WORLD ARMENIAN CONGRESS APPROVES $100,000 TO UNION OF WRITERS OF ARMENIA
ArmInfo News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
World Armenian Congress (WAC) has approved $100,000 to the Union
of Writers of Armenia (UWA). The amount will be transferred to the
accounts of the Writers Fund in three native banks, Levon Ananyan,
UWA Chairman, said at a press conference, Monday.
He said the UWA Writers Fund has $200,000 at present. $40,000 will be
spent annually to satisfy the needs of native writers, in particular,
for foundation of a special prize fund, publication of books, and a
5,000 AMD rise in the pensions of the writers above 65 (who number
160 people at UWA).
In his speech, WAC President Ara Abrahamyan stressed the importance
of intellectuals in an independent state and in education of new
generation. “We shall do our best to contribute to writers. $100,000
this year, another $50,000 in 2007. We understand that it is not
enough for the existing problems. However, we shall try to help them,”
A. Abrahamyan said. He added that Levon Ananyan was awarded the Order
of the Union of Armenians of Russia – Silver Cross on the occasion
of his 60th anniversary.

EUROPEAN ARMENIANS COLLECTED 1.1 MLN EUR FOR ARTSAKH
ArmInfo News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
According to the preliminary results of the European phonoton held on
November 16-19, 1.1 mln EUR were collected for restoring the Hadrut
region of the Nagorno-Karabakh Republic under the “Revival of Artsakh”
program, the press-service of the “Hayastan” All-Armenian Fund told
an ArmInfo correspondent.
According to the source, as a result of the phonoton held in Armenia
on November 15-17, the employees of the Fund called about 1.3 thousand
large and small companies. Armenian entrepreneurs made about a 35 mln
AMD ($93 thousand) donation, 29 mln AMD of which have already been
transferred as against 27 mln AMD in 2005. At the moment, about 20
mln AMD are collected also in Karabakh. To remind, the “Telethon-2006”
will be held in Los Angeles on November 23, it will be broadcast all
over the world. To note, Armenians of Belgium participated in the
phonoton for the first time.

THE CHESS PLAYER
by Henrichs, Bertina
Queen’s Quarterly
Fall 2006
Pg. 461 Vol. 113 No. 3 ISSN: 0033-6041
IT WAS the beginning of the summer. As usual, Eleni climbed the small
hill that separated the Hotel Dionysus from the town centre at the
hour when the sun was just appearing over the horizon.
The hill, a sandy and pockmarked scrubland, offered an exceptional
view over the Mediterranean and the gate of the Temple of Apollo.
That remnant of antiquity, perhaps conceived on too grand a scale,
had remained unfinished. And so its gigantic gate, at the top of a
tiny promontory attached to Naxos, opened only onto the sea and the
sky. In the evenings, rather than offering shelter to Apollo, it
welcomed god for god – the setting sun, adored by dazzled travellers.
Apollo, more discreet in his earthly manifestations, would no
doubt have called only a select few initiates to his presence. The
imperfection of the temple was thus not a matter for regret, but
instead conferred a strange air of mystery upon this stern land laid
down in the Aegean.
Eleni had no time for the spectacle playing itself out behind her.
She knew it only too well. Her whole life had been regimented by the
free display, by its changing audience, an incessant flux of nomads,
coming from far away, returning to distant places.
That morning the hill was especially silent. The wind, which had risen
during the night, blew hard and covered up the little morning sounds
coming from the town. Eleni only heard the crunch of pebbles under
her feet, and the panting of a wandering dog, sniffing here and there
in hopes of unearthing its breakfast. Finds were scarce, and it wore
a sulky look, which made Eleni smile. She promised herself that she
would bring it a bit of bread that she would gather from the hotel’s
breakfast scraps.
ELENI arrived in the lobby of the Dionysus at ten past six, greeted
with a cheerful “Kalimera, Eleni. Ti kanis?” The polite little formula
was uttered in a strong voice and with such sincerity that a naïve
observer might have taken the meeting as a warm reunion after a long
absence. But Maria, the proprietor, a woman in her sixties of engaging
character, simply had the habit of greeting her acquaintances that
way, straining the good humour a little. Thus from the first she
swept away any suggestion of grumpiness, which she tolerated only in
her customers. And even then, she pretended not to notice, suddenly
speaking English much less fluently than usual. Hard work under a
crushing sun in a sulky mood was a vice for which she felt too old. As
usual, she offered Eleni a coffee before the latter’s rounds through
the string of rooms, dressed in her pistachio green work blouse.
