Week 1 in Akunk

Week 1 in Akunk

Sunday was the first day in about two weeks that upon waking I was able to lounge in bed without a care. Nowhere to be, nothing pressing to do … it’s a feeling I easily embrace.  My host sister is still not home from the hospital and her mother is with her, so the house is pretty quiet right now. Every moment of silence that I steal is infinitely cherished. I was able to sneakily make my own coffee in an American sized cup and continue reading book 5 of Fire and Ice uninterrupted.  Simply thinking about it makes me smile.

 I just returned home from a 40^th birthday party for one of the volunteers.  Stacy is from Oklahoma and has an amusing larger than life personality. His family invited the eleven other volunteers in my village of Akunk ( Ah-koo-nk) over for treats and toasts. All four cakes were home made and incredible tasty (hamov). Currently, I do not have a working Armenian cell phone number, so my language teacher arrived unannounced at my house to escort me over to the party.  One of the host brothers was waiting outside in his Mercedes. This guy cracks me up, he’s sort of like an Armenian John Travolta in Grease. He is a very handsome, muscular young man and is aware of his appeal so much so that he rocks a sleeveless button up shirt regularly. 

Wait, wait, wait, Mercedes?!?! Let me explain. Like any other place in the world, there are varying socioeconomic status’ within Akunk. The difference between the disparities here and in America is the importance or priority of certain amenities. For instance, my host family has an outhouse but is in the process of putting a swimming pool in where the garage once was.

I believe I mentioned it before, but, my family is relatively less wealthy than the other host families. I have yet to go to a host home and find it equal to or even close to my standard of living. Admittedly, this has been a little bit hard to swallow. As a coping mechanism, I have constantly reminded myself of a few things. For one, I like to think that the adjustment to my future permanent site is going to be a lot smoother. Secondly, it’s an amazing experience in being on this side of the equation. One of my new friends is living in a really nice host home and in America she was sharing an one bedroom apartment with her mother and brother. So ultimately, she deserves to be in that nice house more than I do. I have known luxury, so what good would it do me to simply continue in that lifestyle? I wouldn’t experience the sort of personal growth that I am seeking in this experience.

 You’re probably wondering what I mean by nice in reference to the houses. Each new home that I enter surprises me more than the last. Driving around, you would never expect to find brand new flat screen TV’s and up to date bathrooms and kitchens. From the outside, the soviet era looking buildings remain… concrete, metal, dirt roads. Things appear to be very downtrodden. Leaving the street and entering a home is like stepping through a time machine. While there are new appliances, there are still many out of date ways of thinking. For instance, my sister is attending college in Yerevan and very much loves American pop culture. If she was dropped into any American city she would in no way look out of place. Yet, she adheres to many unfounded beliefs. For instance, being barefoot in the house will make you sick and water is only to be drank on an empty stomach in the morning or else it’ll fatten you up. Well, if that’s true then I’m going to get even more fat and sick.

So, I am going to try something new. If there is something you want to ask me about specifically, ask away. I figure there are topics I am leaving out that some may be interested to know about. My brain has been processing so much that to try and coherently regurgitate everything is virtually impossible.