A trip to Bahadur's village

A trip to Bahadur's village

Bahadur kicked the accelerator to overtake a heavy truck, its dumper bucket overflowing with tightly stacked sandstone blocks. "Every day one thousand machines go to Baku, Baku! he exclaimed indicating the convoy of trucks ahead. "Business, business very good he added, flashing his gold teeth when he smiled. Next they were following a truck carrying gravel, a stream of pebbles trickling off the back onto the road.
"I'm glad I'm not riding a bicycle along this road Jim said. It was hot in the car, no air conditioning in a Russian made Zhiguli. Now they were passing an oil field, nodding donkeys pumping slowly against a backdrop of desert outcrops. Bahadur swerved by the last of the trucks in the convoy and drove fast, intently watching the road ahead for potholes or other obstacles. "Watch out! Jim shouted as he spotted a cow walking directly into the road. Amazingly, as if obeying some invisible road safety order, the cow halted on the verge allowing the car to speed past.
Earlier as they drove out of Baku's dusty and sprawling suburbs, evidence of the massive building boom in the capital was everywhere to see. Out of six million people living in Azerbaijan, one million live in the capital. Anyone with access to money is having a house built, of sandstone blocks and tiled roofs for the affluent, cement breeze blocks and a tin roof for the less well off..
The journey took them over a bridge spanning a wide river bed. This is the source of aggregate for the building boom in the capital. Tons of pebbles lying in the dry bed are scraped up by machines and filtered into sagging dumper lorries which crawl up to the main road then drive the 150 kilometres south to Baku.
Outside Quba town Bahadur pointed out the new government-built "Olympic sports centre: a large glass building surrounded by basketball courts. On one side are rows of bungalows where any international competitors would be accommodated. Jim had heard about this complex, one of several built by an Austrian firm on the command of President Ilham Aliyev when he was chief of the Azerbaijan Olympic Committee. The project was generally viewed by the international community in Baku as a ridiculously expensive white elephant. Bahadur gestured towards the bungalows "Very good cottage, international quality! My project: same quality!" he grinned. Jim's heart sank hen he heard this. The chalets in the sports complex are compact, faced in dark red cladding with pointed roofs of red tiles. Each unit boasts an air conditioning unit and TV satellite dish. Jim had never been inside but had heard they were decorated with marble floors and gilt chandeliers. Most of the time the Olympic complex is unused, no volleyball game has ever been played on the pitch provided and the cottages are empty and accumulating dust. They cost millions.
A hatless man rode by on an old Russian Ural motorcycle and sidecar combination. Jim pointed appreciatively. "Nice old motorcycle he said. Bahadur stared back with a horrified expression: "Jim, you like old things, always old train, old car, old motorbike!
Ahead, a traffic policeman stood waving a red signal wand. As Bahadur approached the sop stepped into the road and signalled for Bahadur to stop, but ignoring the instruction he drove on. "No problem! he said airily, accelerating. However, a couple of miles later, a traffic police car nosed up behind and an order to stop came over a loudspeaker. Bahadur pulled over with an exasperated look. "You stay he said to Jim and climbed out to discuss matters with the patrolmen.
"No problem! he announced when he returned five minutes later brandishing his mobile. "I telephone my friend, he knows transport minister, very good! Off they drove again.