Raspberries and other stuff

Sometimes, it actually feels like I am in the Peace Corps.  This past Saturday was one of those days. After four and a half hours of language class in the morning, I sauntered home to be fed and have a nap. Unfortunately, the day that I returned from site visit one of my other sisters was rushed to the hospital. Not the same sister as when I first arrived, but the 17 year old. Everything is ok now after surgery. So, this weekend it was just myself, Grigor and Narine.

There are many trees in my backyard/garden and right now everything is ripe! My host father Grigor will climb one every couple of days and shake out the blackberries or yellow cherries. On Saturday, as I was napping under the cherry tree Grigor climbed it and hung out there for a good thirty minutes eating cherries. Sometimes I feel like I still live with my brother Andrew, but he’s 53, my height and married with children. Like Andrew, Grigor starts his day with coffee and a cigarette. He likes to fix bikes and sleep in the kidnapper van because ‘it’s cooler’.  And of course, he loves to climb trees and eat the fruit. This weekend though, Grigor was rocking his wife’s bedazzled slippers everyday and I’m not entirely sure why… but I loved every single second he had them on.

A few hours later I felt like eating some raspberries.  There are so many raspberry plants in the garden! I grabbed a basket and started picking. I have never before picked raspberries, but it’s something I plan to continue doing. You can get lost in thought seeking out the deep red hue popping out against all the green.  As I went along I realized that I would really love to have a backyard/ garden such as my host family’s once I return home. It makes so much more sense to water plants instead of grass, to fill the soil with seeds that will bear fruit the entire summer and give you winter preserves. Plus I enjoy the sensations of being in the garden. My bare feet in the damp dirt, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck as the sun beats down, the delicate skin of the raspberries… it’s all very sensual.

Later on, my friend came over for tea and sunflower seeds. Armenians freaking love sunflower seeds! They can eat a wild amount of them in a sitting. They are served at almost every gathering and I will look over at my neighbor’s plate to see the mound of sunflower seeds compared to my pathetic pile. It was a lovely day. My visitor was another American volunteer though, so I did not feel as badly about myself.

The next morning I woke up early to do language homework and clean up my room before heading over to the village of Kotayk.  A group of ten was meeting to go hike the nearby mountain. It was about a 3hour hike up, with a steep incline nearly the whole time. It was so intense with the heat and no shade at all. I have only ever hiked mountains in the Adirondacks, where there is tree coverage the whole way up.  This was quite a different experience. An hour into the climb I decided I was going to take my sweet ass time because I didn’t want to be utterly exhausted this morning.

When I woke up I was definitely dehydrated with a slight headache and my legs still feel like stone. The pictures were definitely worth it though, so check those out on FB ( I will post them in a few days).

And for those of you swimming in the ocean this summer, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! All I want is a long afternoon at the beach followed by chilled white wine, the best hair ever, great color and laughs with my friends. When that day does come again, my god, will it be ever so sweet!

Kisses! I ruv youse!

A Weekend in Malishka

On Saturday morning, I woke up to my (Akunk) mother Silva making my favorite little pastries to send with me on my journey. I was only leaving for a few days but the whole family said goodbye like I was leaving for good.  It felt nice to have them send me off so genuinely. Obviously, for my host father it can be awkward in those situations, so to settle our shared uneasiness I gave him a karate kick and headed for the door. (Sometimes, I feel like the boy Grigor never had… We karate chop at one another on a semi-regular basis and one day he was swinging from the door frame kicking his little legs at me. It was awesome).

In Yerevan I started feeling a little bit queasy and even more so as the counterparts showed up to escort us to the metro station. The already hot city started to feel suffocating walking around in jeans with a full backpack. When we got down to the track it was much cooler and I started having cold sweats. This might be the first time I experienced anxiety in this form. It was so odd because mentally I wasn’t freaking out, but my body was.  Luckily, the five other nearby volunteers and I were all travelling together. After four stops we got off and headed to the bus, where we loaded the private university bus that a counterpart (and host brother to a separate volunteer) had organized for us. At this point I was not looking forward to the two -hour drive but I just put my shades and headphones on, and then passed out.

After arriving in Yeghegnazdor, I took a 15-minute marshutni into the village of Malishka with my imposter counterpart. She unexpectedly took me to her personal home instead of my host family’s home. After meeting everyone in the family, eating a meal, checking out the garden and suffering her cousin’s 21 questions, I was losing steam and patience fast.  Instead of picking up on this, she suggested I take a nap at her house… so I made it very clear I was ready to go see my new host family.  Once in their house, I ate the meal that they had prepared for my arrival and introduced myself to another 10 people and answered another set of 21 questions. As you may imagine, I was completely exhausted. Luckily, after my kidnapper left the house my new host mom picked up on this and told me to go relax in my room. I was so, so grateful for this reprieve.

It’s hard to describe the amount of energy it takes to go through these introductions. In my room I had to seriously pull it together, because honestly, in that moment I wanted to be home. I wanted to never leave the room and sleep through the weekend. Instead, forty or so minutes later I exited the room, then sat and watched as the women made dinner. It was an incredibly delicious vegetable soup, which helped me to feel much better. My host family was so gentle with me; it was exactly what I needed.

In the morning I finally met my counterpart and the director (principal) at the school where I will spend the next two years teaching English. I am so grateful that my school has electricity and amazing resources. With grant money, a computer and projector was bought for the English classroom. I am stepping into a strong foundation and it is giving me great ease of mind. Yet, I also know what I must now live up to; the legacy of Chad the American volunteer lives largely in my village. He only left this past April and all were sad to see him go. I wish he was around to show me the ropes a little bit, but wishing won’t do me any good. I shall simply have to prove myself without the help of an established volunteer. 

Unlike most other regions, all of the volunteers before us will have returned home by the time we move there.  All but one early terminated and she is leaving a few weeks before our move.  She gave us a lot of sound advice and showed us a great café.  I met with my other future site mates there and hung out for a couple of hours. The next day was very low-key. I did meet around 20 more people but in a much more casual setting. I was so happy to tag along with my new host mom Siranush to her girlfriend’s house. I spent the afternoon laughing and trying to follow the gossip amongst this friendly and warm group of women. They are all teachers within my new school!! It was a wonderful way to get my foot in the door, and I look forward to seeing everyone when I return for good in August!

…And guess what, my new h.family has a cat!