Today my Regional Manager came to visit my village. She was coming to check out my possible new house and meet with my Director. My counterpart did not come to meet with her, because you know - it was her day off and all. It was so nice to have Meri, my Regional Manager with me. She is an Armenian and beautifully fluent in English. I really trust her judgment and understanding of volunteers' needs. In short, she's great.
Unfortunately, there are some problems with the place. Namely, money. Every month, Peace Corps deposits 145,144 drams into my Armenian bank account. That exchanges out to about $356.14 a month. Now, that is based on the fact that I live in a village, so I am only allotted 15,000 drams ($36.81) for rent. This is the amount that the volunteer before me paid for this house back in April of last year. The landlords in Russia have communicated to their brother (who will manage the house and myself) that now the asking price is 25,000 drams ($61.34). There is this baffling Peace Corps rule that you are not allowed to pay 5,000 drams over the allotted amount within the stipened. Luckily for me, there is an appeal process and my Regional Manager explained that I am a volunteer, it's going to be really difficult to pay the 25,000 (and I'm technically not allowed to, either).
I will wait to hear back from both him and Meri, so that hopefully everything is sorted out my next week. By sorted out, I mean I will begin the repeal process (which can take up to a month) and hopefully only pay 20,000 drams (5,000 extra out of the 145,144) for the month of March. Other then the money and the fact that I can't paint the bare cement walls, I am extremely exited about this place. Mainly because I get to buy new stuff; including but not limited to food items, linoleum, rugs, a teflon stick-free pan, and other things.
Every night before I go to bed I dream of living in there. I'm considering buying a bed right now, as it's become more and more important to me. There are other household goods that I'm giddy about buying, simply ecstatic.
Wish me luck on the repeal process!!
Song Of the Week: Taking Back Sunday - You're So Last Summer (yes, I still rock out to TBS)
Quote of the Week: "What is it- one of those 'pin - interest' things?"
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
"Let It Always Be..."
Is typically how an Armenian toast will begin. On February 13th, Armenians celebrate an equivalent of Valentine's Day, except their holiday is steeped in ancient tradition. Families will light a small fire, circle around it several times while holding hands and then each person jumps over/ through the fire 3, 5, or 8 times. This is a very big day for those newly engaged, or newly married. If this is your case, then your family will throw a big 'ole party and the small fire will be more like a bonfire. I'm not exactly sure how people jump over that fire... I celebrated with my host family and Siranush explained to me that jumping over the fire would cleanse the soul of sins, opening your heart to God's light (or something like that). Then I found this explanation for an Armenian news outlet, "The celebration of the Trndez is pagan in origin and is originally connected with sun/fire worship in ancient pre-Christian Armenia, symbolizing the coming of spring and fertility. On this day, sweethearts leap over bonfires with their hands clasped to symbolize eternal love." (Panarmenia.net)
Siranush had cooked up a tasty meal and Samvell was eager to drink his homemade wine with me once again. The last time we shared drinks together was before I left to go home. When he poured my first glass, the strong brandy-like smell hit my nostrils and the way that things were before I left returned to me. The sense that this is my family that cares for me, that I was truly happy and comfortable living here, and how I felt close with Samvell. I'm realizing that maybe my being away for so long, and returning was not only an adjustment for me - but for the family too. I can't presume to know the thoughts that went through their heads, but whatever tension that's existed the last few weeks between Samvell and I was totally washed away in that evening.
I hate to say it, and I'm sure that there are people who might disagree, but sometimes sitting down for a few drinks and getting buzzed will form a bond between two people. In this case, when we sit down to share his wine, Samvell forgets that I am this confusing anomaly of an independent, unmarried, young woman. I am Carolyn, who likes to talk about politics and the differences between Armenian and American culture. And he is Samvell, who loves these topics too and likes dancing to Michael Jackson. It was a long evening with toasts to the dead cat, my family back home, my new house, and to my always being a part of the family, that I will always have a place in their home.
In other news: I have found a house to live in! Next week my Regional Manager will come to approve the house and make sure that it meets Peace Corps standards. Once I have the place the my liking, expect pictures! We had a conference last week, it was great to see all the other volunteers that I don't normally get a chance to see. I brought one of the English teachers with me and it was great to work with her. My friend Phi is back home in California visiting family and I can't wait for her return! Though we will go weeks without seeing one another normally, the idea that I can't call her if I feel like it makes me miss her!!
Quote of the Week: "Look, I can do something like that, too!" (hacks a loogey)
Album of the Week: Cake 'Fashion Nugget'
Siranush had cooked up a tasty meal and Samvell was eager to drink his homemade wine with me once again. The last time we shared drinks together was before I left to go home. When he poured my first glass, the strong brandy-like smell hit my nostrils and the way that things were before I left returned to me. The sense that this is my family that cares for me, that I was truly happy and comfortable living here, and how I felt close with Samvell. I'm realizing that maybe my being away for so long, and returning was not only an adjustment for me - but for the family too. I can't presume to know the thoughts that went through their heads, but whatever tension that's existed the last few weeks between Samvell and I was totally washed away in that evening.
