Lessons learned in 2020

Well....So here we are. Welcome to 2021. Same shite different year.

I have not written here for so long that I don’t even know where to start. Is a bit like not having sex for a while- you forget how to initiate it. Much simpler if you are doing it all the time.

Anyway. Is not for the lack of stuff to talk about that I have not written. I have plenty of excuses.

 

The Karabakh war distracted me from my usual topics here, and then it felt kind of strange talking about anything else. And there was still quite a lot I felt like saying about that war. And a lot I personally learned from getting so involved emotionally in that remarkable for us, Azeris, moment. 

 

First of all, I realized how easy it is to just get swept up by the nationalistic wave, and how easy it is to hate the other side. I also realized more than ever just how damaging the social media can be for fueling that hatred and spreading lies. I saw even most balanced people on twitter try to remain balanced, and fail. I also was shocked to read such openly biased reports on what I thought were reliable, well-known news outlets. Yes, I know. A flash of obvious. Media these days is a manipulating, lying, cheap whore. That’s the reality. Now, if we all could just remember that, and treat it accordingly, we would not be hurt every time like a naïve young girl who expects honesty from her handsome boyfriend.

 

I also realized that, despite the national pride and incredible joy of winning the territories back, I also felt awfully sad for al those dead soldiers- on both sides. One article in particular left me tearful, as I was reading about the way azeri soldiers kept climbing up the wet rocks, in the rain, getting killed and falling down, while the ones behind them just kept going. That image somehow got imprinted in my mind. I suddenly pictured, with such vivid clarity, how at this very same moment as we, patriotic assholes both in Armenia and Azerbaijan, including those who are not even in their home countries but scattered around the world, from LA to Moscow, sat there in our comfy homes spitting out more and more insults at each other on social media; those young guys, exhausted, scared, cold and wet were climbing the wet rocks in the dark winter night, to get to Shusha. How we had no idea what it must have really been like for them. How we laughed at the Armenian soldiers being afraid of the drones, not knowing where they might strike from. How they laughed at our guys who kept advancing “like robots”, despite getting shot over and over again. There was nothing fucking funny about any of that. We, patriotic assholes, who tucked our own kids in warm beds that night, what right did we have to laugh at and celebrate the deaths of so many other children?

 

So yes, I had still a lot to add, a lot to say about how I felt it was very tragic, despite Azerbaijan winning (and we did win, whatever some skeptics might say) and the joy of getting our lands back. But wars are ugly and tragic- there is nothing revolutionary about that statement, nothing new that I felt I would be adding by writing a whole post about that. The other night, I was at a party hosted by a friend where I suddenly ran into someone i knew had Armenian roots, who was able to smile and drink and chat with me. I was grateful for his composure and his ability to remain civilized. It isn’t easy at the moment for any of us. And it wont be for a while. 

 

Now, moving away from the topic of war…

 

We also were busy having Covid in our family. 

Thankfully, a very mild one, and thankfully the kids somehow mysteriously avoided getting it. Also thankfully, we were over and done with it before Christmas and the New Year holidays, which we then had a chance to enjoy. Just like I was saying above about the lessons I learned from the whole Karabakh war observation, I also learned a lot about getting Covid, and how people react.

 

There were two most memorable moments in this whole Covid experience. First of all, everyone was demanding to know where we had got it from. As if we went to a whorehouse and saw a particular girl, say Lara, who gave us syphilis. And I could tell them to simply avoid Lara, or at least not go to particular whorehouse, and they would be safe. No, guys. Sorry. Covid is not quite like that. I also got a funny feeling that some people were annoyed with us for getting it. “But, but... where were you???” One of the class mums demanded to know. “How come you got it??? How come no one else we know got it?” 

I felt interrogated and accused of perhaps having secretly attended some wild debauchery parties with hundreds if suspicious covid-spreading strangers. Of not being careful enough.

 

I got so tired of answering text messages and phone calls. The sad thing was that the attention or even simply some texts I perhaps expected to receive- from people I thought maybe somewhat cared about me? I never did. 

I had however, received texts from strangers I normally don’t talk to- like unwanted advice (make sure you exercise every day!) depressive prognosis (be careful, you can still have awful complications during the next six months!), insincere offers of help ( well if you need anything, just give us a shout)  

But mostly just curiosity. 

The real help was, I have to say…kind of scarce, and truly appreciated. A neighbor who sent us a soup. A friend who did our groceries shopping every time she went. Another friend, who walked our dog.  I am not the type who expects or feels that anyone at all should be helping me in life, and I get absolutely stunned and eternally grateful every time someone does.

Other than that, I will tell you one thing- if you get Covid, expect judgment, gossip, anger (some neighbors thought our dog should not be allowed to get walks outside) and endless questions about how is it???? how did you get it???

But don’t expect a lot of genuine sympathy or love. People are “covided” up to their eyeballs. They hate it. And they don’t wanna know. They don’t want to be associated with it or be near it, or even feel sorry for you for having it. There is something weird not just about the virus itself, but how people react to it, to the others getting it, to the whole situation, somehow. It is almost like the virus not just caused a lot of sickness and death. It also caused a further division between people- your close friends or relatives suddenly turn out to be conspiracy theorists, non-maskers, anti-vaxers… killing friendships and relationships. This just got to stop.

 

Another thing I learned (there seems to have been a lot of learning last few months, for sure) is that Qatar is surely one of the best places to get sick with Covid. The medical attention we received, the way we were looked after, was literally amazing. 

 

My favorite joke recently has been the word blessed. 

 

As a non-religious person, I found it funny to refer to things as me being blessed all the time. Look at this lovely dog (who is a pain in my arse) aren’t I blessed? I would say.

Or yes, that’s my child shouting in the background. Blessed.

 

But guess what? I guess I am blessed. 

I am so grateful right now that we were here, in Doha, when we got Covid. I am grateful for the sunshine and the beautiful weather we have here now; and for not being locked down. I am grateful for living in a lovely compound where we were able to celebrate New year at a street party, with lots of smiling people around, grateful to be able to still share a drink with friends. Grateful that we still have jobs (well for now, anyway) and that our Covid didn’t kill us. 

 

So yes, even though I joke about being blessed, I kinda am. 

 

Happy New Year to you all, wherever you are. I hope 2021 is going to bring us all peace, and health and some money to buy alcohol with. And some true friends who are there for you when you are sick with Covid.