Coming Full Circle

Our first week in Armenia, a walk in the mountains!

About two weeks ago I said goodbye to the best friend I made in this country. It’s taken me this long to write about it as I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt, or really how I could articulate my feelings. The morning that we spoke on the phone and she knew it was her time to go, the conversation was fluid and easy. I remember cooking myself breakfast in the now warm kitchen. The night before I’d attended my very first Armenian wedding and had a rather obvious full-circle moment.

As you may remember my very first visit to Malishka was quite alarming. Looking back on it now I wouldn’t react to the same scenario in this country so severely, but the truth is I was scared. I was scared when I first arrived, intimidated by the idea that I couldn’t express myself – a strength and inclination I’ve had my entire life. I was scared that I wasn’t cut out for Peace Corps, that I’d made a huge mistake. In truth, that first trip to Malishka was terrifying.

Site Announcement Day

Anyway, my guide or host was a young woman unable to communicate well in English. She wasn’t even the person I was told I was going to be with that day. She was no one, as far as I was concerned – a random member of the community. Already I was skeptical of the whole situation and then she didn’t stick to the plan I was aware of, the one where I get brought to my host family that has been vetted by the Peace Corps. I knew there was somewhere I was supposed to be and where I’d been brought wasn’t that.  I didn’t like this, not one bit. I didn’t like not being in control. I didn’t like that I had to ride this particular wave.  And yet I had no choice but to ride it, albeit cold sweats and a minor panic attack. Peace Corps had gotten real; I was alone in the middle of bumble fuck Armenia dependent on the good graces of others and depending on the good graces of others is not a thing I’m known for.

A birthday party during training, summer 2012

Flash forward to approximately 20 months later, in a silk party dress I used to wear at bars as an illegal underage patron, shoes from Italy and a simple braid in my hair because the blow dryer broke in the most inconvenient of moments, I watched as this same woman entered the reception hall in her wedding gown. Without realizing it, I was attending her wedding party. All I had known was that the bachelor of the school, the 30ish blue-eyed man that always had the teachers in giggles was finally getting married. I had no idea that he was marrying this particular girl. I laughed for about 30 minutes straight at the irony.

Areni Wine Festival 2012

Of all people in Peace Corps, Phi was going to understand exactly how hilarious this situation truly was. I texted her saying “I’m at my kidnappers wedding” and even though I hadn’t used that term in close to two years, she knew exactly to what I was referring, responding, “HAHAHAAH OMG”.  The next morning I called her after seeing a curious post on a private Facebook group for volunteers. She was offering up her printer, which is the equivalent to gold amongst volunteers. The moment I saw that post I knew what was happening. Later we had the conversation I had been prepared for, the one where I tell her it was the right thing to do, it was time to let go. I was lucky in that my schedule worked out and I got to say goodbye to her in person.

My 26th Birthday

We laughed, we cried and we indulged in our favorite food and drink, all of our favorite past times. The day after saying goodbye to her I was tired and irritable. I went to a performance at the school and encountered my greatest nemesis, snarky teenage boys. They have an uncanny ability to get under my skin and that day was no exception. I walked out of the school feeling beaten up and battered and had a most defeating realization, “There is only one person left. There is only one person in this whole country that I can call to comfort me because Brian is gone and Marisa is gone and now Phi.” It was one of the loneliest moments I have had in my time here. Maybe I am greedy, maybe I should be happy that there is at least one person. And I’m sorry for anyone reading this thinking, “But what about me?”. I can think of a few others who are comforts but they are not Phi, no one can begin to fill her shoes.

The last two weeks have been difficult. I’m mad at Armenia for taking my friend away. I’m jealous that she’s already home. I am tired of feeling tired and beaten up and needy. Then I have days that I want to continue the battle in memory of her … or something. I feel motivated and invigorated, ready to finish strong for the both of us.  In so many ways I feel my service has come full circle. With Phi gone, attending that young woman’s wedding, the start of Spring and the National Poetry Contest on the horizon… my time here is wrapping up. Like Dorothy before she leaves Oz there is a sense of both relief and sadness, a love and a hatred of all that has passed, the hope that calm and serenity will come now that some questions have been answered, and home isn’t really home anymore is it?

