The village of Aygepar in the Tavush Marz, some 200 kilometers from Yerevan, was founded in 1949 when a tobacco curing plant was established there. Locals claim that about three percent of the tobacco formerly produced in the U.S.S.R. came from their plant. In the late 1950s and early 60s, a winery and a cannery were also established in Aygepar, and people from neighboring Azerbaijan would come to work there as well. "Those people were hard-working, humble, and intelligent; we lived well together," Aygepar resident Arakel Anikyan remembered.

Yenok remembered the names of each of his Azeri co-workers. "There was a nice guy, his name was Gyamad. He was from that village over there, on that mountain. I remember his first name - Gyamad - but can't remember his last name, to be honest. He had five or six children - a big family, but he was very happy. There was also a guy named Diyas, who had fought in World War II. He was from that village over there. He was with us here until the very end of his life."

Industrial and agricultural processing plants were set up in this village on the border, thanks to the abundance of grapes and other fruits in this part of Armenia and neighboring Azerbaijan.

"The Azeris did not produce cognac. We had the equipment but they had more vineyards than we did. They would bring their leftover grapes here and leave them to ferment, then take them away in barrels," Albert Grigoryan, the director of the winery, recalled

Yenok said that during the harvest, when the cannery was working at full capacity, girls would come from Azerbaijan to help. "There was a lot of work and it paid well," Yenok recalled, smiling. He used to hold a management position, but is now the guard of the crumbling remains of the tobacco plant. He watches over the abandoned buildings and empty silos on the factory grounds, and a truck which symbolizes the blockade and the cessation of trade and economic ties between these two neighboring countries.

The driver of the truck, Hrant Chobanyan, from the neighboring village of Karmraghbyur, said, "We would transport tobacco - ready raw material for the factories in Yerevan and other parts of the Soviet Union. We would load the cargo for 30-40 cities at Tovuz in Azerbaijan and send it out."

Borders between different republics within the Soviet Union were a relative concept. There were no border guards, and no customs points stopped drivers when they crossed from one republic to another. People could cross from Armenia to Azerbaijan or vice versa a number of times a day, without presenting any documents to anybody. This is probably how Aygepar flourished, without suffering from the insecurities characteristic of remote locations, despite being more than 200 kilometers from Yerevan.

"It used to be the center of the world. There were jobs. You could decide to go to Yerevan and step outside your house at any time - even late at night - and you would find a car that could get you there. There used to be an airport, which we don't have anymore. We used to have 5-6 Yak-40s flying in and out everyday. You could fly to Yerevan and sell your goods, and make it back home in the same day. This place is a dead end now - there are no roads, and no cars come here," said Arakel Anikyan.

His family survives on his salary and the money his son makes. Both have extremely dangerous jobs. His son is a contracted soldier, and spends around half of each month, 14 days, on the border. Arakel works very near the border, growing grapes on a piece of land he leases. He said that there had been shots fired from the Azerbaijani side a number of times when he was working on his land, but, through the grace of God, he had never been injured.

Arakel Anikyan is one of several people brave enough to lease land near the border and cultivate it. It was a desperate move, but locals could not do anything else. Because Aygepar used to be an industrial location in Soviet times, there was no land to cultivate. Rights to the land surrounding it were distributed among neighboring villages. When land was privatized in 1991, people who lived in Aygepar did not receive any, because it was all given to residents of these neighboring villages. Thus, fields which are fertile and safe are now cultivated by these neighboring villagers, while dangerous pieces of land, near the border, are leased to the residents of Aygepar. Arakel Anikyan said that he hands over all of his harvest, but the money he gets in exchange is barely enough to cover the minimal demands of his family through the winter.

I passed on what I heard from Arakel Anikyan to Andranik Aidinyan, the young administrator of the Aygepar community: "Is it true that Aygepar used to be the center of the world?" He looked at me, surprised, "No, it was no such thing." Unlike the older residents of Aygepar, he did not remember the "wonderful" past, nor did he see any future for his birthplace.

Andranik is 25 years old. He was eight when the Armenian-Azeri conflict began. At age 12, he lost his father, who fell defending Aygepar. Andranik graduated from the Yerevan Engineering University and returned to the village. He was elected community administrator for three years in 2005. Now he is trying his best to make a change in Aygepar.

"We don't need much," he said, "If a rich tycoon were to sell one of his four cars, that money would be enough to solve Aygepar's problems." For example, he explained, fixing the water supply of the village would require around 5 million Armenian drams, or roughly US$ 11,000. From our conversation it became clear to me that implementing such a project in this remote village would have more of a psychological impact than social significance. "People here feel happy when someone comes and expresses interest in their problems," said the young administrator longingly.

To be continued