I would like to think I'm one of the more responsible drone pilots that tends to be seen running around various locations. Where I fly is often predetermined with a few hours of research on Google Maps as to avoid both densely populated areas and ensure I'm not flying near or over anything military and government. To add, wherever I do fly, I ensure I take off and land in areas that are essentially empty, where it is just me and nobody else is around to get bothered by it. This can mean I'll find a spot that's generally isolated with one or two people roaming around, but there's enough space between us that nothing should be of concern regarding my presence, and I'm always happy to look friendly as I'm quick to shoot what I want and get out of the location shortly after. No sticking around. Where others throw up their drones without a care in the world, I'm not so lucky as to avoid the potential angry local. Never before have I encountered a person that actually did have a problem with me flying my drone, as well. Through all the countries I have been flying it in, anyone that does notice it either finds it interesting or simply doesn't care to even pay attention to it or me. A few years of experience has led to me building this manner of piloting the drone, finding the right locations and keeping people's general personal boundaries into consideration.
While the situation around this part of the world can be a bit paranoid; Armenia is constantly facing the threat of Turkey and Azerbaijan working together to destabilise and ensure Armenia concedes its land for their gain through economic and physical warfare, flying drones around Armenia isn't really something one should face the fear of doing. Common sense is of course to be utilised like I mentioned before: avoid the densely populated areas, military locations, or the regions entirely in which these events are taking place. I exercised additional precautions by ensuring I went to the end of a settlement where it was empty, a few unfinished homes throughout, the odd stray dog and car may drive through every now and then. Across the street is a newer highway that bridges the city to other villages and towns nearby. And from there it's essentially just the wide open rocky landscape that is found within the southern areas of Armenia. A pretty perfect spot for flying the drone, one might assume. Well, I flew the drone for a few minutes, using up about half of one battery just taking a few shots and videos. I landed the drone, packed it up, and went on my way to go and buy some bread. Down the road I said hello to two locals that stood outside of their place.
I walked through the street of the town that I had missed from last year. I was curious as to whether it had changed much, to which I was surprised at how little it had. The park was the same, I walked through that and saw how children played football there. An Olympic swimming pool was still standing there, though the drinking fountain wasn't operating for some reason where it once was. Kind of disappointed I couldn't catch a little sip of water before continuing. A few new things had appeared in the form of a new school for children by the side of the road, which itself was dug up from a failed construction site that clearly was being funded through some corruption. Still in the exact same state it was in eight months ago when I was last there. Not a single development. To the left was a garage, and I had to cross the road by the side of it. And so I did. To my surprise a large factory appeared from the Soviet Union. This instantly caught my attention due to the Soviet hammer and sickle symbol which still remained, albeit now quite rusty. The text, in Russian glorifying the worker. I would've loved to have gone inside the zone and roamed around, but there was no actual entrance as things had been locked up for years. I didn't try my luck to get inside. Though a rogue kitten had taken a liking to me.
I stood there and took some photographs of the factory's opening. Petting the kitten and enjoying the time. A car pulled up and used the entrance as a parking spot. A few moments later another car turned up and parked right in front of me, I gestured to it to stop advancing as it was close to hitting both me and the kitten of which I'm not sure they saw. This car looked ordinary. Two police officers exited which I thought was odd, still not assuming they were there for me until they walked forwards and tried to talk to me. My Armenian and Russian skills are incredibly thin, so I informed them I didn't speak either languages, and began to use my phone to type in some questions and answers, as did they. Shortly after, in broken English I received the following question: "You fly drone?" I answered with a truthful "Yes."
I then wrote into Yandex Translate, into Russian thinking it would be more accurate, that I had no idea it wasn't actually allowed, as from all the research I had done, I in fact was totally fine. The airport was miles away, and there were no military bases nearby, government buildings, and the likes. Though this thought suddenly ran through my head. What if I had missed something? I was certain I hadn't. I'm never that sloppy. I'd never put myself or others in such risk, especially here with the tough climate as it is. They asked to see my passport and I explained I didn't have it on me. I also tried to continuously explain that the place I was staying at was quite literally within walking distance and I could go and get it. But they insisted I got into the car with them and we would go to the police station to verify my identity. The car ride was probably the most stressful of the whole situation; attempting to tell them that my passport was nearby as we then drove by the road. They weren't really cooperating at this point, not in any aggressive manner but generally a bit dismissive. I wasn't under arrest, and they didn't confiscate any of my belongings. I was able to make a call and text during this ride, and even back in the police station where I was told to sit and wait.
