THE WHEELS ON THE BUS......in Armenia

                                                                           

There are not many colors seen on the avtobus as I ride home today. I look around…..brown, black, gray, a couple of red coats, a deep purple one, and a pretty, soft salmon-colored jacket worn by a young Armenian woman. There is also one full-length fur coat of unknown variety, worn by a matronly woman who also wears a fluffy, fur hat which appears to be alive and hoping to get off the bus without her. Then there is my warm, navy blue, puffy, down coat with an attached hood. It stands out in the crowd for being different, just as I am different from these Armenian people. We share the service of a reliable yet sadly deteriorating vehicle in pursuit of our separate destinations, yet there is otherwise no sharing of our lives as we ride together. 

The drab colors match the view outside as winter hangs on and spring is yet to come.  More snow will come, the locals tell us newbies to the area.   We hope soon to see the end of what has been a long , harsh, unforgettable winter in Armenia. The people on the bus stare ahead as if in deep thought. We pass one of the many cemeteries in Dilijan. Maybe some are remembering loved ones now resting there.  Others may be considering what to prepare for josh (dinner) when their food supply is low. How many ways can one prepare potatoes, or turnips, or cabbage?  At least these vegetables are available though at higher prices than during their respective seasons. David and I remind ourselves of this fact and that when in Niger as Peace Corps volunteers, it was rare to have vegetables for a meal. 

 The bus is crowded, jam packed, actually. As it sways and turns with each curve in the bumpy street, a woman standing and holding onto the bar above never looks towards me or anyone else.  Her body moves with the motion and sounds of the bus.  Her purple eye shadow matches her purple coat, one of the few splashes of color in view. She is there with the rest of us bus riders but she is somewhere else.  Most people on the bus just sit and stare ahead at some unknown focal point. Their affect is flat; there are no smiles. There is very little chatter although we are told due to Dilijan’s small size, everyone knows everyone else.  Even the young people in the back sit or stand quietly, staring ahead, appearing very homogeneous in their black jackets and fitted jeans. The feel is similar to that when riding with strangers on an elevator and no one knows exactly where to look during the ride up or down.



  Nonetheless, it is a disheveled, fatigued looking collection of people on the bus today.  In spite of my navy blue coat which does not fit in with other local styles and colors, I fit in today because I am disheveled and fatigued just as the other riders are. We’ve all been involved in our individual worlds and the challenges they present and are now just trying to get home where peace awaits us, or at least that is our hope.           



Our apartment, lower level of house



Following the pushing and shoving of riders when I entered the bus in the center of town, I am glad to just have a seat for the few kilometers to my apartment.  As David and my tutor said, “people in Armenia do not like to wait”, meaning that pushing and shoving and cutting in line is excusable. To outsiders trying to adjust to local cultural practices, I do not think so. Yet, we deal with it every day even to the point of seeing a young child almost left at a bus stop as other adults pushed their way onto a crowded bus without regard for  his efforts to board the same bus.



We are glad to have the convenience of a bus stop near our apartment.  Having been accustomed to driving wherever we wished , the Peace Corps policy of no driving by volunteers has been difficult  in some ways.  On snowy, icy days, though, I am glad NOT to try to drive----just to walk and enjoy the beauty of a new snowfall. The color of white glistens and brightens the otherwise drab collections of black, gray and brown around us whether on the bus, on the street, or in our work places. Someone said that Dilijan is most beautiful after a snowfall because all of the old crumbling buildings are covered in white.   The colors on the bus match those of the life in Armenia. There is much darkness but a splash of color now and then makes it bearable. 

We look for those rays of sunshine and usually find them in the faces of the children we meet.   Without those encounters, life would definitely be drab.  

So I ride the bus and observe and look for more color.  Soon it will be spring. Surely then, the landscape and world around us will brighten. So be it………… Judy

The avtobus continues down the street after I get off.  More people are waiting to shove their way onto this vehicle which will take them to their destinations.    Not being able to drive a car in Armenia has certainly been an eye-opener and a real way to experiencee how our friends and neigbors must live all of their lives.

WINTER WONDERLAND, ARMENIA STYLE



Our street 4 days after the last snow.



