"chrisdapor-jan"
so, let's see if i can remember where i left off. i believe the only real important thing that happened since my last post is the anoush opera. well, i take that back, during the week i went to liberty park a couple times again, where all the fun rides are. on friday, birthright had a scavenger hunt, and that was cool, although my group was the dumb group- we finished last. saturday was the anoush opera. ive had quite a few firsts in armenia, and the opera was another first to add to the list. many of you know ive become an avid fan of ballet, so opera was the next logical step anyhow. i had the story explained to me (in armenian) by my host-mother before we went. the text for the opera comes from toumanyan's poem of the same name. recently, i bought a book of toumanyan's poems, so i attempted to read the poem before i went. attempted is the key word, but it was a valiant effort. the opera was good. i think i prefer ballet, but maybe if my armenian was better, i might have enjoyed it even more. the set was gorgeous, and the singing wasn't too shabby either. i have a couple short video clips from the digital still camera, so i can show those off up my (upcoming) return.
but sunday began one of my most interesting experiences in hayasdan yet: i went by myself to the small village of nergin garmiragpyur, where i stayed for two nights, and had a great full day on monday. so, to start from the beginning. i called the intercity bus place all by myself, and took a minibus to the station sunday morning. in true armenian fashion, 10 meant 10:30, and we were soon on the road. it was a great big bus, and was full. the bus went to the town of berd, in the far north-east of the country. it was a bit intimidating, and i sat in the back and read/slept for awhile (im pretty comfy with public transit by now). at a nice 40 minute long break, a few young guys called me over, and we talked. they were good guys, and thus began my two and half days speaking only armenian. now, my armenian isn't really good enough to undertake such an adventure, but i managed.
when i got to berd, i took a taxi to the village (a little expensive, but im american, so thats what i get). talked with the taxi driver about what the hell i was doing going to nergir garmiragpyur. the answer: there's this fellow tim who partially owns the french cafe. he's a good fellow. he has a group the "norwegian relief council" and they did a lot of work in the village. when i asked him what i should do that would be entirely different and not so touristy, he immediately suggested i go, and set the wheels in motion for me to be able to stay in the village. so i got to the village, found the mayor, manvel, and was soon taken to his house. he has a son narek, and a daughter whose name i am of course going to forget. narek plays futbol everyday, and his team is very good. his team won both days i was there.
well, we immediately began eating. as a side note, not once did i sit at a table for food with women. they were constanly hovering (as well as cooking), but didn't sit with "us men". cultural side note for the feminists of my friends out there about which to comment. in addition to eating wonderful fresh food (everything on the table, except for the basterma, was from his own work). the tomatoes were amazing, and the one's in yerevan aren't bad. in addition to beginning to eat, we began drinking vodka. its customary to *always* drink vodka, and toasts are in abundance. through the course of the meal, manvel and i polished off a decent sized bottle of tooti (transliterations subject to change) (this is mulberry) vodka. some of you have heard my story of the first time i encountered this 70-80% vodka. well, sunday night was quite the experience. in addition to the vodka, i had perhaps a beer. we sat out in their courtyard (so beautiful and comfortable), where a little neice, shoushanig, came by. she is the cutest little thing in the world, and was constantly dancing. i have some precious pictures and a couple short video clips. adorable, and she did the same thing the next evening. after sitting for awhile, we meandered over to another house, the man's name was hrayr, and he would be my tour guide the next day. we of course had a couple more toasts, and suffice it to say, my stomach wasn't particularly happy with me. manvel showed me how close azerbejian was (the village was terribly affected by the war, with lots of fighting, bombs, landmines, the works), pointing out an azeri village in the (not very distant) distance. bedtime was more than appreciated.
the next day (monday) started out with going to the village office. when hrayr arrived, he became my tour guide. we wandered around the village. first stop was a house where tooti oghe was being made. when asked if i wanted one glass, my stomach turned, but i nontheless accepted (mind you this is 10 am). well, there's no such thing as one glass for armenians. so i had my first real meal of the day (my stomach just couldn't handle breakfast at 8 am). today's shots were all much smaller than sundays, so i managed to stay thoroughly sober (and not sick). at the meal were this man's parents, and i have a couple really cool pictures of them. after meal/toasts (i myself made several toasts over these two days, which is hard, because while im a poet in english, im a four year old in armenian), we continued walking around the village. we went to the old, ruined church, which was pretty interesting to see in ruins. the nearest priest is in ijevan, a good hour and half away by car. even the relatively decent-sized city of berd doesn't have a priest. after this, we walked by the school, then saw an old soviet machine for hay, and i was weighed in kilograms. hrayr continued to ask me a few things over and over again, including my weight (yotasun-oot kilogram, 78). i don't know what that means in pounds, but im sure i gained 2 kilos in these two days. we ran into hryar's brother, who keeps bees. so we went to his house and had fresh honey with bread, and... some wine (we decided against the vodka). at this house, i had then decided that the name of this post would be "chridapor-jan", because that is what everyone called me, all the time. the grandmother in the house loved that i was speaking armenian, and was happy to talk to me to help me improve. when i left, she kissed my hand. as tim had mentioned, they certainly don't get a lot of visitors, and probably even fewer armenian-americans. let's say i got plenty of offers to stay in the village ("we'll get you two cows, a donkey, and 5 chickens"), and while i didn't get any marriage offers, the question "aren't armenian girls pretty, won't you marry one" came up more than once.