The police station was incredibly Soviet. The entire layout felt old and stuck within the past. The police would smoke inside, and the seating area consisted of three ancient chairs that were insanely uncomfortable. One police offer, like something out of a western film, would stand near the entrance holding a long hunting rifle with no accessories added to it. Given I was a foreigner, the police would circle around me, each of them trying to find someone that could speak English as well as attempt to speak to me. They kept asking me the same questions: "Where are you from?", "What is your name?". The situation was odd, but still nothing that felt like I was in any actual danger. Some tried to say my name in English and struggled, to which one called me "Anjin" and a female officer corrected him, having perfectly, and rather instantly, managed to say my name. One man holding a tablet asked me to sit still while he took two photographs of my face. My drone still out on the table as I ensured it was visible in the event that someone asked to see what was on it. Somewhat expecting them to ask for my camera, and phone as well. I understand the tensions here, and without proof of identity it made sense that the local law enforcement would want to check everything over.
Eventually family arrived and came to my rescue, speaking Armenian and bringing my passport. We went upstairs to an office, the building still maintaining its old Soviet appearance. Old numbers on the wooden doors and wooden flooring straight from the 70s. A beautiful place stuck in the past! The female officer was lovely, she didn't speak English and they wanted to bring in an official translator to ensure everything was established fairly and there was no twisting of speech. Though this wasn't needed with the support of family. The person that reported me also arrived to handle his side of whatever report he had made. I was curious at this point, given I still had no idea what I had done and who had reported me in the first place. My suspicions remained that it was something far more serious like local military or something. Nope, it was that one fuck I said hello to earlier. He reported me, and not only that: the creep had followed me for at least twenty minutes down the street all the way to the factory before reporting me. I had no idea. Why would I assume so? No attempts to communicate with me. No questions asked and not once did they gesture to me from afar (nor come up to me) to tell me they'd prefer I didn't fly around the area. He claimed I was filming his house, which was untrue.
Words cannot describe the anger I have for this random stranger now. With fears of this appearing on a record of mine in Armenia where I was planning to return to. The possibility of deportation (assuming I actually may have done something). The total lack of communication in which they didn't tell me they were bothered, even as I walked by them after and greeted them kindly, as they also greeted me. To which they proceeded in following me through the streets. I have no problems with Armenia nor the Armenian people as a result of this, I do feel it's something that could've happened anywhere in the world. Such freaks are found in all places, after all. While I couldn't understand the conversations in the office, I did explain that I was aware of military bases, the flight paths, and densely populated areas to which I intentionally avoided by going to the remote area in the first place. I was told I was doing nothing wrong, given permission to fly wherever I want providing the common sense of what was mentioned above is continued. What a total fucking waste of time that all was for us all. All due to one idiotic man with more time than intelligence. Again, I understand the nation's fears in certain regions. This was not one of those regions. Nor was I doing anything remotely suspicious. This town also sees a lot of tourism and foreigners aren't exactly alien to these people. I'm lucky to have had good people to come to my rescue. It would've been far worse had I been alone entirely.
But I genuinely did do nothing wrong and was prepared to prove it in any way I could. And it the end it was established that I did do nothing wrong. Let go after verifying my identity as a general precaution, which I understood. Not remotely bothered by the police nor their handling of the situation. Regular police and people doing their jobs. That one man that reported me, though? Zero respect. The plus side was I got to see the unique interior of a Soviet rural police station. Which even had original Soviet era gun posters on the walls which stated various information about them and their mechanisms. That was incredibly fascinating and I almost wished I could've been given a tour of the rest of the place. Maybe that will happen if I get reported again, I guess. Featured in this post are all of the photographs I took leading up to this entire event.
And lastly, here's the kitten I made brief friends with shortly before the police arrived.