A foreigner is expected at Nagorno-Karabakh’s brand new airport - a selfproclaimed republic that hasn’t been recognized by any state. The upgradingwork on the airport will finally allow it to run properly and enable the local population to assert its existence and connect to the rest of the world. The tarmac at the airport, the promise of an elsewhere, is the place that concentrates all the expectations of the young village boy, Edgar. This land which is bound by very clear borders, an endless cease-fire, the scars of the anterior war and the threat of the war to come, is his world. The one he wants to escape from. Manu, a thirteen-year-old girl receives an envelope from her father, containing money so that she can take the first plane that will leave Nagorno-Karabakh. But as the days go by, the plane’s arrival is constantly postponed to the next week. The plane, the most trivial thing for an airport, seems to be an utopia within this paradoxical place.
My story starts on tiptoe, gradually settling down and confronting the different strata of the Nagorno Karabakh context. The territory of Nagorno-Karabakh is the canvas on which the story is painted, weaving together the lives of my main and secondary characters. First we discover the geographical territory through the eyes of a foreigner, Alain, a man in his fifties, trapped in this cut-off land. Then we are confronted with the physical territory as we follow the wanderings of Edgar, a child from a local village. As he walks he takes in the vast expanses of his country. And finally we come to the political territory through the tormented story of Manu, a girl of mixed race who will soon be uprooted to join her father abroad.