all this time, its interesting to note that people were very interested in what i did, and what america was like (more on this later). relatively few conversations dealt with the war, etc. i felt that people were very interested in showing how well things were going. resilence seemed to be the theme. for instance, their school's last graduating class was about 25 kids, and of those, 10 or so headed off to university. not a bad percentage!
after this, we went with hrayr's friend out to his vineyard. it was great. i know there's some vineyard blood in me, and i followed the discussion on the diseases and health of the grapes as well as i could. suffice it to say, i loved it, and it was gorgeous walking around in the vineyards with the hills in the background.
after a quick return to the village center, we went to manvel's house, hrayr still with us, and navasart, the village "second-in-command". another great meal, more toasts, and a little bit of tavloo (nardi, backgammon). shusanig and her sister came over again, and provided plenty of entertainment. seriously, this girl was cute, and had the cutest laugh. (people that know me well know that young girls tend to try to flirt with me, my mother always teases me about it).
after awhile, i was motioned to head out. so we went to manvel's sisters house, where there was a full-swing bbq (you can see that 2 kilos might not be an exaggeration). this was wonderful. manvel's brother-in-law was incredibly nice. i managed to talk about american health care, american politics, life in america, etc. all in armenian. he had plenty of questions for me, and was just very hospitable. as i said in more than one toast, the thing i will miss most about armenia is that people's doors are always open (esp. out in the villages). i didn't pay for a single thing the entire time i was there, and i ate more than ive eaten in a long time. i really experienced the full affect of armenian hospitality. manvel very nicely told me that next time im in armenia, i have to come back, and stay for more than simply one full day. i agreed wholeheartedly.
this morning, i took a minibus, which was significantly faster than the big bus. yerevan is nice, but, certainly, next time im in armenia, more time will be spent in a village. and i have a good idea which village it might be. as a final side note to this long post (this time, the details were important), i swear that one of the girls on the minibus from berd to yerevan was from berkeley. well, she's a girl from armenia that was studying at berkeley. i swear i met her once. i didn't get up the courage to ask, because we only met that one time (assuming it was her). if i see her at berkeley, it will be the most amazing of my "small-world" experiences yet.
okay, see everyone soon!
but sunday began one of my most interesting experiences in hayasdan yet: i went by myself to the small village of nergin garmiragpyur, where i stayed for two nights, and had a great full day on monday. so, to start from the beginning. i called the intercity bus place all by myself, and took a minibus to the station sunday morning. in true armenian fashion, 10 meant 10:30, and we were soon on the road. it was a great big bus, and was full. the bus went to the town of berd, in the far north-east of the country. it was a bit intimidating, and i sat in the back and read/slept for awhile (im pretty comfy with public transit by now). at a nice 40 minute long break, a few young guys called me over, and we talked. they were good guys, and thus began my two and half days speaking only armenian. now, my armenian isn't really good enough to undertake such an adventure, but i managed.
when i got to berd, i took a taxi to the village (a little expensive, but im american, so thats what i get). talked with the taxi driver about what the hell i was doing going to nergir garmiragpyur. the answer: there's this fellow tim who partially owns the french cafe. he's a good fellow. he has a group the "norwegian relief council" and they did a lot of work in the village. when i asked him what i should do that would be entirely different and not so touristy, he immediately suggested i go, and set the wheels in motion for me to be able to stay in the village. so i got to the village, found the mayor, manvel, and was soon taken to his house. he has a son narek, and a daughter whose name i am of course going to forget. narek plays futbol everyday, and his team is very good. his team won both days i was there.
well, we immediately began eating. as a side note, not once did i sit at a table for food with women. they were constanly hovering (as well as cooking), but didn't sit with "us men". cultural side note for the feminists of my friends out there about which to comment. in addition to eating wonderful fresh food (everything on the table, except for the basterma, was from his own work). the tomatoes were amazing, and the one's in yerevan aren't bad. in addition to beginning to eat, we began drinking vodka. its customary to *always* drink vodka, and toasts are in abundance. through the course of the meal, manvel and i polished off a decent sized bottle of tooti (transliterations subject to change) (this is mulberry) vodka. some of you have heard my story of the first time i encountered this 70-80% vodka. well, sunday night was quite the experience. in addition to the vodka, i had perhaps a beer. we sat out in their courtyard (so beautiful and comfortable), where a little neice, shoushanig, came by. she is the cutest little thing in the world, and was constantly dancing. i have some precious pictures and a couple short video clips. adorable, and she did the same thing the next evening. after sitting for awhile, we meandered over to another house, the man's name was hrayr, and he would be my tour guide the next day. we of course had a couple more toasts, and suffice it to say, my stomach wasn't particularly happy with me. manvel showed me how close azerbejian was (the village was terribly affected by the war, with lots of fighting, bombs, landmines, the works), pointing out an azeri village in the (not very distant) distance. bedtime was more than appreciated.