Eleni knew all the movements by heart and performed them mechanically,
one after the other, in their immutable order. Twenty rooms, forty
beds, eighty white towels; the ashtrays to empty varied in number.
Eleni had become a chambermaid as others become waitresses or
cashiers. The daughter of poor peasants from the mountainous Halki
region, she had left school at fifteen and taken the first job in
town she had been offered. It was, by chance, as a chambermaid. Three
years later she had married Panis, the elder by five years, who worked
at his father’s garage on the outskirts of town. That marriage had
been her hour of glory. Every girl on Naxos had envied her the boy
with the thick hair and deep gaze. They had two children, Dimitria
and Yannis. Even after she became a mother Eleni had carried on with
her job, because she liked the work that allowed her to daydream and
make contact with the wider world.
Over the years she had picked up a good knowledge of the clientele.
She could easily guess the tourists’ nationality by their style of
dress. Sometimes she entertained herself by assigning the rooms she
took care of to the guests eating breakfast in the dining room. She
would sometimes bet an ouzo or a glass of white wine. She was seldom
wrong.
Room nineteen done, she moved on to seventeen. The rooms needed to be
tidied according to the rhythm of the morning departures. She therefore
had to watch for doors opening while giving the illusion that she
scarcely noticed the comings and goings of the guests, emperors for
a day or a week. Eleni was well versed in the art of appearing in the
hallways like a perky ghost, whose existence was forgotten the moment
she was out of sight. She seemed to be a member of a ballet troupe
in a garish costume, handling her awkward tools gracefully. This
power of suggestion was all the more remarkable because for many
years her appearance had had nothing of the athletic. Too much rich
food, two pregnancies and the boredom of island winters had made of
her a 42-year-old woman with no particular sparkle, neither old nor
young. She had reached that moment in life that some are pleased to
call the flower of age, for want of anything better or perhaps as
encouragement. The age squeezed between aging parents and adolescent
children, the floating age at which men no longer look back on its
passing and women no longer envied it anything. But Eleni was not a
woman to lament facts over which she had no control.
She had a sort of instinctive wisdom, gathered in the innumerable
rooms whose virginity she had restored. The traces of life in all its
guises she prudishly erased. Spatters of blood, semen, wine and urine
disappeared under her sober care. She did not attach words to the
things she saw appear and disappear. She did not seriously believe in
the magical power of enunciation, of evocation and speculation. For
her, terms, however precise, had never changed anything in the
immutable order of the world. She thought of them as a pastime, at
most. On Naxos, words came and went with travellers and the sea in
eternal flux.
Early on, Eleni had reconciled herself to the idea that nothing really
belonged to her, neither things nor beings. Even Panis, her husband,
belonged to her as much as to the men he met in cafes, to backgammon
and to the women he desired from time to time. It was the secret law
of things. Only the mad would venture to fight the ebb and flow of
the sea, she often thought.
Since the previous evening, number seventeen had been occupied by a
French couple. Eleni had seen them arrive: joyful thirty-somethings,
wearing exuberant and colourful clothes.
Stepping into the sun-drenched room, she smiled. People from the North,
delighted by the clarity of daylight, never thought of closing the
shutters. They knew no tight and constant relationship with heat.
During their stay on the island they would soak up their fill, which
left them panting in the hotel lobby, stunned but happy lobsters.
Some pushed their intoxicating worship to the point of losing
consciousness, a wild trance nearer to obscure cults than to the
regimented world from which they came.
Eleni had learned from her youth that the luminous body was not a
playful god, but rather a master over life and death just as much as
the sea and the reefs, destiny and fate.
After a quick glance to size up the amount of work, she moved toward
the bathroom. She cleaned the sink, the shower, the floor, and emptied
the waste bin. She straightened up and remained motionless for a
while to catch her breath. Then she threw the dirty towels into a
big basket where they joined their moist companions.
Eleni lovingly lined up the beauty products with misty names in the
language she liked above all others that slipped onto the island:
French. A little bottle on the shelf caught her attention. She
took it in her hand, allowed herself to open it and breathed in the
peppery fragrance that emerged. She smiled as she carefully closed
the tiny bottle.
She only knew three expressions in French – bonjour, merci, and au
revoir- which were enough for the uses she put them to.