         The thermometer outside our door reads 16 degrees F this morning. I am bundled up in my down coat, Smart Wool long johns and multiple layers of clothing which I’ve learned to wear on such winter days in Armenia.   The sky is classic azure blue and the snow from this week’s fairy-tale like snowfall still lies abundantly outside out apartment, on the streets and sidewalks, and on any available surface.  Before arriving in Armenia and even months before the winter began and the snows came, I dreaded the idea of the cold.  I complained about it before even experiencing the first drop in temperature! Now I am amazed at myself and at the pleasant feeling I get while walking to school in the snow.                           

I now actually enjoy the crisp winter weather. Hearing the crunch of my boots on the snow’s surface is reassuring. With that crunch comes traction and less of a chance to slip although it still may happen. Now as I walk along, the crunchy sound adds another dimension to the already brisk morning air on my face, and the brightness in my eyes from the snow’s reflection.  It is unbelievably quiet and peaceful this morning. The young children in my neighborhood have already reached their school a few blocks ahead. Older students who attend my college get the day off again today so are probably still buried in their heavy bedding enjoying extra sleep and warmth.  But teachers and staff must report to my college today.  If teachers do not go tol, they are not paid, and there is always planning and preparation for classes which can be done whether students are present or not.



Judy leaving for school on a snowy, January morning.



I am a Peace Corps volunteer and not paid, although many Armenians have a difficult time understanding this concept. I am going to my college today to do lesson planning with my team teacher as well as to merely “show up” and continue my pursuit of being a more familiar and legitimate part of the college’s faculty and staff.  It is difficult to describe the feeling of being an outsider yet an accepted part of the organization at the same time.  This is my challenge as a volunteer teacher of English as a foreign language (TEFL). My college strives to provide a technical education as well as to include courses such as English, Russian, economics, physics and other subjects to enhance a student’s overall education. Many students are poorly motivated to study a difficult foreign language which they must take and did not choose.  The students want to learn to cook, to sew, to repair cars, to work in the tourism industry, for instance.   Any attempt to explain why learning a second and sometimes, third language might be beneficial in the job market often falls on deaf ears.   But it is my aim to do just that and to continue to try and add something to the educational process by interacting with students as a native speaker of English. I want to help the students with communication at all levels and to make the learning of English more appealing through new ideas and teaching techniques. All of this takes planning and coordination with my team teacher who also has goals she must reach both to satisfy the Armenian Education Ministry’s expectations, those of the students and herself.

As I walk to school on this invigorating, snow- filled morning, my pleasant morning is interrupted by the sight of dogs and cats who wander the street before me, searching for food from the street-side garbage cans and a dry place to rest.   My heart goes out to them because as an American, I can’t help but view these animals as pets needing protection from the cold yet in Armenia they are not treated that way.  In a future blog I’ll discuss other aspects of animal life as we’ve seen it in our short time here.  But today, I proceed to the college where other teachers  are arriving, relieved to know that students are spared the endurance of cold conditions while also trying to learn something.  Who know what the following week will bring, however, today the camaraderie of teachers is felt, informal gatherings develop and a measure of planning for future lessons takes place.  My goal of at least being present and taking part is met for today. It is further enjoyed when one small group of teachers invites me to lunch where traditional Armenian salads are served, accompanied by small shots of homemade vodka and Armenian music. These women  lead demanding lives and occasionally need the release of laughter and friendship with fellow teachers to relieve the stress of a cold environment.        



Teachers/friends at Judy's school



  

 Ah, so is the life of an Armenian teacher in the depths of winter!

 Judy

47 in ARMENIA

         
Wedding anniversaries leading up to the 50th may seem insignificant, except to those celebrating them. I'll have to admit that I recall looking at the smiling , white-haired couples in our local newspaper who had reached this pinnacle of married life and thinking, "wow, they are OLD to be married that long". But now we are approaching our own 50th and, yes, I guess we are old in the eyes of many dewey eyed young couples.
Strangely enough, more and more couples are celebrating their 60th anniversaries together so that says something about our life expectancy and state of health, doesn't it?

