already has. This analogy can be applied to our financial situation. Prices have shot into outer space. The gap between the level of production costs and wages, the cost of fuel and power, and the cost of transportation, on the one hand, and potential earnings on the other may now increase to any size without changing the situation.
What Am I To Buy With My Salary: Toothpaste or 10 Eggs?
Putting together a family budget resembles the Masis director's sad calculations. The minimum wage in Armenia is 110 drams; the average wage is 250 drams. The difference between them, however, much as between pensions and allowances on one hand and the president's salary on the other, is not that tangible. Prices are out of reach in relation to any local income. With the level of prices and the exchange rate, 100 drams correspond to approximately one dollar. That is, most people here have a monthly income in the range of $1.5-3. In the stores, and it is almost the same in farmers markets, a kilogram of beef costs 260 drams; butter--350-500 drams; sugar--90; onions--100-150; cheese--350; and sausage--450; a bottle of vodka costs 600 drams, champaign--800; a pack of cigarettes--between 10 (Astra) and 60 (Magna) drams; a tube of toothpaste--100; a bar of household soap--50; and 10 eggs--100 drams. So, after deducting apartment rent and the cost of public transportation, for one monthly salary one can buy here two packs of cigarettes, or 10 eggs, a tube of toothpaste, or 300 g of butter... (Let us note in parentheses that here, too--although not as frequently as in Moscow--one can see people who have enough money to buy any food or other goods in expensive stores, and even patronize the rare casinos and restaurants. There are, of course, members of various sorts of mafia among them, which is tenacious everywhere, but for the most part they are people who do business outside Armenia, or their relatives. In Armenia itself it is almost impossible to operate a normal business now--limited and costly communications eat up any earnings.) So, how do most people live, or rather, survive? For most, the only affordable items are probably fish and bread, which is sold by coupons--350 g per person a day for half a dram. Potatoes used to be relatively cheap, but lately their prices have gone up considerably, and now they cost as much as oranges. This is the meager and monotonous ration that has now replaced the traditionally abundant Armenian table in most families. There is one more expense item, as necessary as it is burdensome: candles and kerosene.
You Want To Build a House--Build a Hospital Next To It
It is difficult to get used to cold and hunger, but people have no choice. They have lived without heating for so long that children who are beginning to talk do not know what the radiators in the apartment are for. Hot showers and baths are science fiction here. An attractive woman with traces of past grooming confessed to us that Whiskas advertising simply irritates her, but when she sees shampoo and bubble bath on the screen she gets hysterical. Actually, watching television is a rare pastime for an Armenian these days. Electricity in apartments is turned on for an hour and a half a day. At least in the past the utility kept the schedule of "rolling switch-on" by microrayon; people could prepare for it and plan things in advance. Now the schedule is off quite frequently, and nobody knows when the lights will come on. They live in constant readiness for a sudden two-hour-long flash, during which you have to manage to accomplish everything: cook food, do the laundry, recharge a battery--for those who have one, heat water... Television is certainly not a priority at such moments. People have to make do with candles and kerosene cookers. One candle costs 15 drams; a liter of kerosene--120 drams (as a reminder--the average monthly salary is 250 drams). Naturally, these sources are used only when absolutely necessary. Everything that burns goes for heating, including books. It is rare to see a building entrance in Yerevan these days that has a door--they have all been used up as fuel. One increasingly sees stumps in place of trees in the city. Lately, so-called "illegal plug-ins" have become widespread. All sorts of ingenious and sometimes very original devices enable city residents to plug into power lines supplying facilities that have a regular supply of power. A local joke: A man begins to build a house for himself, and at the same time a hospital next to it. He is asked: "But why do you need a hospital?" "For an `illegal plug-in'..." Those who have left temporarily or for good to live in more hospitable places take a long time to shed the habits of Yerevan life. They take matches with them when they take a bath or visit a bathroom--to light a candle. They blow at a table lamp before going to bed. They jump when the lights are turned on in the apartment... There are many who are leaving. First and foremost, they try to get the children out--not only to normal living conditions but also to an education. Schools and colleges are closed--at this point until spring. The fate of an entire generation--which means the nation's future--is in jeopardy.

It Is Cheaper To Stay Home Than Work, But Getting Divorced Is the Best

If early retirement is an option, many leave work. The difference between any kind of pay, as we noted above, is of little substance, and when you stay home you save energy and money by eliminating transportation costs. Pensions, unemployment benefits, and allowances for families with many children and single mothers are distributed through the Ministry of Labor and Social Security Services. Minister Ashot Esayan told us how meticulously this work is performed; he also told us that lately his staff have begun to uncover instances of fictitious divorces for the purpose of claiming single mother benefit. Charitable aid coming to Armenia through various channels also is concentrated in this ministry and distributed by it. This is not an easy task, not only because there is not enough for everyone, but also because communications with the outside world are difficult. For instance, they received a shipment of kerosene cookers from the United States, but have not been able to get the accompanying kerosene out of Batimu. However, even moral support is of great significance here. Here, by the way, is the account number where monetary aid may be sent. Yerevan, Myasnikyanskiy State Commercial Bank, 141 635.
