Afternoon in the Park

Climbed up the Cascades and spent the afternoon at Victory Park today.   Unfortunately, most of the trees are already bare.  But I tried to capture what was left of Vosgee Ashun!  Just some pics for now. 

Statue of author William Saroyan on Mashtots street.

Alexander Tamanian, architect and city planner in front of Statue Park and Cascades

Statue Park

Cascades... all the fountains have been turned off and the flowers are gone!

Monument at top of Cascades

Victory Park - Statue of Mother Armenia in background

Cleaning Lady Experiment Update

Unfortunately, the experiment isn't progressing as I was hoping it would.  The last 2 days, she hasn't even responded with a hello when I say hello.  I think I am going to change my strategy and ask her how she is rather than saying hello.  Let's see what Monday will bring :)

R

Passage Through Hell

Before I begin the story, I think it’s worth mentioning for those of you who don’t know that buildings in Armenia are quite different from what we are used to in North America.  From what I understand, people own their apartments.  But there is no Homeowners’ Association or equivalent to maintain any of the common areas, such as staircases and hallways.  Therefore, the common areas are often run down, dirty, and dark.   Every apartment appears to have a light into the hallway.  But most of the time, these lights are turned off, because people do not want to waste money on electricity to light up the hallway when they aren’t using it. 

Last night, when I came home, my building’s staircase was darker than usual.  My neighbor’s hall light has a motion detector, so I can usually make it up to the third floor without my flashlight because the light from the street and the light from the motion detector are usually enough.   But it was pitch black last night, and I had to take out the flashlight.  When I got into my apartment, the light wouldn’t turn on.  It seems my building had no power.  

My apartment was warm, but when I touched the heaters, I realized they had cooled.  I checked the Baxi gas regulating machine, and I realized that the Baxi runs on electricity.  I thought maybe I hallucinated, because it just didn’t make sense to me.  So I checked again.  Sure enough, the little screen that normally has Russian on it was blank, and I saw the spot where the Baxi was plugged into the wall.  So even though I had gas heat and hot water, I would need electricity to get the hot water and heat to work.  I’ve been here about two weeks, and so far, the Baxi machine has broken twice, once I had no water, and now I had no power.  I live in the “best” part of town, and I am wondering what winter will be like.  I really can’t imagine what winter was like years ago during Armenia’s dark days. 

The power came back on around 4 am, so my apartment didn’t have a chance to get too cold.  And even if the outage had lasted longer, I suppose after hearing the stories last night, I really don’t have anything to complain about. 

Last night, our volunteer group went to Dzidzernagapert (Armenian Genocide Memorial) after dark.   Dzidzernagapert is an overwhelming place, especially when you begin to think about what it represents.  The relatively small eternal flame burns inside an enormous and intimidating stone fire pit.  In fact, the fire pit is made up of twelve stone columns placed in a circle that lean toward the fire sitting in the center.  The stone columns represent the regions in Western Armenia (Eastern Turkey today) that were destroyed during the Genocide.  Between each column is a staircase that leads you to the center where the flame burns.  When you are in the center, you feel the weight of the surrounding columns on your shoulders.  It’s overwhelming.  It’s eerily quiet. You can’t escape the thoughts of the pain and suffering many of our families endured. 

Outside this fire pit structure is a long wall with the names of the towns that were destroyed engraved on it.  There is also a tall monument that is supposed to symbolize the rebirth of the Armenian people.  I can’t help but think… rebirth?  How many times?  As many times as necessary, I suppose. 

We laid down blankets on one of the staircases and sat down.  The Director of the volunteer program began to read passages from a book called Passage Through Hell, which traces one survivor’s experiences.   As we sat in the cold night watching the flame, we listened to this man’s childhood memories… the sounds of bombs and guns… the last kiss his father gave him… how he was deported with other Armenians… how he watched his mother weep as she held his brother’s cold, lifeless body against her chest… how he and his siblings dug a shallow grave with rocks and sticks to burry his baby brother… how he watched his sisters die, one by one, and their bodies thrown to the side of the road or thrown into carts with dozens of other dead bodies… how he saw crows and dogs eat the corpses of Armenians that had perished on the side of the road… how he watched a Turkish soldier behead a woman in the caravan without a second thought merely for cursing the Sultan… how the Turkish soldiers tried to rape six Armenian girls one night, but the women in the caravan stole guns and shot two soldiers to save the girls’ honor, and how the remaining Turkish soldiers retaliated by cutting the girls they were going to rape into pieces…. how the Arab women on the side of the road showed so much kindness… how he ended up in a mass grave tied at the waist and at his feet to a woman’s corpse and stuck under three other bodies, but cut the rope with his teeth, managed to escape and survive.  