Last year David and I celebrated our 46th wedding anniversary in Niger,Africa. This unlikely place served us well and we had quite a celebration with our fellow Peace Corps volunteers and staff. (See earlier blog entitled, "46 in Niger").  Now just recently we  celebrated our 47th wedding anniversary in a totally different part of the world where many weddings are arranged and divorce is frowned upon by the prevailing cultural practices. On our 46th we'd never have thought that our 47th would not also be in Niger, however, life has a way of presenting surprises along the way and our move to Armenia was certainly one of them.

Here in Armenia  couples do not usually date as we did in the U.S. and once a young man and young woman are seen in public together, they are generally considered to be engaged. This assumption , if true, is followed by a large party for the couple's family and close friends where their future together is discussed . The wedding is then planned for not too long after this event. Of course, there are exceptions to this chain of events and there is also "bridenapping" , an entirely different side of the marriage picture.

This year for our 47th wedding anniversary we ate alone at Gaucho's, an Argentine steak house which is one of our favorites in Yerevan.  We'd spent the day in meetings at the Peace Corps office and turned down an offer to eat with fellow volunteers so that we could "celebrate" on our own.   The following night we did join the group for pizza at a local restaurant and were asked questions about our marriage, secrets to success, and what it was like last year as we celebrated in Niger, Africa.   For the 47th, this quiet recognition of our many years of married life was perfect---no need for a huge party for EVERY anniversary. The best part was that we were together in a place where we felt committed to staying, despite its challenges and disappointments. For here in Armenia, one must seek the positive in life and our marriage is truly one of them.  Our service with the Peace Corps certainly offers new experiences and chances to learn about a different part of the world as we get older.  We hope our work improves the lives of a least a few people we encounter during this 2 years.

In anticipation of next year's 48th wedding anniversary, neither David nor I will even guess where we'll be. We'll just enjoy the present and deal with the future as it comes.  And, as we near the golden 50th, we'll appreciate the time here in Armenia and wherever in the world we might be, striving for continued good health and the blessings of supportive family and friends around the world.  46 in Niger; 47 in Armenia; 48 somewhere in the world.  Please check in now and then and see where we are.  Judy

New Year's Eve: 2011 Where Were YOU?

   

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We’ll take a cup o’kindness yet,

For auld lang syne.

New Year’s Eve: 2011: …..it starts with the boots. Armenian women wear stylish boots of all varieties. They may have 2”-6” heels or flatter soles. Usually black in color, boots may be calf hi, knee hi, ankle hi, boots with fringe, boots with fur, boots with glitzy embellishments.  I am not a boot person except for snow or hiking boots.  BUT, I have bought a pair of calf-hi boots with a simple silver buckle on each side and wedge soles. These are my token Armenian boots, and they do have soft fur lining which keeps my feet warm both outdoors and in my school. I wear these boots for “dress”, preferring my American bought outdoor boots when it snows and conditions are frigid. Up until this New Year’s Eve or Nor Tari, I’ve worn my boots with pants leg overlapping the top, not a very stylish picture in Armenia. But tonight for the first time, I tuck my pants legs into the boots and look like a true Armenian woman. Dave and I are in the capital city of Yerevan, having just returned from our vacation out of the country. We are in the city to celebrate New Year’s Eve hoping for a quiet dinner and a good bottle of wine, in contrast to other Peace Corps volunteers who are here anticipating a more lively party time.

Much to our surprise and with a measure of dismay, we find the city’s restaurants to be mostly CLOSED. We later realize the New Year’s Eve in Armenia is primarily for family celebrations at home, similar to our own Christmas Eve. Strangely though, major streets leading to the city’s Republic Square are blocked off by police and music is heard in the distance. As we walk around still seeking a restaurant which might be open, we see 5 Coca Cola trucks being driven by brilliant red and white clad Santa Clauses heading towards the Square. We follow them and see an enormous shimmering blue Christmas tree, fully lit with glistening white lights. People are milling around in anticipation of the count-down to midnight, but we proceed into a hotel near the Square and settle in for a New Year’s Eve toast.

Dave and I can’t help but compare this quiet New Year’s Eve in a foreign land with all the many celebratory end- of- the- year events of our past. Here in 2011 we sit in a smoky Americanized hotel bar amongst strangers from Iran. A man passes us wearing a black Jack Wills t-shirt. A muted CNN newscast plays on the television while guests at several   tables laugh and talk as old friends do. It is with a sense of poignancy that we realize we know no one and no one knows who we are on New Year’s Eve.