Not Only Unhappy Families Are Unhappy in Their Own Way
One cannot explain Armenia's current troubles by the preponderance or the legacy of the party nomenklatura. Its members have been long removed from power. And the reforms and democratization initially proceeded here without delay and aggressively. Redistribution of land and decollectivization, for instance, were implemented earlier and on a larger scale than in other former Union republics. But first an earthquake, and then Karabakh, the confrontation with Azerbaijan, and then destabilization in neighboring Georgia became factors that overrode everything else. Separation from the ruble zone has affected Armenia more painfully than others. The national currency--the dram--is not becoming a full-fledged currency and is hampering opportunities both for enterprises and commercial traders. Is a free market and liberalization in the economy possible at all in this situation? Would it not be more logical, as some opposition members suggest, to go the opposite way--tighten the administrative reins and centralize all resources and distribution channels? "No," Armenian Prime Minister Grant Bagratyan told us. "Even in these conditions a market economy is much more viable. Expensive as food is, it is still available--and only because the main landowner is the private farmer rather than kolkhozes. We are now beginning privatization in other economic spheres as well. We will stop the production decline; as to the dram's exchange rate in relation to the dollar, we have already stabilized it. Of course, the situation in general is so hard for the populace that people's attitude toward the government in these circumstances cannot be positive. It is hard to be loved in these conditions. The rating of the government, and of the president, has dropped perceptively lately. Many people who just recently were the president's ardent supporters now criticize him sharply. People are irritated both by the optimism frequently displayed by the prime minister and the extreme reserve in forecasts that has been lately characteristic of the president. "How could Levon say something like this on New Year's Eve?!" we heard more than once. "As if it is not enough that families had such a meager holiday meal on the table--then the president added insult to injury by saying that it may get worse. How can it get any worse?" While there is a perceptible shift in society's attitude toward the president and the government--despite the fact that there are no serious alternative forces in sight, because the room for maneuver in politics and economics is too small--when it comes to the question of Karabakh, the position remains the same and quite unshakeable. Nobody here questions the fight to take Nagorno-Karabakh from Azerbaijan, and the solidarity with Karabakh Armenians remains across the board and sincere. Armenian Minister of Defense Serzh Sarkisyan is a civilian, a philologist by education. He fought in Karabakh, however, and has a reputation as a talented military commander. He reasserted to us that the Armenian army is not engaged in combat operations, but it is unthinkable to leave Karabakh residents without support. By the way, his own wife and children live in Stepanakert. There is one more point on which probably all parties, movements, and all strata of society agree--the necessity to strengthen ties with Russia, the hopes for Russian aid. Many are inclined to idealize the situation in Russian politics and the economy--the difference in the standard of living and the stability of the two countries' currencies is just too great.
How Long Can One Keep Pushing a Trolley Bus?
Peasants are today on much more solid ground than urban residents. We saw proof of this in Artashatskiy Rayon. As everywhere in Armenia, land here is mostly divided among individual owners. All in all there are more than 300,000 private farms in the country--considerably more than in immense Russia. These farms are small--between one and 10 hectares. However, for such traditional sectors as viticulture and horticulture, this size is optimal. Despite the high cost of fuel, fertilizer, and manufactured feed concentrates, as well as the general economic crisis, harvest yields are high. The yield of potatoes last year, for instance, amounted to 420,000 tonnes--a record over the past 10 years. The decline in the size of livestock herd has been halted. The problem right now is not production but distribution of agricultural output. In the same Artashatskiy Rayon, for instance, which is located quite close to Yerevan, it is still too costly for peasants to bring produce for sale in the capital. This is precisely why, as Minister of Agriculture Ashot Voskanyan told us, the ministry also shifted from production management to organizing services for peasants, distributing their output, and pricing policy. One way or the other, at least the countryside feeds itself well. Only a small part of the republic's population live there, however--most live in Yerevan and other major cities. But private farming's potential is sufficient to provide for all urban residents. And not only with respect to foodstuffs. This is quite noticeable if one looks at enterprises processing local agricultural output. Director of the Aygorg rug factory Eduard Agadzhanov told us that since decollectivization to this day the problem of wool procurement has ceased to be a problem for him altogether. Private suppliers are much more reliable and provide better quality than state suppliers. There is a score of enterprises of completely different specializations that have been able to find for themselves a way out of the incredibly difficult conditions and develop production. The Bazalt defense plant is setting up production of trolley buses and furniture; the famous Ararat cognac factory is expanding its distribution market; bakery plant No. 4 has doubled the output of bread... Nevertheless, the decline in the Armenian economy is serious and painful. It is not easy to get reliable statistics in this respect in Armenia itself: some data are classified, others differ tremendously from one another, or are frankly unrealistic. According to experts of the Moscow center SovEcon, the picture looks like this: According to preliminary estimates the gross domestic product for last year will amount to only 38 percent of the 1990 level, while in Russia, for instance, it will amount to 57.6 percent, in neighboring Azerbaijan--48 percent, and in the CIS as a whole--55.5 percent; the volume of industrial production--30.5 percent, in agriculture--55 percent, and in construction--20 percent. In all other indicators Armenia is also considerably behind both Russia and the CIS. Meanwhile, outside the gates of even relatively well-to-do enterprises there are streets with very few cars, because gasoline is very expensive. Streets down which where one sees people dragging bundles of firewood and brushwood. Here and there one gets a glimpse of a scene that would be incomprehensible, for instance, to a Muscovite: Passengers are pushing a trolley bus, and only this way getting through what is quite often a considerable part of the route going through a microrayon where the electricity has been turned off--to an area where there is light.