Her linguistic approach was exclusively based on sound. Sometimes
she listened to the murmur in the dining room. It seemed to her that
that language, and indeed this was its main attraction, was utterly
lacking in seriousness. To Eleni’s ears, it had to anchor in the
earth. Its words danced across a polished floor, performing little
arabesques and curtsies, bowing to each other, raising invisible hats
amid a rustle of satin and tulle. The soft slides must indeed have
precise meanings, designate real things, as Eleni acknowledged, and
it was precisely that paradox that seemed so wonderful to her. Such
a winged deployment of opera dancers to ask for salt or the time –
isn’t that the height of luxury?
On television she had seen several programs about Paris, and each time
she had felt a sort of tightening at the heart. A slightly painful
region in the chest, brought about by a rendezvous made long ago but
never kept, for fear of the outcome.
Eleni was not given to such longings. But Paris was an exception. Her
dreamy passion had indeed remained completely unavowed. It was her
secret garden.
As she followed the course of her thought, she stepped into the room.
She emptied the ashtrays and picked up bits of paper before sweeping
her broom amid the luggage and things spread about.
She had finished her sweeping and made the bed when a thought crossed
her mind. She would send a little salute to the Parisians. She took the
young woman’s embroidered nightdress, tightly gathered in the waist,
and laid it out delicately on the bed. Thus displayed, it recovered
its look of desirable merchandise, worthy of the suggested mannequin
that would wear it.
ELENI spent the evening with her daughter Dimitria, who helped her
prepare a meal and do the dishes. Panis ate with them as he told them
of his day, and then went out to meet his friends at the cafe. Yannis
had phoned to say that he would be eating out with friends. It happened
often. At sixteen, his life was already snared by the outside. Dimitria
went to bed early, and Eleni remained sitting for a while in front
of the television, distractedly watching a dramatic movie that she
didn’t understand, having missed the beginning.
The next morning she rose before the others, and after making coffee
for her family she went off to work.
The wind blew more gently. The sea had swallowed its whitecaps, which
foretold a very hot day to come. She had thought to bring a bit of
bread for the stray dog she had met the day before, but it wasn’t
there to meet her. Eleni laid her offering down in full sight on a
little rock. As usual, she arrived at ten past six, greeted by the
owner’s morning chirpings.
She had already made her way through a dozen rooms when she saw the
French couple emerge a little before ten. They headed toward the
dining room with eager looks.
Eleni decided to wait until they had definitely left the hotel. She
didn’t like having her work interrupted by the sudden arrival of
clients leaving breakfast and pacing outside the room. Others’
embarrassment always put her ill at ease. They sometimes felt
obliged to launch into a conversation in English, which Eleni did
not understand, but of which she grasped the essentials because it
always dealt with the weather. And so, even at the risk of throwing
off her timetable, she preferred to wait for a clear field before
stepping into the den of intimacy.
At ten-thirty, she could finally enter room seventeen. She set to work,
rehearsing exactly the same gestures as on the previous day.
But as she swept, she knocked something over behind her. Leaning to
pick it up she saw that it was a little wooden Figurine. She turned
and saw a chess board on which little black and white pieces were
deployed. A game in progress had been interrupted.
Eleni looked more closely at the piece she held in her hand. It was a
little black pawn. She hesitated and tried to put it back in its place,
but she did not know from where it had come. There were identical
pieces dotted all over. She stood there a moment, pawn in hand,
staring at the board, seeking out a logic. Finally she gave up, put
the figurine beside the wooden board and finished tidying. She felt
sorry for having destroyed the game in progress, and then consoled
herself by thinking that it must only be a minor piece since there
were so many alike. Perhaps it was not very important.
Before leaving she composed her little nightdress salute in a gesture
of apology. The rest of her working day unfolded without incident.
ARRIVING in town in the early afternoon, she saw Panis at Armenaki’s
terrace, a little tavern overlooking the harbour. She stopped for a
moment to chat with her husband and the owner, a short, stocky man
a few years older than she, who had lived on Naxos his whole life
but whom everyone continued to call “the Armenian” by virtue of his
roots. She accepted the little glass of ouzo he offered her and drank
it in the company of the two men. Though the season had only just
begun, the sun was already burning.
On the shady terrace, Eleni relished the brief moment of repose. She
took off her shoes, stretched her swollen legs and closed her eyes.
She listened to the rustle of conversation and the song of the yellow
canaries the Armenian kept in two little cages hung over the tables.