Together we reflect upon New Years’ Eves of the past.  Isn’t that what “auld lang syne” inspires? Those words are translated to mean “times gone by”. Last year we were in Niger, Africa, sharing a volunteer prepared dinner complete with champagne and toasts given by our Peace Corps country director. There was a sense of camaraderie, excitement and anticipation of the year ahead in Africa, as fireworks and sparklers were lit. None of us could know what was ahead nor do we ever know on New Year’s Eve what the following year will hold for us.

We remembered New Year’s Eve in Wilmington, NC, where with friends, we wore hats depicting our image of ourselves. The winner was Celia, who wore a hat covered with restaurant menus, since she and her husband rarely cooked at home, preferring to eat out for most meals.

Then there were the New Years’ Eves spent caring for our grandson in California so that his parents might enjoy a night out together.  During those years we ate many pizzas and saw movies with Jared such as “Peter Pan”, “Shrek”, and “Polar Express”.  They seem light years away now as Jared is eleven and enjoys New Year’s Eve with his father.

When our children were young, one New Year’s Eve found us returning home to our children and their new babysitter.  He was sitting in the same chair he occupied when we left for our quick dinner out with Dave’s visiting sister and her husband.  It seems that our dog, Barker, had lived up to his name and had barked at the poor sitter the entire evening, frightening him so much that the boy did not even remove his coat.  Fortunately, the children were fine, Barker was glad to see us, and the sitter was even happier that his New Year’s Eve job was over!

BARKER  always lived up to his name!

Best memories come from those December 31 evenings spent with old friends in Memphis and Germantown.  We once ate a beautiful baked Alaska which was mistakenly called “parsley” by a few revelers in the group. The evening also included a brief scary moment when our fireworks set a neighboring roof afire, only to be quickly extinguished. Another dinner in the home of a friend in Germantown featured our hostess posing as if in a Southern Living magazine photo, smiling as she served the now forgotten gourmet creation.  In that picture, we New Year’s Eve celebrants were wearing shiny, pointed party hats and smiles of warm anticipation of the delicious meal. Martha Stewart would be jealous!  Finally there were the New Years’ Eves with a varying group of friends, when we attended the Memphis Symphony Orchestra’s New Year’s Eve concert, followed by dinner in downtown Memphis.  One year we even stayed overnight at the famous Peabody Hotel where we shared that luxurious setting with hoards of teenage party-goers plagued by too much under-age drinking and subsequent rowdy behavior. At least they were not out driving, and we were sure that’s what their parents thought as well.

                                                                                 

New Year’s Eve 2011 in Armenia was quiet for us. We’ve had other quiet New Years’ Eves, one which was spent in a Memphis movie theater where Dave and I viewed 3 consecutive movies and stuffed ourselves with popcorn and all the junk food we could consume. Where will we be next New Year’s Eve?   Where will any of us be? Only time will answer that question, but we hope and plan to be together, celebrating another year’s end and looking ahead to 2013 with the conclusion of our Peace Corps service in Armenia.  What lies ahead depends greatly upon us and how we perceive and continue to develop our role in this country with our new friends and co-workers.

We now pass the Republic Square with its 5 Santas, glistening blue Christmas tree, and sounds of live Armenian popular music. A festive mood prevails as people of all ages await midnight. At the same time but in their homes, many Armenian families are eating, drinking and dancing the year away.  This party atmosphere and visiting each other will continue up to the Armenian Christmas on January 6 and sometimes until January 13, the so-called “Old New Year”.

Dave and I continue back to our small B&B and as I pull off my boots, the sights and sounds of fireworks penetrate our frosty windows. It is midnight in Armenia. Happy New Year!   Shnorhavor Nor Tari! We bid farewell to 2011 and think of auld lang syne, “times gone by”. Life goes on. Where will you be on New Year’s Eve 2012?       Judy and Dave  

  

 

HIGH AND LOW EXPECTATIONS or......a ROLLER COASTER RIDE in ARMENIA

I never liked roller coaster rides –the ups and downs made me dizzy and sick. As an adult that childish activity was even less appealing to me when the side effects of having “fun” were more pronounced.  So, I was the child and the parent who held the coats and cotton candy and watched as others relished the thrills of heights and ups and downs. David can attest to spending many hours of previous vacations riding roller coasters with our children and later, our grandson.  Thanks, David!