How can they say that these were casualties of war?  How can they continue to deny what happened?  How?

 

“When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy” – Khalil Gibran

I know everyone likes to come to Armenia in the summer because the weather is nice, but I just can’t believe how beautiful Yerevan is in the Fall!  People are missing out on “Vosgee Ashun” by coming in the summer!   Vosgee Ashun translates to golden fall.  I spend most of my time in Kentron (Center) since that’s where I am living and working.  The Center has some parks, but the streets are not really tree-lined.  There’s a lot of concrete.  I guess all of this became more apparent to me when I left the center the other day to visit a friend of the family, and I saw the gold trees lining the streets of the other neighborhoods.  Actually, much of the ground was also covered in leaves.  I saw so many children collecting them and playing with them.  Fall in Armenia is so bright and happy.  The colors of nature blend so naturally with the orange and pink tones of the buildings.  It’s as if all is in harmony.   Each time I comment, people tell me that it’s even more beautiful once you leave the city and get into the mountains.  I can imagine!  I am going to have to make a trip before winter.

I love the sense of family and community in the Armenian culture.  When went to visit our family friend, her cousins were also there.  There were about 9 of us sitting around a coffee table that was covered with food.  In fact, there was so much food on the table, there was nowhere for me to put down my coffee cup!  Of course, they force-fed me 4 different kinds of cake, fruits, and 2 kinds of chocolate.  I think the key to surviving any kind of meal in an Armenian home is to always leave food on your plate so that you don’t get an unwanted refill.  I will put this theory to the test next time and keep you updated.

It was great spending the afternoon with this family.   They made me feel so welcome.  They made me laugh.  In fact, we laughed almost the entire time… like when I am with my own family.  They were also patient with my limited vocabulary and took the time to explain things to me.  I ended up learning quite a few Armenian words, including the word for “virgin,” which was not something I had ever thought of!   It came up in a conversation about prostitution.

Anyway, the owner of the home was making “tettu” the day I was there.  Tettu is pickle.  The women of Armenia pickle vegetables before winter… cabbage (“gaghamp”), cauliflower (“dzaghgagaghamp”), peppers (“biber”), carrots (they call it “gazar”), cucumbers (“varunk”), garlic (“sekhtor”), etc.  My mom used to pickle veggies when I was younger.  She used to make a few jars each year.  But this was more like a vat or a barrel of some sort.  It’s like this woman had the entire supermarket produce section in her pot.  No wonder people look at me funny when I buy one tomato and one clove of garlic!  She had so much stuff in the pot, that she couldn’t even cover it.  She said she will add weight to the top, and it will decrease in size.   She had prepared the salt mixture separately, and she was going to be mixing it.   I am sure I will get to taste this soon!   

Most of the people I spent the afternoon with were over 60.  This had two consequences.  First, none of them spoke English – though the nephew of our family friend is Anglophone, and he helped me with some words.  Second, listening to their experiences was fascinating.   They wanted to hear about life in North America.  And when I mentioned that I love to travel, they eagerly listened to my stories of Dubai, Oman, Argentina, etc.  In return, they told me about their experiences.  The perspective here was a bit different than what I had previously heard.  There was less longing for Communist times.  They were so full of life and joy.  However, they echoed a complaint I had previously heard about the government allowing too much construction in Yerevan. 

It was interesting to hear their stories about the dark days of the energy crisis.  It’s not the first time I’ve heard people talk about this, but this was the lengthiest conversation I’ve had on the topic.  They explained how everyone came together to survive.  One lady recounted the time she brought her neighbors boiling water and how much that meant to them.  They also talked about celebrating birthdays and special events huddled by the fire.  It just goes to show that it’s the small things and the company of loved ones that really matters in life.  It’s just so amazing how they were able to find moments of happiness during what was probably the most difficult time of their lives.  They never gave up.  They just moved forward.  And that’s what they want for the country now.  There’s no point in crying over the past.  You survive and move on.  Their strength and spirit was inspiring.  I was so impressed by their victorious attitude. 

My volunteer experience is going well!  I can’t really discuss the project I am working on, because I don’t think it is public yet.  But I will say that it focuses on First Amendment issues such as freedom of speech and freedom of the press.  In my opinion, it’s an ambitious project, but one that’s necessary.  