They uttered sharp notes, calling from one prison to another, as though
they were participating in a Conservatory competition. The restaurant
owner had a third bird to which he afforded the same open-air life
and which he treated with just as much care, but which refused to
sing. The Armenian had made the mistake of calling it Tarzan, which
had perhaps perturbed its perception of the world.
She heard the dry clicking of wooden pieces knocking against each
other and knew that the Armenian had taken out his backgammon set.
The men were beginning a game. Panis’s raucous voice commenting on the
game drifted to her in fragments, followed by the Armenian’s higher
pitched voice. After a few minutes, the voices flagged and the two
men played silently, ensnared by their felted universe.
Suddenly Eleni recalled the little wooden soldier that she had knocked
over in the French couple’s room, thus preventing it from retaking
its place among the ranks. She saw it alone beside the chess board,
as though banished for some wrongdoing. For some reason she could
not explain, the vision troubled her.
“Eleeeni!”
She must have dozed off, because only the third call drifted into
her ears. She started and looked around, a little disoriented by the
distant waves that had carried her off. Her friend Katharina stood
across the street, near the jetty, gesturing toward her.
“Eleeeni! Don’t forget to come see me later. I’ve made baklava.”
Eleni nodded, unfolded her numbed legs, rose and took her leave of
the two men still bent over their game. They responded with grunts
without raising their heads.
Katharine’s apartment was plunged in semi-darkness, the only way
of keeping cool. Her friend busied herself around the gas ring,
watching over the coffee she had put on the burner. A big dish filled
with baklava, dripping honey, was placed on the table; the table was
covered with a lace tablecloth. Tablecloths were Katharina’s pride.
She thought they conferred upon her modest interior the soft touch
of a more prosperous household.
The two women sat and chatted a while as they sipped the sweet
coffee. From time to time they helped themselves to another little
portion of the sticky amber cake, which gradually shrank as their
conversation went on.
They had known each other since childhood. Nothing that happened in
the streets of the capital of Naxos escaped Katharina’s attention;
she had made the spreading of more or less accurate information an
article of her faith. Indeed she had the time to devote herself to
it heart and soul, since she had neither husband nor children to lay
claim to either one or the other.
A few hours passed in enlightened commentary on the lives of so-and-so
and such-and-such, in conjecture on burgeoning relationships. Eleni
listened more than she spoke. She appreciated the afternoons spent
with her old friend for their restful vacuity, which was otherwise
completely absent from her routine.
Toward eight o’clock, Eleni suddenly looked at her watch, gathered
her things and left Katharina. She headed toward the main street
where she needed to run a few quick errands for dinner.
WALKING DOWN a little cobbled side street leading from the Kastro –
the upper part of the town majestically overlooking the port – to
the lower town, Eleni heard the boat’s siren. She quickened her pace.
Panis didn’t like her serving the meal too late. Waiting with pangs
of hunger put him in a bad mood.
She gladly bowed to these little masculine foibles, transmitted from
father to son. She was used to them. Her father also had been very
insistent on the meal times that punctuated his working day. For the
men in her life, the absolute regularity of feeding was a rampart
against the vagaries of existence. As though death could not carry
out its dirty business if one ate every night at nine sharp. Men and
women did not share the same superstitions; Eleni knew it. With men,
such comforting beliefs were called intimate convictions, which
changed nothing in their nature.
Suddenly Eleni stopped dead in the middle of the street. A bold
thought had suddenly struck her. “I’ll give Panis a chess set for
his birthday. We can learn to play together.”
The idea brushed her like a satin evening gown sliding onto the naked
shoulder of a dancer under the sparkling light of a chandelier. She
would not stroll down the Champs-Elysees at twilight; she would
not drink coffee on the great boulevards or learn that enchanting
language. But she would play chess with her husband just as elegant
Parisian women do.
It was the boldest and maddest project Eleni had ever conceived. It
took her breath away.
BERTINA HENRICHS was born in Frankfurt and has lived in France for
many years. This story is an excerpt translated from her new novel
La joueuse d’echecs (Liana Levi).