the next day (monday) started out with going to the village office. when hrayr arrived, he became my tour guide. we wandered around the village. first stop was a house where tooti oghe was being made. when asked if i wanted one glass, my stomach turned, but i nontheless accepted (mind you this is 10 am). well, there's no such thing as one glass for armenians. so i had my first real meal of the day (my stomach just couldn't handle breakfast at 8 am). today's shots were all much smaller than sundays, so i managed to stay thoroughly sober (and not sick). at the meal were this man's parents, and i have a couple really cool pictures of them. after meal/toasts (i myself made several toasts over these two days, which is hard, because while im a poet in english, im a four year old in armenian), we continued walking around the village. we went to the old, ruined church, which was pretty interesting to see in ruins. the nearest priest is in ijevan, a good hour and half away by car. even the relatively decent-sized city of berd doesn't have a priest. after this, we walked by the school, then saw an old soviet machine for hay, and i was weighed in kilograms. hrayr continued to ask me a few things over and over again, including my weight (yotasun-oot kilogram, 78). i don't know what that means in pounds, but im sure i gained 2 kilos in these two days. we ran into hryar's brother, who keeps bees. so we went to his house and had fresh honey with bread, and... some wine (we decided against the vodka). at this house, i had then decided that the name of this post would be "chridapor-jan", because that is what everyone called me, all the time. the grandmother in the house loved that i was speaking armenian, and was happy to talk to me to help me improve. when i left, she kissed my hand. as tim had mentioned, they certainly don't get a lot of visitors, and probably even fewer armenian-americans. let's say i got plenty of offers to stay in the village ("we'll get you two cows, a donkey, and 5 chickens"), and while i didn't get any marriage offers, the question "aren't armenian girls pretty, won't you marry one" came up more than once.
all this time, its interesting to note that people were very interested in what i did, and what america was like (more on this later). relatively few conversations dealt with the war, etc. i felt that people were very interested in showing how well things were going. resilence seemed to be the theme. for instance, their school's last graduating class was about 25 kids, and of those, 10 or so headed off to university. not a bad percentage!
after this, we went with hrayr's friend out to his vineyard. it was great. i know there's some vineyard blood in me, and i followed the discussion on the diseases and health of the grapes as well as i could. suffice it to say, i loved it, and it was gorgeous walking around in the vineyards with the hills in the background.
after a quick return to the village center, we went to manvel's house, hrayr still with us, and navasart, the village "second-in-command". another great meal, more toasts, and a little bit of tavloo (nardi, backgammon). shusanig and her sister came over again, and provided plenty of entertainment. seriously, this girl was cute, and had the cutest laugh. (people that know me well know that young girls tend to try to flirt with me, my mother always teases me about it).
after awhile, i was motioned to head out. so we went to manvel's sisters house, where there was a full-swing bbq (you can see that 2 kilos might not be an exaggeration). this was wonderful. manvel's brother-in-law was incredibly nice. i managed to talk about american health care, american politics, life in america, etc. all in armenian. he had plenty of questions for me, and was just very hospitable. as i said in more than one toast, the thing i will miss most about armenia is that people's doors are always open (esp. out in the villages). i didn't pay for a single thing the entire time i was there, and i ate more than ive eaten in a long time. i really experienced the full affect of armenian hospitality. manvel very nicely told me that next time im in armenia, i have to come back, and stay for more than simply one full day. i agreed wholeheartedly.
this morning, i took a minibus, which was significantly faster than the big bus. yerevan is nice, but, certainly, next time im in armenia, more time will be spent in a village. and i have a good idea which village it might be. as a final side note to this long post (this time, the details were important), i swear that one of the girls on the minibus from berd to yerevan was from berkeley. well, she's a girl from armenia that was studying at berkeley. i swear i met her once. i didn't get up the courage to ask, because we only met that one time (assuming it was her). if i see her at berkeley, it will be the most amazing of my "small-world" experiences yet.
okay, see everyone soon!
posted by chrisdapor | 2:49 AM
2 Comments:
Kner es, Christapor, jan, bayts kar&um em te 90% oghi er Pargev Srbazani tan.
you should post abstracts...
for those of us who need a little encouragement to get the the end
;) Caitlin
Post a Comment
<< Home