Recently there seems to be a consistent conversation taking place amongst us. (by “us” I mean both Volunteers and folks in America) “You’ve been there a year and a half, what do you miss/grateful for?” Not an unusual question at all. Happy to reply. A few weeks ago I had nothing short of a reawakening of sorts involving, of all things: Worchester Sauce. I am by no means unhappy with the cuisine here actually, however, certain tastes upon reentering our body’s orbit, manage to bring to the frontal lobe memories, such as prime rib.

That being said, during the remainder of my time, it will be my mission to expose these Armenians in my town to as many different delicacy’s as possible. Starting with Tabasco Sauce. If you remember Thanksgiving last year, I was introduced to an excellent dish. This year I brought, literally, to the table New Orleans finest; and it was well received. Generally, I like this with eggs, hashbrowns or fish to spice it up. They had a completely different idea about how this was to be used.  I respectfully just watched as my precious sauce was being dumped into little clear glasses for … you guessed it, clear liquid death. To each their own.

I don’t know where you are, but here in the former Soviet Union country of Armenia, we celebrated, not with borsch, but chicken curry, sans stuffing, and all the trimmings that you might expect to find in Communist cuisines. So, to all my friends and family, I hope you had (are having, at this point the wine bottles may still be in use with some of you) a excellent Turkey feast.

Lebanon

Everything written about the capital, Beirut, like “Paris of the Middle East”, actually for the most part turned out to be true – it’s expensive, shopping, good nightlife, and good food. Outside of Beirut, heading up the mountains toward Syria, is where Lebanon gets really nice. Byblos was hotter than f%^@ the day I went, but still nice to be in the Mediterranean again. 2 things I didn’t know before coming to Lebanon: very … very good wine here. Bekaa Valley produces an excellent product; and finding cheap hostels is near impossible. (only Talal Hotel for $10/night)

Syria

Rumors about the 6 to 10 hour waits at the border for visas didn’t happen. I waited on average, going there and coming back, for about 2 hours at the Syrian land border. Devuldging this information, you’re all screwed and wait times inevitably will increase. Damascus, very authentic. The mosque, for my money, is a much better visit then the Blue Mosque.  Walking around the Old City, and the Christian section, still had an older, more genuine feel, as opposed to Istanbul. Cheap hotels all over the place, but for $18 a night, the Damascus Room was worth it. 1 thing I didn’t know before coming to Syria: excellent train from Aleppo to Damascus. With how crowded and loud the cities are, this beautiful and cheapest way to head between cities, was a nice surprise after going by bus from Amman to Aleppo the day prior. Probably wouldn’t have known this if it hadn’t been for the guy at Al Gawaher hostel in Aleppo, also $10/night. The guy running it is from Kuwait and hilarious. He kicks people out of his place just for not liking guests when arriving.

Jordan

Ahh, the Bedouin. Jordan – other than Petra – I didn’t  know a whole lot about this place, though my good friends in DC, lived here and were born here. So, of course, I crashed with their family. Amman was a complete surprise, again cause I knew hardly anything prior. Petra, the Dead Sea, Mt. Nebo, etc. all lived up and surpassed expectations. It was also good to see our Jordanian participant from IOC camp here in Armenia. 2 thing I didn’t know before coming to Jordan: the restaurants and bars are as good, if not, better than in Beirut; and the whole floating-thing in the Dead Sea is a trip.

Additional photos from the trip are on the Flickr photostream to the right.

Armenian Weddings

Little background first. Roughly 16 months ago I disembarked at Zvardnots Airport and spent the first 2 ½ months with a host family who, if you have read half an entry, you’ll know the importance of them to me. That being said, established, it goes with out saying that my first participation in an Armenian wedding, also their family’s first, was long overdue. Recently, their oldest son was married to a lovely young lady from a nearby village. They had been dating since before I arrived, if not mistaken. So why the wait? Their second son is currently serving Armenia in the military, which I have not seen until the wedding last weekend and like every other member of the family, he’s equally as cool as the rest.

Starting at the Groom's House

Literally having a weeks notice, I prepared myself by getting presents and canceling important meetings that weekend, for a much more important meeting in the village. Literally, I got the call from my host father who said that the son in the military had some time off, and it would be better before winter. So, here’s how it went; some things similar to American weddings, some things not so much.

Arriving at the Bride's House

The night prior, as you can imagine, everyone is in panic mode, running around doing what they do; arranging flowers, candy, preparing food, ironing cloths, etc., etc. Then eventually everyone taps out around 4 am. Then at around 9 or 10 am the next morning, cars are decorated, the stairwells, and the long kitchen table in preparation for the bride’s family and close relatives. So, it begins. Dancing and singing start at the top floor outside the grooms bedroom, and moves downstairs and folks load up into cars and drive honking their horns as much as possible until we arrive at the bride’s house, where more singing and dancing occurs. After arrival folks enter the bedroom of the bride and begin to lavish her with jewelry and perfume, etc.., etc.. Enter the groom. They kiss and people congratulate them, and leave a couple and celebrate around tables with good food and drink at her place.

Bride awaiting the Groom

From the bride’s house, everyone hauled back to the groom’s house. This time I’m crammed into a bus standing in the back due to the influx in guests. Again, honking their car horns the entire way back at a speed of 10 km/hour. Arriving back at the groom’s house, some ceremonial thing is done with lavash and wine or cognac (can’t remember). Then they proceed back to the groom’s bedroom where more congratulating is done. Singing and dancing continues. The whole time the best man is carrying around this thing made from a wooden skewer with three apples poked through it and, and toothpicks sticking out of the apples with candy attached to the ends of the toothpicks. Finally, someone explained that this symbolizes fertility and the candy symbolizing “Let every thing be sweet!”