I hate to say it, and I'm sure that there are people who might disagree, but sometimes sitting down for a few drinks and getting buzzed will form a bond between two people. In this case, when we sit down to share his wine, Samvell forgets that I am this confusing anomaly of an independent, unmarried, young woman. I am Carolyn, who likes to talk about politics and the differences between Armenian and American culture. And he is Samvell, who loves these topics too and likes dancing to Michael Jackson. It was a long evening with toasts to the dead cat, my family back home, my new house, and to my always being a part of the family, that I will always have a place in their home.
In other news: I have found a house to live in! Next week my Regional Manager will come to approve the house and make sure that it meets Peace Corps standards. Once I have the place the my liking, expect pictures! We had a conference last week, it was great to see all the other volunteers that I don't normally get a chance to see. I brought one of the English teachers with me and it was great to work with her. My friend Phi is back home in California visiting family and I can't wait for her return! Though we will go weeks without seeing one another normally, the idea that I can't call her if I feel like it makes me miss her!!
Quote of the Week: "Look, I can do something like that, too!" (hacks a loogey)
Album of the Week: Cake 'Fashion Nugget'
Sunday, February 3, 2013
An Act of Kindness
That's what Peace Corps is hypothetically all about, right? Being good to those less fortunate than you, and all that other Lifetime feel good stuff. I realize that I rarely divulge information about anything outside of what's going on in my head, the friends I visit and other positive things. If you have the honor of speaking with me offline or are a PCV also, you know well that there is much more going on behind the scenes. That sometimes I leave school after only three classes, because I feel my head is going to explode with frustration with my counterpart. And somedays, I want to scream on the top of my lungs at the children.
If I'm wholly honest, all of January was a tough month for me. There were a few highlights, yes - like the bathtubs and traveling to see my friends. On a whole though- it was the most difficult month that I have had in service so far. I know where I'm hitting glass ceilings and it's utterly infuriating. I want to reach these kids, for them to like me, respect me and realize that I'm not a joke or a party planner or a babysitter. I am their teacher and I feel this is a fact often forgot.
The twin sisters that I live with, I am not going to call them my sisters (as many other PCVs do with their host family) because that would give you the wrong idea about our closeness. These girls have made it a point to distance themselves from me socially. I suspect their friends don't think I'm 'cool', and for crying out loud they are fifteen years old - the most wretched age of all, so there is quite a bit of distance between us. They are in the 10th grade and their classmates are at a precipice in their educational careers. There are few that will go on to University, as scholarships and such are not readily available here, and there are maybe two or three kids that can afford the tuition. And so there are few who care to try hard in class. They know the game: come to school on time, sit, make minimal disruptions, go home. Two years left and then mundane adult life will begin.
You may remember that there are no systems in place to punish students for bad behavior. Unfortunately, we were given no training in the ways of classroom management. In fact, we were assured that this responsibility was solely that of our Armenian counterparts. In my case, this is practically a joke. In many cases, the students are more likely to listen to me than to her. It's incredibly exhausting, frustrating, and makes me think 'I don't want children'. Last week, I hit my breaking point with the 10th grade. I had created a lesson where they had 'Agree' and 'Disagree' signs that I wanted them to hold up in response to questions like "My life will be better if I can speak English''. The plan was to hold a discussion where I would hopefully convince some students to care more about English class.
Well, they were so disruptive that we didn't even get through the questions. Some students refused to participate at all. They know well, there is nothing I can do about this. Maybe a low score for the day, but no detention - their parents won't find out, and in the grand scheme of things it really makes no difference at all. I got their attention by raising my voice saying something like, "THAT'S ENOUGH". It's very possible that I was purple in the face, as well. I then began to give a speech that went something like this:
"What did I do? Did I do something for you to have no respect for me, none, not even an ounce? Do you realize that the only reason I am here, in this country, is for you? My whole life is in America - my family, my friends (at this point I was on the verge of tears), and you hurt me. Everyday that you laugh at me, disrespect me, you hurt me. So everyday that I don't show up to class, is a day that I don't want to hurt. Do you understand?"
Apparently, I got my message across this time because their homeroom teacher ( a close mentor of Siranush) came over at the end of day. She looked entertained as she said, "So you got angry today? What happened?". I explained to her what I had said. She simply listens and told me that maybe today they understood. Ironically, my counterpart has decided that it's a good idea for me to take over this class complete for the next month. She has admitted to not knowing how to teach in anyway other than reading straight out of the awful textbooks. Well, these kids are for a real surprise when they learn this news. No more bullshit, no more nonsense.