Pretty soon I’m going to wake up in my old bed, to sounds and smells so familiar they are a part of me, and wonder if it was all a dream.

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!

Enter

“You too, put your foot forward. If you do not wish to, then follow your fantasies. But if you prefer the secrets of the love of your soul you will sacrifice everything. You will lose what you consider to be valuable, but you will soon hear the sacramental word, ‘Enter’.” Catching the Thread Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee

This is a quote from a Sufism text that I downloaded before leaving. Every couple of days I will read a paragraph or two when I am waiting for gmail to load. I found this this quote to be so very apropos.

Tomorrow I will travel to Malishka, my permanent site. We found out where we were going on Monday and the last two days we had a counterpart conference. Our counterparts are Armenian teachers with varying experience and skills. My counterpart did not show up, but her friend came instead…Her friend, whom has no association with Peace Corps or my future project.

Anywho, I’ll be staying with my new host family for three nights and then am to travel back to Yerevan on my own! It’s about a two-hour trip via marshutni. Marshutni’s resemble kidnapper vans with seats in them. Have I talked about these before? I can’t remember, oh well. But yea, there are about 12 actual seats and will be packed with about 20 people. It’s ALWAYS an interesting ride, always. Whether it’s the snow cat* in the back, the loud Americans, teenage boys making fun, the women offering a sliver of a seat to an elderly woman, or the smelly armpit you could reach out and lick if you felt like it, there is always something entertaining happening. 

I will write a nice long post about my time down in Malishka when I return. Wish me luck!

*Snow Cat: An attractive Armenian man, exotic, nearly extinct and beautiful. I coined this term for all of my lady friends.

One month down, 26 to go!

This last week has been jam packed with travel. Last Sunday afternoon into the evening I was in Masis, which is about an hour from Akunk. On Monday, I took a field trip with nine other volunteers all the way to Stepanavan to visit GLOW Camp. Stepanavan is about a three-hour drive through the Armenian countryside. Girls Leading Our World is a worldwide organization, with Armenia’s version  a six-day camp with 40 participants happening once a year.

I had a day off on Tuesday (meaning I didn’t leave Akunk and had class all day).  Then on Wednesday the whole group went into Yerevan for the day. Armenia’s capital city is much like any other Western city. There’s a lot of traffic, stores, cafes, restaurants and even a Marriot. And, just like every other city in the world, it’s much more stuffy and hotter than the country. Thursday and Friday were both low key, but still full days of school.  Yesterday (Saturday) was a very long day. In the morning, we had a morning cross cultural session and language class in the afternoon. Afterwards, I rushed home to prepare for my twenty-two year old h.sister’s engagement party. Her fiancé is currently serving his mandatory two years of service in the army. He just finished up his first year and is home on break for ten days.

The Armenian engagement process is slightly different from that of the American one. There is an informal agreement between the couple and later, they become engaged at the party itself. Prior to the party, the bride and groom families come together and agree upon a date. At the party, the groom’s family arrives jointly in a procession, presenting the ring and other gifts (like 30 year old brandy). 

 Shortly after all the formal greetings, toasts begin. There are so many throughout the evening, mostly made by men. It was a tight squeeze in our makeshift banquet room, so I quickly learned how to eat an entire meal with my left hand. I probably looked incredibly ridiculous. Sitting across from me was the groom’s grandfather. Seeing that I understand 3% of what is being said, I watch everyone around me most of the time. This man was so hilarious and interesting. He made a lot of toasts right off the bat and for every toast, the men take a shot of vodka. All booze is drank out of shot glasses, even wine.

About 20 minutes in he got really emotional during a toast and started crying. It was short lived because it was time to eat. He wrapped meat and cheese inside a lavash wrap. He then reached into his pocket to whip out his own personal knife. He proceeded to cut this meat and cheese sandwich into tiny, tiny pieces. I was avidly watching him and as I looked up, he was smiling at me and pointed to his one tooth!  After this, we were friends. A little later on, he was making yet another toast and looked straight at me and said, “WOMAN! WHAT ARE YOU DRINKING?!” That cracked everyone in the room up, and then I was poured some more brandy.