An update on the Cleaning Lady Experiment.  As I mentioned in my last post, the very well-dressed cleaning lady looked at me like I was crazy when I said hello to her the other day.  But I have made progress!   Yesterday I said “parev” (hello) and she looked at me with skepticism and said “parev tsez” (hello to you).   Today, I said “parev tsez” and she looked at me and immediately answered “parev tsez.”   Tomorrow, I will add “vonts ek” (how are you).   Let’s see how she reacts. 

Tomorrow evening, I will be going to Dzidzernagaprt (Genocide Memorial) to hear the experiences of some survivors.  It should be interesting.  This weekend, we will be doing a city cleanup project.  I can’t believe the garbage in this country.  The other day, I saw a man throw a tissue on the floor right next to the garbage.  It kills me!  

Below are some photos of Vosgee Ashun.  They were taken from my office, which is in the concrete jungle.  It’s from the 9^th floor and it’s the corner of Tumanyan and Hyususayin.  I am hoping to get some better pictures of Vosgee Ashun this weekend.  

Sunset from the plane - flight from Paris to Yerevan

View of mountains from plane

Our office Christmas Tree

View from our office balcony.  The big light bulb looking thing in the center right is the building next to mine.  The street below is the corner of Teryan and Toumanyan.

Statue of Mayr Haystan (Mother Armenia) from our office.  This is my daily view.  All the cafes are closed.

Hyususayin street.  

The Opera is right across the street.  

Tumanyan street.  The best lahmajun place in town is on the right hand side.

Swan Lake sans swans or water.  They will turn this into a skating rink once it gets cold enough.  This is the view directly below our office.

Domestic Violence, the Rule of Law, Temperamental “Baxi” Machines, and Vosgee Ashun in Yerevan

When I arrived last week, I met with the group that I am volunteering through for my orientation.  We began talking about the different organizations in Armenia that are fighting for change, including Women’s groups who are working towards equality.  This conversation led to the subject of Zaruhi Petrosyan.  The story has apparently been all over the news in Armenia and the Diaspora, but I hadn’t heard of it. 

For those who haven’t heard, Zaruhi was the 20-year old mother of an infant who was killed by her husband and mother-in-law.  Her injuries were horrific.  It seems her mother-in-law even went as far as breaking her fingers when she tried to dial the police for help.  Zaruhi’s story is really something.  Unfortunately, I know most of us have heard it before.  I have pasted links below to the news stories that contain more details. 

It seems domestic violence is a serious problem in the country.  I find it interesting since Armenia is considered to be a country with a low violent crime rate.  I know that domestic abuse isn’t reported.  But I am beginning to wonder if street crimes are perhaps not reported either.  I will have to delve into this over the next few weeks. 

While I certainly feel for Zaruhi and all victims of abuse, I am the type who tries to get to the heart of the problem.   On Thursday, there was a protest in memory of Zaruhi and against this type of crime.  They are urging the government to enact domestic abuse laws.  Armenia currently has no laws against domestic violence on the books.  As such, while Zaruhi’s husband is now being investigated for murder, it seems – from what I have read so far – that the mother-in-law will walk free, because she was not the murderer.  People have been fighting to get domestic violence laws on the books for years.  I believe there is even draft legislation in existence.  But even if we were successful in getting these laws enacted, who would enforce them?   It seems to me the core problem is that the rule of law is non-existent. 

Maybe it’s the lawyer in me, but almost every time I think of an issue or problem with the country, the non-existence of the rule of law makes me realize that any efforts to change things will likely be futile!  Coming from a country where no one is above the law (technically), it’s hard to imagine how a country can function when the laws don’t mean anything.  I am not saying we should force our American laws on other nations.  But the concept of the rule of law, in my opinion, is the basis of any functioning democracy.   

In my capacity as a volunteer, I’ve been reviewing some interesting statistics.  One of them listed the top 5 concerns of the Armenian people.  Unemployment concerned 65% of people; it was #1.  At number five with 0.5% or so was rule of law.  The reason this statistic interested me so much is because it made me wonder if the Armenian people are still in survival mode. After all, the last 19 years of independence, and even going back to the earthquake of 1988, have been far from rosy.   But things are better now.  Not necessarily good, but better.  It’s a good time to make a shift from survival to fight for freedom.  And that must include, in my humble opinion, making the rule of law a priority. 

I feel like I’ve been bombarded with things to think about.  I’ve only been here a few days, and these are just some preliminary observations.  But with every passing day, I feel like I am getting closer to understanding them.  It’s definitely an interesting place to be right now. 