–Boundary_(ID_1U6ABR5hGYTKW3DEU9EB8Q)–
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

DELEGATION OF UNION OF WRITERS OF ARMENIA TO PARTICIPATE IN CULTURAL CONFERENCE TO BE HELD IN ISPAHAN
Noyan Tapan News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
YEREVAN, NOVEMBER 20, NOYAN TAPAN. On November 20, a group of Armenian
writers headed by Chairman of the Union of Writers of Armenia, Levon
Ananian will leave for Iran on a seven-day visit within the framework
of the Glance at the Future Armenian-Iranian literary-cultural
cooperation program. As L.Ananian said at the press conference
convened at the Union of Writers of Armenia the same day, in 2004,
the Iranian writers for the first time visited Armenia and some days
later they parted from their Armenian partners “with registration of
many creative plans.” Two years have passed and the Iranian government
invited Armenian writers and intellectuals to Ispahan on a reciprocal
visit, to take part in the conference under the title Literary Bridges.
L.Ananian said that the Armenian delegation is not leaving for Iran
empty-handed: 30 titles of books were translated from Persian into
Armenian in Armenia over the past 15 years. These books represent
almost all genres of 20th century’s and modern Iranian literature.
In the words of Reza Atoufi, Director of the Center for Iranian Culture
in Armenia, there are two reasons for holding the conference especially
in Ispahan: first, Yerevan and Ispahan are sister cities, and second,
Ispahan has been announced cultural capital of the Islamic world.

ARGENTINEAN BUSINESSMAN EDUARDO EURNEKYAN INVESTS $40 MILLION IN CONSTRUCTION OF GEOTHERMIC POWER PLANT IN ARMENIA
ArmInfo News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
Argentinean businessman Eduardo Eurnekyan, the concessioner of Yerevan
airport “Zvartnots,” is investing $40 million in the construction
of the first geothermic power plant in Armenia, Armen Movsisyan,
Energy Minister of Armenia, told journalists in the course of his
working visit to Syunik region, Armenia.
The minister said the plant with 25 megawatt capacity is to be built
in Kyarkar volcanic valley in Sisian district, Syunik region.
Minister Movsisyan said the plant may be put into exploitation within
1-2 years. Preliminary estimations showed that the area has a big
potential of geothermic power that can be used for energy purposes,
the minister said.
On December 17 2001, the CJSC Armenian International Airlines
belonging to Eduardo Eurnekyan received concession of Yerevan airport
“Zvartnots.” By present, the concessioner has invested about $100
million in the modernization of the airport. E. Eurnekyan is currently
negotiating for the control stock of Areximbank, which belongs to
Moscow Impexbank and other structures of Russian businessman Boris
Ivanishvili.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

AZERI POLITICAL EXPERT: THE ACTIVITY OF OSCE MG CO-CHAIRS IS NOTHING BUT A SHOW
ArmInfo News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
“One should not expect new proposals from the visit of the Co-chairs,”
says Vafa Guluzade, political expert, ex-adviser of state of
Azerbaijan, Day.az reports.
He says all the proposals of OSCE MG Co-chairs and the positions
of the conflict parties are well-known to everyone. President of
Azerbaijan Ilham Aliyev has recently stated in Turkey that he will
never approve the settlement scheme providing for existence of Nagorny
Karabakh outside Azerbaijan. The political expert believes that the
illusions of the public every time before visits of the Co-chairs have
been groundless from the very beginning. The mediators representing
Russia, USA and France bear no relations to the leadership of their
states. They are engaged in independent actions.
They are well-aware that the settlement in the current conditions
has no prospects. “That is why, I think the last rather optimistic
statements by the U.S. Co-chair Matthew Bryza just a speculation. The
activity of the Co-chairs is nothing but a show. It is impossible to
speak of any progress when the leadership of Armenia has occupied
the Azdrbaijani territories and states that Nagorny Karabakh has
never belonged and will never belong to Azerbaijan. While, Baku will
never agree with separation of these lands,” V. Guluzade says. He
believes that the meeting of Azerbaijani and Armenian presidents in
Minsk during the upcoming CIS Summit is absolutely senseless. “In the
present conditions of contradictions, the presidents will probably
have a cup of tea and break up as before,” V. Guluzade says.

ARMENIAN-IRANIAN COOPERATION IN CULTURE AND LITERATURE ACHIEVES NEW LEVEL
ArmInfo News Agency, Armenia
Nov 20 2006
A delegation of Armenian writers will attend a conference
“Armenian-Iranian Cooperation: Sight at Future” scheduled for November
21-27 in Iran, Levon Ananyan, Chairman of the Union of Writers of
Armenia said at a press conference, Monday.
He said that since 2004 when Iranian writers participated in a
conference “Literature Bridges,” the cooperation in the spheres of
culture and literature of the two countries has achieved a new level.