So, my act of kindness? Well, it wasn't mine, it was Siranush's. Though I haven't been confiding or talking with her nearly as much as I was before leaving, she understands that I am struggling with things here at the moment. This morning she was awake the same time as me - a rarity. I wake up about 2.5 hours before school. I enjoy taking my time getting ready and having the kitchen to myself in the morning. At the moment, the shower is out of comission. I am getting the feeling they simply don't take full showers in the winter. I don't want to go out there either- it's freezing. (Don't worry kids, I shower at friend's). I badly needed to wash my hair before school today and I guess Siranush did too. She realized what I was preparing to do, and confirmed with me, then suggested that she wash my hair for me. I have seen her do this for the girls before, so I figured what the hell.
It struck me as such an act of love. It was really touching to have her wash my hair with such care, the same as she would her girls. It's moments like these that I rejoice in, holding onto these moments in the darker ones.
If I'm wholly honest, all of January was a tough month for me. There were a few highlights, yes - like the bathtubs and traveling to see my friends. On a whole though- it was the most difficult month that I have had in service so far. I know where I'm hitting glass ceilings and it's utterly infuriating. I want to reach these kids, for them to like me, respect me and realize that I'm not a joke or a party planner or a babysitter. I am their teacher and I feel this is a fact often forgot.
The twin sisters that I live with, I am not going to call them my sisters (as many other PCVs do with their host family) because that would give you the wrong idea about our closeness. These girls have made it a point to distance themselves from me socially. I suspect their friends don't think I'm 'cool', and for crying out loud they are fifteen years old - the most wretched age of all, so there is quite a bit of distance between us. They are in the 10th grade and their classmates are at a precipice in their educational careers. There are few that will go on to University, as scholarships and such are not readily available here, and there are maybe two or three kids that can afford the tuition. And so there are few who care to try hard in class. They know the game: come to school on time, sit, make minimal disruptions, go home. Two years left and then mundane adult life will begin.
You may remember that there are no systems in place to punish students for bad behavior. Unfortunately, we were given no training in the ways of classroom management. In fact, we were assured that this responsibility was solely that of our Armenian counterparts. In my case, this is practically a joke. In many cases, the students are more likely to listen to me than to her. It's incredibly exhausting, frustrating, and makes me think 'I don't want children'. Last week, I hit my breaking point with the 10th grade. I had created a lesson where they had 'Agree' and 'Disagree' signs that I wanted them to hold up in response to questions like "My life will be better if I can speak English''. The plan was to hold a discussion where I would hopefully convince some students to care more about English class.
Well, they were so disruptive that we didn't even get through the questions. Some students refused to participate at all. They know well, there is nothing I can do about this. Maybe a low score for the day, but no detention - their parents won't find out, and in the grand scheme of things it really makes no difference at all. I got their attention by raising my voice saying something like, "THAT'S ENOUGH". It's very possible that I was purple in the face, as well. I then began to give a speech that went something like this:
"What did I do? Did I do something for you to have no respect for me, none, not even an ounce? Do you realize that the only reason I am here, in this country, is for you? My whole life is in America - my family, my friends (at this point I was on the verge of tears), and you hurt me. Everyday that you laugh at me, disrespect me, you hurt me. So everyday that I don't show up to class, is a day that I don't want to hurt. Do you understand?"
Apparently, I got my message across this time because their homeroom teacher ( a close mentor of Siranush) came over at the end of day. She looked entertained as she said, "So you got angry today? What happened?". I explained to her what I had said. She simply listens and told me that maybe today they understood. Ironically, my counterpart has decided that it's a good idea for me to take over this class complete for the next month. She has admitted to not knowing how to teach in anyway other than reading straight out of the awful textbooks. Well, these kids are for a real surprise when they learn this news. No more bullshit, no more nonsense.
So, my act of kindness? Well, it wasn't mine, it was Siranush's. Though I haven't been confiding or talking with her nearly as much as I was before leaving, she understands that I am struggling with things here at the moment. This morning she was awake the same time as me - a rarity. I wake up about 2.5 hours before school. I enjoy taking my time getting ready and having the kitchen to myself in the morning. At the moment, the shower is out of comission. I am getting the feeling they simply don't take full showers in the winter. I don't want to go out there either- it's freezing. (Don't worry kids, I shower at friend's). I badly needed to wash my hair before school today and I guess Siranush did too. She realized what I was preparing to do, and confirmed with me, then suggested that she wash my hair for me. I have seen her do this for the girls before, so I figured what the hell.
It struck me as such an act of love. It was really touching to have her wash my hair with such care, the same as she would her girls. It's moments like these that I rejoice in, holding onto these moments in the darker ones.
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