Bride meets Groom, and they leave together ...

What follows after is kind of standard, so I’ll be brief.

Cars loaded up, and it’s off to the church for the whole religious part. Nice ceremony, would have had time to understand what exactly the priest was saying if my host mom wasn’t ushering me around telling to take a photo of this and that. After exiting the holy edifice, doves are released and people threw flowers up in the air. Very nice. After this, we drove around for a little bit taking photos at different locations in town and then head straight to the restaurant. I know what you’re thinking, this is where the clear liquid death starts flowing and folks flop to the floor. Not so fast. Not a soul was drunk during the time at the restaurant. Believe me, you think you’re surprised. Actually, one fellow was, but that was it. This was explained to me very clearly the day before. I didn’t believe it, but it actually turned out to be true.

Leaving the Church

At the restaurant there was a DJ and a shit ton of dancing and eating and gift giving. Like at every other wedding, everyone is exhausted at the end of the night, but someone has to cleanup and take home the unopened bottles of adult beverage and properly dispose of them the best way they see fit. Remember that little unspoken rule I mentioned about during the restaurant – everyone stays sober – well that was lifted immediately once we got back home and made up for the lost time.

Additional Photos:

The Master preparing the bbq ... 120 skewers of bbq'd pork

From the Groom's House to Church

Gotta have Wedding Cake

Stupid American with Beautiful Couple

Recently several inquisitive individuals have sought out my future plans. Both volunteers and local citizens. “How much longer will you stay in Armenia?” “What will you do after, for work?” “Will you return to Armenia, after you go back to America?” This is an everyday thing; on multiple occasions.

When in my life’s history have I ever known what the hell I’ll be doing in a years time?

Despite fielding difficult, life-changing questions, I am trying my damnedest to remain a productive member of society. Actually, it’s not that bad, especially after a year of language under the belt and looking for additional outlets for community development has actually been quite nice. Some think 2 years is too long, others too short. I actually subscribe to the “it’s just enough” time frame. As for what I do after this, I’ll probably decide the same way I got into this mess.

Camp is a completely different world. Band Camps, Basketball Camps, Boy/Girl Scout Camps, etc, etc… you get the idea. Camp season has officially commenced in the Caucasus. As it stands I am participating as a counselor in 3 different ones, one of which recently completed – International Student Forum (ISF) – the other two are environmental and computer camps in different parts of the country.

International Student Forum was probably one of, if not, the highlight of my first year … and I’ve had a pretty good first year. It gave us a snapshot of the future for Armenia, as 60 participants (10 international) ranging from 17 – 22 years of age participated in a 10-day forum centered on such themes as international development, community leadership, and various country studies, concluding with a 2-day Model United Nations (MUN) event. International participants from several other countries included: Turkmenistan, Kyrgystan, Turkey, Georgia, Poland and Jordan. It was impressive to see teams of 10 prepare position papers for their countries and listen to them negotiate terms and amendments for resolutions.

There are two sides to every camp: participants & staff. Not only were the participants themselves enjoyable to work with, but our Armenian staff was incredible. Most having studied in States for high school, or university, they were also part of the reason this camp was so successful. Now, about ISF; ISF is part of IOC (International Outreach Coalition) that was started in Ukraine by Peace Corps Volunteers and is carrying out these camps and forums both in Ukraine and Armenia with help from PCVs here. And we’d do it again without hesitation. Pictures coming soon.

Recently returned from the Balkans via train from Istanbul.

1. Belgrade, Serbia 2. Sophia, Bulgaria

This couldn’t be a more haphazard entry – a birthday, Kalashnikovs and Japanese folk dancers.

Arrachin (“First”, in Armenian). Our NGO recently visited a nearby village to take some photos for the end-of-year album. Sounds somewhat normal. Students dressed in their best outfits, teachers making sure their hair is perfect, etc, etc. But see, keep in mind, this was once part of the staunch Soviet Union, so needless to say, some leftovers of that time period still remain in village classrooms. Among such topics as biology, mathematics, geography, there is also instruction on how to properly assemble a Kalashnikov. While strictly abiding by Peace Corps policy and not handling the fire arm for even a second, several others couldn’t resist the temptation to revisit their childhood, including my NGOs director, who oddly enough, never served in the Armenian military due to illness at the time. Note to the powers that be in Washington and Yerevan, I was never in any danger; this was a cross-culture exchange.

Yekrord (“Second”, in Armenian). Continuing along those same lines of cross-culture exchange, a much more artistic event took place in the nearby town where Japanese folk dancers visited and danced alongside Armenian folk dancers. The reception was held at a restaurant adjacent the university. Both repertoires were well received by the audience. You think that was interesting, imagine being our Japanese-American Peace Corps Volunteer who actually lives in that town.

Yerord (Good job, you can count, “Third” in Armenian). It was my first host father’s birthday last weekend, and without needing to express how I feel about them (see every other entry about them, there are several), the festivities did not disappoint. In conjunction with the birthday, his niece’s graduation from school to place, on the same day. It was great to see her and her family has well. Armenian graduation from school (our equivalent of high school) also consists for speeches, dancing, singing, and of course the after party. This trip also afforded me the opportunity to meet my first host brother’s fiancé and her family. I couldn’t be more happy for someone, she’s a beautiful lady and it was great to see Gohar (first host mom) running around the kitchen with her preparing for the party. (Photos of this coming soon, can’t remember where I put them.)