He kept shaking my hand and winking at me the whole meal. I was having a swell time laughing at everything because well, they were laughing.  Papik (grandpa) was saying many toasts to me. Eventually, my h.uncle asked if I knew what he was saying and of course, I didn’t. He said something along the lines of “You beautiful American will be my wife for a short time”. My uncle asked me if I agreed, I did. Papik was pretty drunk after awhile and passed out in the bedroom.

Even though I couldn’t understand what was being said around me, I had a really good time. They had me toast my host sister in English and Armenian at different times. At the end of the night, my host sister's kids were blasting music in Grigor's industrial van. Nelly's "Just A Dream" came on and I experienced yet another surreal moment. I flashbacked to living in Boston and not knowing if Peace Corps was going to happen at all. Now that it's my reality, it sometimes feels like a dream. 

One Day In Akunk

This has been a super crazy week already and today was a really, really wonderful day. I awoke early and decided not to go running with Jesse, mainly because I wanted to do laundry and write before school. Also, I have been meaning to wake up early and spend the first hour of my day writing out in the garden with complete stillness. I finally honored this desire! It was such an awesome way to start my day.

I got up around 6:30 and rolled out of bed straight to the outhouse. I put the water on for the coffee and started doing the dishes from the night before. I can not, guiltlessly, use the kitchen without cleaning up. It’s so curious how when living at home the sentiment is not the same (sorry Mom). I clean up after myself, but am begrudging about doing it for others. In Armenia though, I would feel like a total shit head if I did not do everyone’s dishes in the am before they all wake. Also, there is typically around 25 flies floating around the kitchen area and I feel better about the flies if they have nothing to shit on.

After the dishes were done, the water was starting to boil so I added the finely ground coffee, turned the burner off and stirred. The sink and washer machine are streamlined from the same piping system (I’m probably using awful lingo here), so they cannot be used simultaneously. As my coffee cooled, I put my laundry in and turned the washer machine on. Afterwards, I grabbed my coffee, flannel, gurnal, and headed out to the garden. It was chilly this morning, but I was still able to get away with bare feet, yoga pants and said flannel.

The sun climbed over the mountain peaks as I mulled over the last two days. Writing about my eventful Sunday in Masis, where I drank 15 year old brandy with my host uncle and mother. I was examining how we view one another and the bonds I have began to form since being here. It’s almost been one month. So wild.  About an hour later, my h.mother came out and sat with me for a bit. Before breakfast, I hung my clothes out on the line to dry while my youngest host sister stood close by silently watching me.

After school, I walked over to my friend Phi’s house on the other side of town to deliver her packages (that lucky B!). She was not feeling so good today and skipped our afternoon TEFL session. I brought her her package because I knew there would be goodies in there, and I wanted some danggit! A couple of hours later I walked home and stopped to chat with the boy gang because Hasmik, a little girl whom speaks English pretty well, was with them and spoke out to me. I got all of their names, those little rats! Hopefully they will treat me less like a sideshow freak and more like a neighbor in the weeks to come. 

After dinner, I went out to the garden and plucked some fresh mint stalks for my nightly tea. My h.mother had started cooking something interesting and I told her I wanted to help. She let me, but not without much reprimanding at first. We were preparing food for the morning. It was basically mashed potatoes with different fresh herbs from her garden, with salt wrapped in dough. Grigor, my host father, must have smelled them from wherever the hell he was because he showed up out of nowhere and ate about 8 of them. 

And that, my friends, is one day in Akunk.

p.s. Send me a package full of unexpected extravagant treats and I will be indebted to you for years to come. 

Week 3 in Akunk

This last week was the roughest one thus far.  Now that the adrenaline and excitement has worn off, reality has settled in some. Language class has gotten increasingly difficult and we only get one day off a week. There are few stolen moments of down time.  It may not appear that way to my host family, but it’s hard to consider it down time when you’re not in your home, not speaking your native tongue and have to let several people know of your whereabouts at all times.

Things were a little different this week, as the TEFL director insisted that her two-hour trainings be treated with the same importance as language class. We did an experiment where TEFL training was switched into the morning slot and language the afternoon. Nobody, nobody I tell you, was happy (this is false). Sitting through four hours of Armenian in a hot stuffy classroom after eating a heavy lunch is not ideal. I’m not complaining, but… well I guess I am. 

