Kyle’s Journey in Armenia

August 15th is the Swearing-In ceremony for the new group of volunteers. For me, our ceremony last year was a powerful experience, and was truly a milestone in my life. I’m sure this year’s ceremony will be quite different from the “other side”: as a volunteer who has lived here a year, has integrated into his community, has studied the language, and has experienced the ups and downs of everyday life in Armenia. And of course as a volunteer who still has a lot to learn.

So without further ado, I present to you, “Peace Corps Armenia: A Year in Review”:

I figure the best way to understand where you are is to look at where you’ve been. Fortunately, blogging and journaling make it really easy to read about your first experiences, which I did last night. One thing I noticed was that they were full of surprises, adventures, and a lot of fun, but not really a sense of accomplishment. Just comparing this summer with the last really shows the transition I’ve made in this country. Last summer I went to some parties, I played some frisbee, learned some language, but didn’t really change anything. This summer, I’ve helped build a wheelchair ramp. I’ve helped my NGO bring affordable Internet to my town. I’ve helped Armenians learn about Americans through camps and English lessons. The key word in all of that is “helped.”

The last few days have been very good for me. I’ve had a lot of very good conversations with my neighbors, about the same things I would talk about with my friends, all in Armenian. I can walk in to my office, or the local school, and my ideas and thoughts will be considered along with everyone elses. I have something to do every day. When I went back and redid the Peace Corps Service section of my website the other day, it had substance; it was not just a bunch of speculation and ideas, it was concrete results.

I’ve also come to realize how much of a tangible results person I really am. I like numbers, and being able to say, “I built this,” or “I received these grants,” or, “I’m the chair of the IT Initiative.” These things are good for me, as they give me goals and a base to work from. But I guess one thing the Peace Corps has taught me, as much as I’d like to deny it, is that the intangibles are worth something. When the neighbor boys want high fives every day after work, or the grandparents outside my building want me to sit with them and listen to their story, or a student from my English club invites me to their birthday party, that means something. It really means people respect why I’m here, and they have opened up to new ideas. And I have opened up to theirs. It’s very hard to be open minded, period. Here, I’ve realized what a valuable skill that is, and how important it is for communication to occur between people of different cultures; without that, how will we ever really live together in this small world?

I was very happy to hear that the school director arranged for the national news to come to Noyemberyan next week to do a report about the wheelchair ramp we constructed. This is great on so many levels, as it shows people are noticing what we are doing, and why we are doing it. If people see our school constructs ramps and supports people with disabilities, why can’t others do the same? There is a national stigma about a lot of things here, which is often hard to break. Boys are above girls in the social heirarchy. People with disabilities aren’t considered a legitimate part of society. There is a lot of underlying racism in people here (although you can’t necessary blame them, living in a mono-racial society). But it’s about changing attitudes here, which I’ve realized you can only really do on a personal level. I try to show youth that it’s important to be part of their community, that Turkish people aren’t all bad, that men and women can be equal.

I do feel like I’ve accomplished a lot and grown in many ways since I arrived here last year. But I still have a lot to learn. One fact that’s always been hard for me to let go of, despite my continued exclamations to Sara, is that I’m not saving the world here. There are factors completely out of my control that it’s not my place to change. The political situation here is trying, and with the borders shut this country will stay disadvantaged. Gender and ethnic roles are rooted in hundreds of years of history, and a stratified society will inevitably leave some with less.

Without rambling too much longer – things are going well here for me. I’ve accomplished a lot, and have a lot of motivation to accomplish more. This next year will go much faster than the last. Before I know it, I’ll be part of the American workforce again, driving on the freeway and eating Taco Bell. I guess my biggest challenge now is how to maximize my time and effectiveness while remaining culturally sensitive. I was eating breakfast this morning (potato soup with a fresh peach and a slice of pig head – which is delicious btw) and thinking how I just might miss this place after all. I think it’s a sign you’ve integrated when you look forward to your bucket bath at the end of the day… 🙂

And I’d like to note I would not be here without the support of my Armenian counterparts, Peace Corps, my friends, my family, Sara1, and all those who continue to send me encouraging notes and emails. Without you I simply could not be here.

So, to summarize (finally ;)). “I’ve helped.” “Concrete results.” “Open-mindedness.” “Changing attitudes.” “Accepting I can’t do it all.” “Integrated.” These aren’t Peace Corps buzz-words to me any more, they’re what I’ve done. To accomplish that in only a year, in a different language and a different culture, means something. But these are the things we do here every day, and they make the bucket baths and the negative parts of the experience trivial in comparison. And I have a feeling next year will only get better…

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