During the last 15 years, some 30 books widely representing the Iranian
literature have been translated from Farsi into Armenian. In addition,
a new edition of Koran in Armenian will be published soon.
Among Iranian translators, L. Ananyan mentioned Ahmad Nurizade,
who introduced Iranian readers to the Armenian poetry.
Adviser for Culture of Iranian Embassy in Armenia Reza Atufi called
the forthcoming visit of Armenian delegation the turning-point in the
cooperation in the spheres of culture and literature. The cooperation
of Armenia and Iran in the political, economic and cultural spheres
has a great strategic importance, he said. The Armenian delegation
will participate in a number of cultural events in the towns of
Esfahan and Tehran. R. Atufi said that the selection of Esfahan was
not accidental. Culture ministers of 57 Islamic countries and members
of ISESCO recognized that town as the cultural capital of the Islamic
world on January 1 2006.
On November 28, immediately after the Armenian delegation returns
from Iran, an exhibition devoted to the culture of Esfahan will open
in Yerevan.

TURKEY RISKS TO LOSE LAST FRIENDS IN EUROPE
PanARMENIAN.Net
20.11.2006 13:07 GMT+04:00
/PanARMENIAN.Net/ Suddeutsche Zeitung published comments on the
statements by commander of Turkish land forces Ilker Bashbug on
freezing military relations with France. “The statement of the Turkish
General is scandalous since he, being a commander, conducts as if
representing the interests of his country at diplomatic level. The
Turkish government officially shows interest in integration into
the European structures. However orientation on Europe supposes that
Turkish politicians should control the army and keep their generals
from doing what they wish. General Bashbug has reputation of a ‘hawk’.
Adherents to a tough position among the Turkish generals disliked
Erdogan’s restraint in condemning the French bill. Official Ankara
doesn’t deny the crimes against the Armenian people but refuses to
resign itself to the term ‘genocide’,” the newspaper says.
“On one hand the Turkish authorities fear that the heirs of the
victims will claim compensations. On the other hand the matter
concerns the reputation of the Turkish army which is considered to
be one of the traditional pillars of the society. Turkish military
wish to maintain their privileges, fashionable villas on the Bosporus
shores, defense budget and the troops in Cyprus. By the way, they
possess valuable realty in Cyprus and in case of withdrawal of the
military bases they will have to leave the realty for the Cypriot
Greeks. The occupation of the Northern Cyprus, the Armenian issue,
the war in Turkish Kurdistan… A number of urgent issues emerge
and the Turkish generals have to work at them, however the generals
refuse. If Turkey prefers free-will isolation it will lose not only
serious economic partners but also the last friends in Europe,”
the newspaper says, reports Deutsche Welle.

LEVON ARONIAN OF ARMENIA COMES SECOND AT MOSCOW RAPID CHESS TOURNAMENT
Armenpress
Nov 20 2006
YEREVAN, NOVEMBER 20, ARMENPRESS: Chess World Cup winner, Armenian
grandmaster Levon Aronian, came second after grandmaster Viswanathan
Anand of India who banked on his vast reservoir of experience in
rapid chess to win the Mikhail Tal Memorial Blitz tournament in Moscow.
Aronian scored 21 points, by two points less than Anand, out of
a possible 34. The third place was shared by Teimour Radjabov of
Azerbaijan and Peter Svidler of Russia, who scored 20.5 points each.
The event was played on a double round robin basis between 18 players
over two days. The event had 11 players above 2700 ELO rating and
none below the 2650 mark.

MODERNIZATION OF YEREVAN THERMAL POWER PLANT TO START NEXT YEAR
Armenpress
Nov 20 2006
YEREVAN, NOVEMBER 20, ARMENPRESS: Armenian energy minister Armen
Movsisian said the results of a tender announced for modernization
of the Yerevan Thermal Power plant will be summed up in a couple
of months.
He said the modernization project is expected to be started in early
2007 and end in 2008.
The government of Armenia has received a $150 million credit from
the Japanese International Cooperation Bank to do the job. The bulk
of this money will be spent on construction of a new powerful 250
megawatt capacity turbine working on natural gas.
Experts say the modernization will result in reducing the prime
cost of 1 kilowatt/hour electricity from current 400 drams to 160-170
drams. The updated plant will produce one sixth of the overall domestic
power demand.
The minister said the thermal power plant was removed from the list
of state-owned enterprises subject to privatization, as demanded by
the credit agreement.