Now, I feel as if those roller coaster rides are back. Let me explain……………..

Swear-in Ceremony, August 16, 2011 with host family and friends and fellow Peace Corps volunteers from Kotayk, Armenia
a HIGH day for sure!

                                                                              

As a Peace Corps volunteer we’ve been told there are natural ups and downs within the 27 months of training and service. There is a high when finally reaching our country of service. There is a high and feeling of excitement with travel, meeting other new Peace Corps trainees and beginning pre-service training with them.  There is an extreme high as one anticipates meeting their new host family yet an extreme low may follow if this match is not a good one. The “honeymoon period” follows, then intense language training becomes all- encompassing for the new Peace Corps volunteer.  What follows may be climate adjustments, personal relationship difficulties, a compromise in living conditions, health issues and continued struggles with a new and sometimes difficult foreign language.  Those potential lows are off- set by highs of meeting gracious, welcoming host country nationals, traveling to see sites in the country, making new friends within the volunteer group and Peace Corps staff, and generally settling into Peace Corps life as one has dreamed about for varying lengths of time.  Once training is over, the high of swearing in and becoming an official Peace Corps volunteer is followed by periods of lows and highs related to each individual volunteer’s personality and situation. And, predictably this roller coaster ride will continue throughout service no matter what country Peace Corps service is found.



Thanksgiving Dinner, 2011, with Armenian  friends:  a HIGH on the roller coaster ride in Armenia



                                              I am now immersed in a new town with David. We’ve made Armenian friends who shared Thanksgiving dinner with us. Every day we  go to places where meaningful work may potentially be done although this is not certain.  We are fortunate to have a nice, warm apartment to return to each evening.  We also have each other to lean on when the going gets rough.  These are some of the highs for our first 3 months in Armenia.

But, I personally am back on a roller coaster with classic ups and downs.  One day I’m ready to quit because it was a low, “bad day”. Then, a random child smiles and says “hello” to me on the sidewalk or a neighbor calls from her balcony hidden by grape vines and says, “barev dzez, vons es?” and I can actually respond to her in Hayeren!  Then a kind lady at the avtobus stop initiates a conversation and seems to enjoy a brief chat with me, the Amerikatsi.”How old are you?” she asks, in the typical manner of a curious Armenian. “Vetsun oot”, I reply. She just smiles and looks at me and asks “Are you from California?” Armenians always ask that question when talking with an American. I smile back and say, “no, North Carolinaitis (from NC)”. She looks puzzled. She has no idea where North Carolina is and the avtobus is pulling up to the curb.  End of conversation. So goes a small high on the roller coaster ride of this volunteer.                                               

Lows occur when I’m at my school still trying to figure out my niche. Students now speak and say “hello” more spontaneously.  They sometimes stop by our English room to say hello. I want to chat with the students and the teachers at my school, yet neither they nor I are fluent in each other’s language. Fortunately, smiles, laughter and body language are universal communication tools. The lows occur in my life when out of frustration I feel totally at a loss for words or those universal tools fail.  My mute button is then pushed!  If you know me at all, you will understand that I do NOT like being mute!



Students in my school, wearing coats in class, trying to watch video on Netbook during English Club

There is only one small gas heater per classroom and it is colder in the building than outside during the winter months.
I feel LOW when it is so cold.......



Judy showing students about the holiday, Halloween, which is not recognized in Armenia.
Various American holidays are studied during English class and English Club.
These are HIGH's in teaching my Armenian students.

