While there are a lot of wonderful inter-cultural exchange experiences and wacky encounters with host-country nationals I could tell about, today I wanted to share something a little more fun.
Part of my lessons at the Koghb Art School included a lesson on PhotoShop and other fun computer drawing software. I have to say I’m quite happy that they’ve actually applied their knowledge. Here are some of my favorite selections (all are in the Photo Gallery):
This one’s for you1:
In one of my larger failures of Peace Corps’ “Goal 3” – I’ve been really bad about teaching everyone back home about Armenia lately. Our Internet is very wishy-washy, but now that the good weather and a few trips to the top of mountain (more on that later), things are getting back on track. But here is the abrieviated version of my life of late:
- Biggest news, we got partial funding for the School #2 Accessibility Project!!! The Yerevan International Women’s Council will be making a cash contribution used to construct all of the ramps of the project! We are very excited and very thankful for their help. More on that later.
- I went to Tbilisi. For three days – it is a beautiful city, with a really cool old fort, lots of old churches, and Sulfer baths frequented by Dumas and Putin. Plus they have…
- McDONALDS! Ok, so I never really ate at McDonalds in America, but when you haven’t seen one for 9 months, a little slice of Americana is always welcome. Note: after about 2 minutes of the grease, efficiency and happy meal boxes, I got out of there, quick.
- I climbed a tower! I spent last Wed, the day after Tbilisi, driving in an old Soviet jeep through two feet of snow to a tower on top of a mountain to repair some Internet equipment and to horovats (bar-b-que)
- My brother’s basketball team, the University of New York at Albany (GO DANES!) made it to the NCAA tournament, and is seeded 13th and will play Virginia this Friday. Congratulations Brett!!!
- I HAVE PICTURES OF ALL THESE THINGS!!! To see pictures from my last month, check out the photos section or click ‘Photo Gallery’ on the right-hand menu. Here are some selected shots:
The Wedding:
Tbilisi:
On Top of Armenia:
A month and four days, not too long since the last update, right? At least they’ve been a little busier and more productive than the last month and four days. For those who are wondering: I am alive, I am healthy, and I am happy. I am also still really cold. Last week, we had the first hint of spring and I wen the day without a coat or long underwear. The next day it snowed. Apparently Puxitony Phil’s prediction runs opposite on the other side of the Prime Meridian? (Ir)regardless it’s really cold, but I’m well. Work is going well. I’m coordinating a nationwide Women’s Day essay contest, training to run a marathon in November, working on a lot of other projects. That’s work, this is life:
Colonel Hovanisyan, In the Library, With the Candlestick
The second week of February, we went to Peace Corps’ sanctioned Project Design & Management (PDM) workshop in Tsakadzor. This place – where to begin – was a former sanitarium for Russian writers, and the decorating was designed to inspire the likes of Tolstoy and others. Personally, it would have driven me to mass-murder. The place was down-right creepy. There was a hallway where, if you placed a pair of ghost-twin-girls and blood pouring from the “Red Rum” inscribed walls, would have resembled a scene from “The Shining”. Or perhaps the courtyard, billiard room or library would have only gotten you mass-murdered (or at least would provided the secret passage back to the Ball Room). The place was downright scary, but it was a good workshop so I’m glad I survived to put things into action. Some of the PCV and counterparts’ livers may not have been so lucky, but we have to find our inspiration somewhere.
Afterwards was a little different, and certainly defined our PC-Armenia catchphrase, “This Isn’t Your Mother’s Peace Corps”. Tsakadzor is also the site of the newly-renovated ski resort, so I spent an entire day skiing down modern Italian slopes, donning modern ski equipment, and carving powder with the President of Armenia (he’s an avid ski buff, and may or may not have played a part in getting this place built). Well, maybe they have this in Togo, right?
Saved by the Axbar, The Wedding
I found out last Friday that my host brother from my summer host family in Bazum was getting married (on Sunday)!! Overjoyed, I hopped on the mini-bus from Yerevan and arrived Saturday evening in Bazum. Bazum was a place of many cultural firsts, so it seems fitting my first wedding was there as well. First, the background: my host brother, Tigran, lived in Russia all summer and I did not meet him til October. His wife, Hasmik, has lived in Russia since she was 11. She is now 20, and came back to see her sister, our neighbor, for Nor Tari. She arrived Dec 31st. By January 6th, they had fallen in love, and Tigran “kidnapped” her, which basically means bringing her to live with him. Normally this ceremony is done with a line of cars with pink bows on the front – they take the girl from her family, drive around town honking their horns, and then deliver her to her new destination. We have a mountain path, so they did that instead. Anyway, 20 days later, it was time for the wedding party…
Saturday night was prep night. We made a lot of dolma (not again!), a lot of salad, set a huge table, complete with two cases of vodka. We did not have an official wedding ceremony, as they don’t have the money, but we did have the resulting party on Sunday. The groom’s family showed up with many presents, and we sat down for dinner, which quickly turned into a toasting festival which put Nor Tari to shame. Once thing that irked me a bit was how the bride and groom were rather ignored, and the dinner became a flaunting of family pride, which nearly evolved into a fight between the two sides of the tables. Luckily a few more friendly toasts and some boisterous Armenian dancing settled things down, and by the end of the night everyone was happy. We even had “that drunk Uncle” at the party, so it was truly a complete wedding experience.
