Sahib translates as a master, owner, or a host which cannot remain unmentioned when speaking of our visit to Ganja. Having stepped out of the taxi that drove us from Baku to Ganja (and when I say “taxi”, I don’t mean a NYC type of a yellow cab, but more of a good old wobbly mini-van, with two men smoking their cigarettes in the front seat, chatting loudly and, obviously, from time to time swearing at the fellow drivers), we have been informed to prepare to be treated as a kind of celebrities throughout our stay. At first I thought it must have been a joke, but when, after the opening ceremony in which we were greeted by some reasonably pompous and, gotta say, at times overly long speeches of the politicians, and somebody I’ve never seen in my life has come over to ask if they could have a picture together, I kinda started getting the gist of what it’s like to be famous. Having been guarded by the faithful volunteers of Odlar Yurdu, always followed by our personal photographer, taken to fancy restaurants and having had our views, opinions and desires always listened to as a priority, I’ve gotta say it’s been a bit of a reality-check to go back home and realize that I’m not all that special. The hosts in Ganja sure know how to treat their guests – their hospitality is endless.