                                               Highs raise my spirits when my counterpart teacher likes an idea and it is successfully used with our students. The low dip of the roller coaster is felt when she and I sit in our winter coats in a cold, stark, unheated classroom with a small group of students who struggle to read a text in English. We are both correcting word pronunciations as they stumble over difficult words. I am not needed on this day, and it hurts. I want off the roller coaster—but—I missed several days of school due to in-service training with Peace Corps. When I returned the students seemed genuinely glad to see me. Their greetings kept me warm, and high, that first day back. Lows occur again when it is cold and gray outside with snow predicted as temperatures drop. Highs return when a brisk walk takes David and me through a wonderland of evergreen trees, each dusted with new, soft snow as lovely as any Christmas card.                                                                                

Emotions level out periodically just as on the amusement park roller coaster. One’s sense of anticipation builds especially if eyes are covered to prevent seeing what is next on the roller coaster track.  A steep drop into the depths of the ride happens when a question is asked and an understandable answer does not follow, or I see a student with potential for learning who is ignored or dismissed as if he weren’t present in the classroom. This unfortunately occurs on a regular basis in Armenian classrooms. The roller coaster rises from that low and gradually carries me onto the plateau when at the end of the day, a teacher asks me to walk home with her.  We are not able to verbally communicate very well, although we try, but arm-in-arm in the true Armenian way, we start up the steep hill together headed toward our homes. She is riding the high rail of the roller coaster with me and doesn’t even know it.

Gas heater with pipe venting to outside---main source of heat in our apartment and we are lucky to have it!!!

When I enter our apartment, it is cold inside. (We turn off our heat before leaving for work each morning for safety.) Still riding the high of a friendly walk home, I brace myself for turning on the gas heater which provides the majority of heat for our apt. I have not done this before because I am afraid of the gas and what it might do if too high, or leaks or doesn’t ignite. I’m also afraid of extinguishing the pilot light which would be a low in David’s day when he arrives home and has to struggle to re-light it.  But, I swiftly turn the designated knob to the far left as David has shown me previously.  A swish of gas is heard, and soon flames appear, yellow and blue, dancing in the window of the heater.  I adjust the flames and relax as heat begins to flow into the cold room. I am riding a new high brought on by the success of accomplishing merely this simple task.  The smallest of triumphs, sometimes that’s all it takes!                                                                            

Site seeing tour with Dave and Judy.Statues portray actors in movie about Dilijan, "Mimino".This was a day filled with HIGH's. They balance the LOW's.

Just as the Peace Corps warned us, highs and lows do occur for all volunteers at somewhat predictable times.  This service in Armenia can be tough and only with the support and companionship of David could I complete it. I will close my eyes as if on a real amusement park roller coaster ride. I will try to anticipate only highs while knowing in reality that dips and low spots will follow.   Please stay tuned to see what is ahead on our roller coaster ride of a life-time.                                                Judy

                                                                                              

SHNORHAVORANK' Neres! or CONGRATULATIONS! to Teachers: All Over the World

Teachers hard at work in faculty seminar on conflict management and communication

                                                                              


“Congratulations on Teacher’s Day”. These are the words which greeted me on October 5 as I entered Dilijan State College where I am a TEFL (teacher of English as a foreign language). Throughout the day, teachers greeted each other in the same way, smiling and sometimes offering a kiss on the cheek. Students brought roses to their teachers and the mood was definitely high on Teacher’s Day in Armenia.

                                                                      OCTOBER 5, 2011

  Although Teacher’s Day is officially designated as October 5^th, I discovered that it is a day which over flows into another—and another—and another—similar to some people’s birthday which is celebrated before the date, on the date and afterward---to keep the feeling of celebration as long as possible.

   The day after Teacher’s Day, excitement filled the air because that evening there was to be a special dinner at one of Dilijan ‘s most interesting restaurants, Getap—named after the word for” bank of the river”.  I received a special invitation from both my counterpart and the college Director. I had not originally planned to attend, not yet feeling as if I deserved any special recognition as a teacher. I also knew the dinner was paid for by a fund composed of money taken from each teacher’s salary, and I had not contributed to that fund since I receive no salary as a Peace Corps volunteer.  However, with 2 invitations extended to me by important people at the college, I decided to attend.  I’m so glad that I did!         