…And Back to Noyemberyan
After being gone for the past few weeks, it was nice to be back home finally. Clubs are back on, grants are being written, and bowls of borsht are again in front of me. My English clubs continue to make me laugh, though, and are still somewhat the light of my life1. Last Thursday, we played a game called “Mad Debate”. Alex and I wrote random words on paper, the students drew them from a hat, and debated which was better for people. For instance, we had “Ships” vs. “Birthday Parties” and “Guns” vs. “Pizza”. The kids at these clubs continue to impress me, and they really are getting a lot better and more confident in their speech. My favorite moments came during the debate of were during two arguments: The first was “lawyers” vs. “socks”, in which my friend Arus kept referring to them as “liars” unknowingly. The second was “soap operas” vs. “schools”, where “soaps” came out on top simply by noting “it keeps the old crazy women inside and off the streets.” I love these kids!
I apologize for my poor blogging habits – I will get pictures posted within the next week for all to see. Also, I’m heading to Tbilisi (the capital of Georgia) in two weeks, so look for my inevitable ramblings about my first McDonalds in 9 months coming soon!
Armenia’s New Year holiday (“Nor Tari”) has finally passed, and it can best be described as a dolma-filled, house-crawling, insomnia-enducing holiday adventure of epic proportions. Today is the 18th – I am still exhausted 🙂 The official Nor Tari holiday ran from Jan 1st until Christmas Day on Jan 6th. However, unofficially, the partying continued until the old New Year on January 13th. I guess there’s no way to explain it but to start from the beginning:
New Years Eve – I’ll be honest, New Years Eve here is not fun and completely anti-climatic compared to America’s. The biggest event of New Years Eve is “laying the table”, which involves putting out a rediculous amount of food so that your guests can come over, stay for 5 minutes, not eat any of it, drink a toast and leave. More on that later. I had every intention of only putting out some American candy and liquor and inviting a select few guests, but my host Mom would have none of it and forced me to decorate my entire room for all the “guests” that would come over. Alex and I had a really nice table for New Years.
New Years Day – At 10am the next day, I awoke and the debouchery began. 10 hours later, 24 neighbors’ houses later, 34lbs of dolma later, I slumped down in a chair at Alex’s host family’s house to finally relax. I had literally been eating ALL DAY (think, sitting at the Chinese buffet for 10 hours), completely drained. Alex’s host family came home, and of course layed us a beautiful table to indulge. After picking at some food, Alex’s host mom turned to me and said, “Mi ker”, or “don’t eat”. I turned to her with a stunned look of amazment, having never heard those words from an Armenian’s mouth before. After questioning her about it, she laughed and said, “Not ‘Mi ker’, ‘Mirk ker’,” or “eat fruit”. To me, this sums up Nor Tari 100%.
Minchev Verch – I spent the next few days visiting my host family in Bazum from this summer, which is best described as Thanksgiving on speed, or a progressive from Hell. I arrived at my family’s house at 5. By 5:05, they had told me to set my bag down, thrown me into an 1980s Suburban, and we started our 7-house crawl around Bazum and Vanadzor. Each place was literally walk in, eat 3 dolma, tell the host that “these are the best dolma I’ve had yet” (because they all ask), and drink three shots of vodka minchev verch (“until finished”) with the same three toasts you’ve heard at every other house. The same continued for Jan 3rd, 4th, and 5th, and I finally decided to escape the busy city life and spend the last few days in my host cousins’ village of Terut.
Terut – The village, as you may remember, is my personal Garden of Eden. Completely beautiful, relaxing and serene, I go there to collect my thoughts, reflect on my service and generally reestablish my sense of peace with the world. Not this time. The Nor Tari tradition trancends place and time, and we continued the celebrations like clockwork in the village. We actually did get the chance to go hiking, stop by church, but this was in between a lot of eating, dancing, and my favorite part of the week: eating bar-b-qued pig tail and tongue:
I know this doesn’t begin to capture the craziness of Nor Tari. I don’t know if I really can in words, so you’re just going to have to come see it for yourself. It’s fun. It’s exhausting. I don’t want to eat dolma again for another month or two. Oh, and I dressed up as Santa’s Granddaughter, “Dzinanushik”, for our Art School party. At least there was something redeeming about the week:
5 days later, it’s almost time to relax. Until next year, of course… ay kes ban!