This certianly is one of the more confusing areas of conflict in the world. Azerbaijan lies on the west coast of the caspian sea, north of Iran. A former member of the Soviet Bloc, it became a secular muslim Republic after the USSR breakup. This would be yet another unimportant and unnoticed corner of the world were it not for the ethnic conflict between Azerbaijan and Armenia, its neighbor to the west. Since 1988, thousands have been killed in violence from both parties until a ceasefire in 1992. Tensions remain high, because both countries traditionally lay claim to a small section of land known as Nagorno Karabakh, hemmed in by Azerbi borders, but coming tantalizingly close to the Armenia. Often referred to as NK, Nagorno Karabakh has a high concentration of Armenians, and consequently is allied with them. NK is functionally a piece of Armenia balooning into Azerbaijan, connected by a fifteen mile passage termed the Lachin Corridor. Armenians recently occupied a portion of Azerbi territory, including all of NK. When the new president of Azerbaijan was elected, He wasted no time, immediately demanding the return of all land within Azerbi borders. When Armenia refused, He sent in the military. After a few skirmishes, The armenians were pushed out of NK.
posted by Daniel 10.6.03

Who am I?
I prop myself up and rub my face roughly with the back of my arm. It still burns. I am only half coherent, and my ears are ringing. The air is thick and dead, and the window lets in barely enough duffuse dusk glow to make out my own body, lying still on this aged bed. Reality rushes in to fill the empty silence. Unwelcome details return to their normal positions in my head. I drop my head down again and close my eyes. You only notice how sore you are when you think about it, really. No use doing that. I don't smoke anymore, pushing the thought away. I think of her for a moment. I catch myself and shake my head to banish that thought too. The shortened day is still too long. Outside, the black branches of a naked tree sways stiffly against the blank gray sky. I may not survive tomorrow, but that doesn't seem to matter. I think I'm more dead than alive anyway. I reach automatically for my lighter. My thumb finds it's familiar position and flicks. There is no breeze, the cigarette lights easily. I hold it between my fingers for a moment, then stub it out in the ashtray on the table beside the bed. I flick on the small lamp, revealing the dull green hand plastered walls. I pull aside the sturdy wooden chair and sit down at the table, retrieving my breifcase from underneath and clicking it open. I pull out the string tied manila envelope and a map, and unfold it.
posted by Daniel 9.4.03