Getap Restaurant, Dilijan , Armenia

                                                                   

      What an evening it turned out to be! A large number of the teachers and staff along with a few spouses, joined in the fun and enjoyed food and drink all served lavishly in the restaurant’s banquet dining room. The college director and several faculty members raised their glasses offering toasts to the faculty, students, previous director and teachers, women, to various individuals in attendance, to the people of Armenia, and especially to the spirit of working as a team for the sake of the students at the college. Laughter and conversation and, yes---music and dancing filled the evening. I hesitated to dance, but one of the senior faculty members, the librarian and Hayeren teacher, signaled that I should join in the fun.  I did. It was great!   And, it was interesting to see the surprise on the faces of my new colleagues when I stepped onto the dance floor. They know my command of their language is limited, but did not know how I love music and dancing.  Music is a powerful common denominator no matter what country one is in or what language is spoken.

Armenian Khorovats (barbecue) -- a most popular entree for parties and any large dinners

                                                                     

Following another course of khorovats, toasts, and strong Armenian coffee, my college director and her husband led the way onto the dance floor for the final period of dancing.  As I joined in and looked around the floor at people I barely knew, they were all smiling, swaying with the great Armenian music and executing the graceful hand movements naturally and perfectly. In this momentary surreal experience,    I could not help but think of my favorite movie, “Dirty Dancing” with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey. No, there was no “dirty dancing” at this Armenian teacher’s event, but there was a similar mood of warmth and happiness which one felt in the final scenes of that movie.  At the end of “Dirty Dancing”, the guests at a summer resort are all dancing happily together.  Patrick  Swayze won his girl’s hand and Jennifer Grey  stood behind her man in the face of her irate father.  Smiles are on the faces of everyone, even those who were in deep conflict throughout the dramatic movie.  As the movie ends, all is well and good.  Similarly, as the dinner ended at Getap, all was well and good for the teachers at my college, and I was so pleased to have been a part of that evening.

Amazingly, the next day the celebration of Teacher’s Day continued at Dilijan State College with the reading of a congratulatory message from our town’s mayor and the sharing of candy and champagne sent from his office. Even though in the U.S., Teacher Appreciation Day is celebrated with small events honoring teachers, maybe the U. S. could learn about larger ways for educators to recognize themselves as part of the cultural exchange the Peace Corps fosters through its Goal #3.

Judy

MAKE NEW FRIENDS (ARMENIA) BUT KEEP THE OLD (NIGER).....

     The Smith's continue to serve as relatively new Peace Corps volunteers in Armenia, going about our daily work as an English teacher (Judy) and a business man (David).  Armenia will be our home for the next 2 years, but we can't help thinking of our first assignment with  Peace Corps Niger.                                    

      Our Peace Corps Niger volunteer group recently celebrated its 1^st anniversary of staging in Philadelphia followed by pre-service training and swearing in as official volunteers in that country. Soon after moving to our permanent villages in Niger, we were evacuated and many of us have been re-assigned to Peace Corps volunteer sites all over the world.  On the occasion of that anniversary, David wrote the following e-mail to our group of 40 who continue to stay in touch via e-mail, Skype, cell phones and occasional snail-mail.   We intend to have a reunion in the future once everyone has completed their service, wherever that might be and whether in or out of the Peace Corps.

David’s First Anniversary e-mail to our fellow Niger group reads:

 In Niger, we had a mud hut with a light fixture, long lasting bulb and light switch-----but no electricity. In Armenia we have electricity but, alas, no light fixture, light bulb or switch.  Our mud hut had an opening with a tin shutter; here in Armenia I have a window with broken glass. Both countries seem to use the ground as the proper receptacle for all plastic trash. Both countries have more than their share of corruption. Armenians have more than their share of vodka, but they need it.  To say cold    doesn’t do the word or climate justice!  Armenians certainly have more food, better health care and education, but have recently been reported to be the 2^nd least happy people in the world (Huffington Press). Niger wasn’t listed in the top or bottom tier on the happiness index. The second biggest difference that I see in the 2 countries is in the opportunity to accomplish something as a Peace Corps volunteer. In Niger I might have made some difference at least to a few individual people, and I’m not sure that can happen here. However, the biggest difference is in the Peace Corps volunteers themselves. The folks here are good, well-meaning, hard-working, and well educated but they aren’t us. We are still Niger, and I thank each of you.  

David

Plastic Covered Broken Windows in Dave's office in Armenia

Executive Bathroom in David's Armenian Office Building