On a less serious note, it turns out my Baxi machine is quite temperamental.  The heat and hot water work most of the time.  I feel like there’s someone in my apartment every few days to “fix” it.  I was talking about this with some of the interns at my office.  It sounds like there’s always someone with Baxi issues.  Luckily, the weather is still quite bearable.  The winter will be a different story.  I suppose I will have things better figured out by then. 

On the flight to Paris last week, I met an American who works for an international bank.  He has been in Armenia for 15 months.  Last night, I met up with him and his fiancée.   They were really nice.  It was fun to hear the perspective of a non-Armenian American.  He is, of course, in love with the food.  He said that he has lost 60 lbs in the past year just because of the lifestyle and the quality of the food.

I have been enjoying the food as well.  A few days ago, a friend introduced me to an eggplant salad made with yogurt, garlic, shredded beef, and chopped walnuts.  It was out of this world delicious!  I also ate a heart and lung sandwich at Tumanian Shawarma.  Yes, I really did.  And I am proud that I tried it.  It was all rolled in lavash (Armenian flat bread) along with onions, parsley, dressing, peppers and such things, so I could not differentiate between the heart and the lung.  But all the meat I ate was quite lean and a bit on the chewy side.  It was pretty good.  I would probably eat it again, though I like the other sandwiches better.  They are less chewy.

Last week, my friend and his wife had me over for an incredibly delicious meal!  We had fish, potatoes, pickles, yogurt, veggies… it was just lovely!  I love Armenian hospitality.  And in true Armenian style, I ate way too much!  They even gave me some home-made walnut jam to take home with me.  I love the walnut jam!  Aside from the food, the company was great too.  My friend’s sister, who I met that day, was an interesting person to speak to.  She asked if we know that a criminal is 100% guilty, how can we let him walk free just because a few words are not said.  She was referring to Miranda.  We also shared a cab back into the city.  It was interesting to hear her perspective of how Yerevan used to be and how it is now.  But I am still sorting out all of that information, so I will write more about that another time. 

The yogurt here is also at the top of my list.  It has so much flavor.  In fact, I found some kiwi yogurt that I am having for breakfast right now!  I am even making tan.  Tan is a drink made by mixing yogurt, water, and salt.  I don’t ordinarily like tan, but the yogurt here makes all the difference.  I had a stomach ache a few days ago, and I was told that the best thing was to drink tan because the cultures in the yogurt help regulate things.  Two people told me that, and I think it may have worked. 

I can’t wait to discover more home remedies.  I recently told a Yerevantsi (someone from Yerevan) that I had a blister the last time I was here.  I told her how I bought some medicine for it that turned my toe orange for nearly 2 months.  She told me that next time, I should put honey and a bandage.  I will keep that in mind!  I am not interested in any more orange toes. 

Work is good so far.  Our office is on the 9^th floor, and I have a lovely view of the Opera and of the Mayr Hayastan (Mother Armenia) statue from my desk.  I see a mix of modern and Soviet-style buildings and gold-colored tree tops. It’s all a really beautiful mix. 

The street where our office is located is only a few years old.  I recently learned that its construction caused a lot of outrage.  The government was supposed to preserve some of the architectural gems that previously stood here.  Unfortunately, they have all been replaced with some bland buildings.  It wasn’t my favorite street when I saw it the last time I was here.  And I suppose now that I know the story, I like it even less.  But I guess it is what it is; there are more important battles to fight.

Today, we will put up the office Christmas tree.  It has been fun getting to know everyone here.  I am still struggling a bit with the language, though I feel my Armenian is getting stronger every day.  I’ve been trying to read every day.  Everyone speaks English, but I am trying to get everyone to speak to me in Armenian.  The office is warm-ish, but there is definitely heat here.  And yes, there is cigar smoking going on.  It seems to be mostly the organization’s founder who smokes in his office.  So I suppose no one can really say anything.  The office also has multiple balconies, and the other employees go outside to smoke.  The office brings in lunch for the employees 3 times a week.  We had Chinese food the other day, and I can’t believe how good it was!   The office also provides real plates, cutlery, glasses, and cups.  There’s a woman who comes every night to wash it.  This cleaning person is always in a skirt and heels… very different than any of the cleaning crews I’ve seen in the U.S..  No one says hello to her.  I felt bad, so I said hello.  She looked at me like I was crazy.   But how do you make eye contact with someone and not say hello?  I can’t do that.  Everyone deserves a “hello, how are you.”  Since this is supposed to be cultural exchange, I will continue to say hello. 