I so look forward to getting more familiar with the culture and eventually being off on my own. It’s easy to forget how awesome having FREEDOM can be. I am free in the philosophical sense but a lot of my life is scheduled here. There are things I have to do that frankly, I do not want to do. It’s also weird to feel guilty about wanting/needing to decompress. Some days I feel like a monkey in a cage whom needs to be performing at all times.  My host sisters are sort of fascinated with me; when I come home from school they want to hear all about it and take me places, and all I want to do is take a nap. Having a younger host sister is making me appreciate the fact that I was the baby of my family. It’s definitely a switch up in the roles…and necessarily an easy one.

Six days a week, I walk to and from school twice a day. One morning an enormous, hideous, terrifying bird began harassing me. It is the first time that I have felt truly afraid since being in Armenia. I have never seen a bird like this in America, but he’s a little smaller than a seagull and loud as hell. He was darting and squawking at me over and over until I literally started running a little bit. Just in time, I realized that I was about to trample over two other similar looking birds.  I was glad to understand why he was harassing me, but it didn’t make it any less scary. The next day, I saw some of the little boys that live near there messing with the hurt (maybe old?) birds. And as you might have already guessed, this same bird was losing his mind again.

Now, everyday I have to suck it up as this bird does his best to scare me away. Then on the way home, I have to get tough for the 10 little boys that harass me. They range in ages five to about fifteen. Some days, I feel like an 8yr old again. My new defense mechanism for the boy gang is to speak to them in English, just as they speak to me in Armenian. That worked for about two days…

But don’t worry. There is a lot of laughter, with my host mother and my friends here in Akunk. On Thursday of last week we had the opportunity to meet up with the group of volunteers who got here one year ago (A-19’s). We had group sessions for about three hours or so and then everyone went out to the field to play Capture the Flag. It was so much fun. I forgot how much I love to compete in big team games like that.  On the hour drive back to Akunk, in my favorite seat on our bus, Bobby D crooned through my headphones as the sun began to set across the Armenian landscape. Moments and images like these are truly worth every frustration. I smile to myself, giggle like an insane person and realize again, I AM IN ARMENIA!! 

Settling In

Hey Babies

I miss you, I love you!

I just had an awkward experience where my host mother’s family came over around 9pm at night and her nephew told me “ I would like you in my house” in English. Things just keep getting more and more interesting…

I get internet about three times a week and for two of those days it’s only for two hours. Once I get to my permanent site, it will be more regular. I have finally gotten myself a working phone and it’s so nice to be in contact with the volunteers not located in my village. It definitely lightens up the day when I get an ABSURD text from a friend that I can giggle to myself about.  For those of you interested in sending me presents, love notes, or pictures of yourself to put up on my wall then ask me and I will send you my address in an private email or message.

I have been able to get some sort of physical activity in at least once a day. There are two other women that I practice yoga with two times a week. It is such a pleasure to have these ladies in Akunk so that we may relax and rejuvenate together. I am so pleased with myself for having purchased a travel size, battery operated boom box thingy. (It’s cool as hell and all I want to do is put on some futuristic outfit and walk around with the little guy on my shoulder).   If you’re looking for something portable with good sound quality, check out Logitech.  It is exactly what I need and the envy of all my friends. (I made that up). I really must say, I brought a lot of unnecessary clothing but my speakers, yoga mats and essential oils have been so imperative in this transition. With these things, I can easily get back to a place of normalcy and calm. Interestingly enough, I have not really had to ‘get back’ to that place, as I’ve  yet to stray too far away from equilibrium.

Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet, but I feel totally at ease about where I am. Of course, there have been some minute challenges in the last couple of weeks. At times I have been irritable, exhausted and overwhelmed but all of these moments have been passing and temporary. Now that my host family’s situation has returned to normal everything else seems inconsequential. I’m amazed at how much I have been able to pick up the language thus far.  This morning on my walk to school (which takes about 7 minutes) I came upon a neighbor that I have yet to see. I was able to have a fluid interaction with her and could understand what she said to me. It was so exciting!!!