http://www.armenianweekly.com/2010/11/18/in-the-name-of-zaruhi-a-call-to-action-in-armenia-and-diaspora/

http://www.armenianweekly.com/2010/10/10/domestic-abuse/

Getting Settled

I am in Armenia!  I arrived about 3 days ago.  My apartment is great, except for the fact that the toilet didn’t flush, and I had no gas heat or hot water upon my arrival.  For the first couple of days, I took cold showers and relied on electric heat since the machine they call a “baxi” wasn’t working properly.  The “baxi” appears to be the gas regulator machine.  Mine happens to be a fancy (i.e. complicated), digital type.  Unfortunately, everything is in Russian, including the manual.  So randomly pressing buttons wasn’t a successful strategy.  Luckily, my attentive Realtor brought over a handyman who speaks Russian, who was able to fix it after about 5 return visits.  My apartment is now an inferno, and my water is scalding.  But having felt the alternative, I can’t complain! 

Yerevan is certainly a different city in the winter since all the outdoor cafés are closed.  Still, it does not appear to have lost its charm, though I don’t think I have been here long enough to judge that yet.  I will keep you posted.  

So far, the only new thing I’ve seen is a hospital in the outskirts of town.  A family friend recently had surgery, and I went for a visit.  It was quite interesting.  On its face, the hospital appeared to be clean, functional, and equipped with most everything needed to care for patients.  The place was also clean and kept very simple.   In both the U.S. and Canada, we are used to seeing decorated lobbies and waiting areas.  This place was much simpler.  You also have to bring your own bed sheets and food.  Anyway, decorations are not part of medical care, so it doesn’t really matter.  And who really wants to eat hospital food anyway?  But what got to me was that it was deserted.  During my time there, I only saw 2 nurses and one doctor.  There was no nurse’s station, and someone pointed to a doctor’s office with bare desks and no bodies.  Maybe it’s because it’s the weekend.  I am usually an optimist, but I can’t find the positive in this one.  I would really hate to be stuck alone in that place.  I think our family friend is lucky to have a family to care for her.  

The weather has been sunny and great.  It’s in the 60s during the day and in the 30s at night.  Coming from Florida, I am naturally curious about the cold.  I asked the driver who picked me up from the airport if they predicted a cold winter.  He said they look to the onion to predict the harshness of the winter.  If the onions have thick peels, then they expect a cold winter.  So I asked him the obvious, and he replied “I hate to have to be the one to break it to you, but the onion peels this year are a little thick.”   Being a skeptic, I went and bought some onions yesterday.  Sadly, he appears to be correct.  Now I am wondering about the accuracy of the ground hog, which I consider to be a similarly ridiculous tradition.  A quick Google search reveals Punxsutawny Phil has a 39% accuracy rate.  But I am not taking any chances.  I am going for a walk.  It’s beautiful outside! 

Feeling hot! hot! hot!

I leave for Armenia in 9 days!   I think Mother Nature loves me, because she sent a cold front to Florida to prepare me.  On the day I leave, Yerevan will have a high of 60F and a low of 37F.  I can handle that! 

I know my apartment is heated because I see pictures of heaters in every room.  Assuming the gas is actually hooked up, it should be nice and toasty in there!

Also, during my interview, when I asked them to tell me about the office, they told me multiple times that the office is heated.  It was almost like they were using the heat as a selling technique.  Most places in the US will tell you there's a microwave in the breakroom!  In fact, when I asked if the office was smoking or non-smoking, they told me again that it was heated!  So as I sat there wondering if I am going to be stuck in a smoky inferno for 3 months, the gentleman on the other end of the line told me there is a balcony because the office is non-smoking.  It turns out, people smoke on the balcoy.  Then he paused and clarified that it was non-smoking usually, and when people do smoke in the office, it is "only mostly cigars." 

Fabulous.  I am sure all the smokers in the office (which will likley be every one other than me) will step out onto the small balcony in -20C weather to get their fix and will limit indoor smoking to cigars. AD, one of the girls I work with, suggested I bring the patch with me. to ward off temptation.  But I think the smoky inferno will be so disgusting that it will not tempt me... or at least, I hope!  I am a non-smoker. I will return from Aremnia as a non-smoker.  Though perhaps, I should bring some kind of gas mask for the 2nd hand smoke.  Or maybe I'll just grab my coat and go work on the balcony since I am sure it will be a private spot!