I got placed into the group of advanced speakers when we first arrived and a lot of Armenians have been complimenting me on my Armenian, so my confidence is pretty high right now. I don’t always get things right in class, but I sound good. As far as I am concerned, if you have the correct grammar but you can’t pronounce the words correctly, it sort of defeats the point. But hey, that’s just how I feel annndddd I probably feel that way because my grammar sucks but I pronounce things very well.

So, the other morning I was dreaming that I was in upstate New York, where my family’s summer home is on Lake George. In real life, I was invited to the annual 4^th of July party on Facebook. In the dream, I was at the party. It was early in the day and I was distressed because I was supposed to be in Armenia!!  I just recall being confused that I wasn’t there and wondering how I was going to get back. I awoke with a jolt and was totally surprised to find myself actually in Armenia in my comfortable little warm bed. I thought it was interesting. My immediate family members probably will not think so, as they have been listening to my dream recollections and expected to be as fascinated with my subconscious as I was my whole life. Ha. Maybe you can find some meaning in the dream!

Hope ya’ll are doing well!

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. 

Akunk, Armenia

Well, it seems my brain was boiling over when I was writing my previous post. I am feeling a lot more clear headed now.

I have been with my host family for two nights now. Unfortunately, the morning before my arrival one of my host sisters was taken to the hospital. I have yet to meet her or my host mom at this point. Angela, 22, is one of my three host sisters and she speaks English very well. She will be a great, great help to me in learning Armenia. Unlike my language teachers, she is very open about telling me my pronunciation is wrong. That may change though, because on Friday the language class will be split into three groups. We were asked to give a self assessment of where we are and group ourselves with other similar levels within the class. Luckily, I have been told by my host family, my friend's host family and the man at the store that my Armenian (Hayeren) is very clear and good. Apparently, it's impressive. Before coming I thought this may be a possibility, as my history in music has given me a good ear for copying sounds precisely and using my tongue to make them.

I will say though, I am struggling to make guttural noises. It is so hard!! There are two different letters in the Armenian alphabet that are guttural and  differentiating them is nearly impossible at the moment. My host sister will be working on that though, don't worry.

There is much and more to say, but that is all the time I have. One quick tip: When travelling in Armenia and female, do not smoke cigarettes... they'll think you're 'available'. So much for wondering if I would be able to quit completely. Oh, and my bathroom is an outhouse, with a hole in ground. Ask for change and ye shall receive. 

Greetings from Armenia

Hello Babies!!!!

I finally made it! I am here in Armenia which is about an hour outside the capital city of Yerevan. The A-20 group has been here since Friday morning. When we arrived, the country manager and other Peace Corps Armenia staff took us to the Cathedral of Zvartnots (c.650 - 659 A.D.) to watch the sunrise. It is tradition for when new groups arrive each year and it is really special. I just posted pictures on the FB, so check them out there.

It's absolutely mind blowing that it is just shy of one week since my last blog post. Yesterday I started drafting a blog post that was going to have the break down of my travel and simply recalling those three days was tiresome, so I dropped that idea. So much has happened, I have met so many new people and been told a great multitude of things, trying to put together a succinct post is proving to be a challenge. I feel like my head to going to explode... in a good way.

This is the short of it: Tuesday I flew to D.C. and had about a 5 hour introductory session there. The next morning all 44 of us gathered our (overwhelming) luggage and headed off to Vienna. After a nine hour flight, we had day rooms right near the airport and had a to chance to grab some rest. I took a bath. Later that night we flew out around 10:30pm and arrived in Yerevan at 4:30am. Next was the cathedral, then an hour drive to our remote location. This was my first opportunity to sleep since the day before and I passed out like a rock. We were briefly introduced to our teachers and one another. For the last two days we have been in language, health, security and technical sessions that are about one hour each but last throughout the day. Luckily last night I went to bed and woke up at my normal, it feels great to be adjusted to the time.

Tomorrow I meet my PST host family. I am so very excited to unpack my things and get settled in. I will be there for approximately 11 weeks, whereafter my service truly begins and I am moved to my permanent site. I don't want to get ahead of myself, though. The next three months will be a great challenge, but I welcome it. Thus far I have been diligent with my yoga, writing and meditation practices and it seems this has helped to keep me both balanced and... nice.


Later gators!