Stay Classy, Armenia

 
 A Moment of Brilliance 

I wanted to write my final post on my time in Armenia a couple of weeks ago right after I got back when I had all of my final memories freshly stored in my brain. So, I awkwardly sat down at my desktop computer a few days after I got over jet lag. I began to type, when something happened. I physically didn’t want to write the final post. So, for those mathematically inclined individuals, here is an equation that illustrates what this final post means for me:

Final Post = Armenia Experience Officially Over + (In Writing)

Realizing this, I went ahead, turning my back on Hye-Octane and busied myself with getting reacquainted with the greater Los Angeles area. Over the course of those days, I doused/bathed/smothered myself in everything and anything having to do with Los Angeles or for that matter, anything having to do with being ‘Amurikan.’ From eating a fatty burrito at my favorite Mexican place to using dollars (which was one of the weirder transitions) to driving a car (with safety being my number one priority), I did absolutely everything I could do that didn’t involve me writing my final post on Armenia. A week of this reintegration into American society went by, when I had to go back to school. Two weeks of school have gone by and I’ve gotten back into the college life cycle of work, sleep, eat, socialize, work again. Not only has my experience in Armenia become more and more of a dream, but also I have refused to give it the closure it deserves. So here I go and instead of a general sum up I think I will tell a story.

It was the night of the opening ceremonies of the Homenetmen Games and the ENTIRE city population of Yerevan including a sprinkling of Diaspora Armenians converged on Republic Square. A rope sectioned off the middle of the square, which was guarded by soldiers in order for the various sport teams to parade around holding their nation’s flag. Proudly walking with their official looking shirts, the players strutted in the middle of square. Natalie, Talene, Sophia, Melania and I watched the parade and the subsequent speeches that were given by the Diaspora Minister (quite the lady…she needs her own blog), and other important individuals with ties to Homenetmen. The entire affair was very straightforward, until the performances began. All of a sudden, everyone was asked to come closer the stage, so everyone jumped and broke the rope and ran to get front standing spots closest to the stage (see picture above). It was mass pandemonium, but it was absolutely beautiful. Moms, kids, akhpers (bros), old men, everyone ran in the middle to get a glimpse of a famous act that was about to come onto the stage. I took a look around me and I re-realized that over 97.9% of the people that surrounded me were Armenian, but this time it wasn’t weird. This is what I came to understand as my world for two months. Even though I might not agree with certain societal norms and actions of people in Armenia I am still apart of this community. A community that bum-rushes a stage together stays together.

I want to thank all 21 of you for taking the time to read my blog. I hope that you have enjoyed reading my few thoughts and experiences in Armenia. Until next time…

P.S. I didn’t get ONE marriage proposal. I guess I shouldn’t have gone in being so confident that I would receive one. 

Grab Your Ed Hardy Button Up....The Spyurks Have Invaded

I have always wondered about the fascination that Diaspora Armenian men (particularly living in Los Angeles) ranging in age from about 22 to about 35 have with the fashion brand called Ed Hardy. World-renowned designer, Christian Audigier designs the brand and if you have an affinity for koi fish and diamond encrusted skull motifs then look no further than Mr. Audigier’s epileptic seizure inducing fashion line. There is my rant…..I know the seizure thing is a little harsh, but I am just baffled by what attracts the Armenian Diaspora male to this type of clothing wear. I, of course have thought long and hard about this subject prior to coming to Yerevan and I was reminded of the existence of this line last Saturday in Republic Square because of the massive convergence of Diaspora Armenians from the U.S. Argentina, Australia, France, and many other countries for the Homenetmen Games. Everywhere I looked, I saw large (attractive) males walking in groups fully equipped with their Diaspora swagga and I thought about a couple of things to myself in chronological order:

1.     You are, in fact, not a Hayastansi. The Spyruks (Diasporans) have invaded.

2.     Take off the Ed Hardy shirt (because the design with a skull sticking out its tongue at me is blinding me…..and I wouldn’t mind seeing your six pack).

3.     You’ve invaded my turf.

Yeah. I said it. I used the t word. The Ed Hardies saturated the polyester shirt/pants and dress shoe wearing male population of Yerevan. They have essentially invaded the place I have resided for over two months. I will not say I feel like Armenia or Yerevan is officially home to me or that I have this undeniable connection to this land because I do not, but it was interesting that for one second my response to the Ed Hardy decked out gentleman had intruded where I lived and that for a second, I was not one of them. 

Operation: Vartavar. Mission: Get them Tourists

 I haven’t been very good to you 19 lately. Call me the prodigal daughter. So, about a week ago there was a Christian holiday called Vartavar. This particular holiday is, how shall we say it, a nightmare for hydrophobic people (like people with rabies). The holiday is a remnant of a pagan celebration and is now considered apart of the Christian tradition. It celebrates the goddess of water, love, beauty and fertility, Astighik and Armenian people, on this day would offer her roses (the word ‘vart’ means rose in Armenian) and sprinkle water and release doves in the air. Well now, the doves are gone, the roses safely stay growing in the ground, and the sprinkling of water has turned into bands of children roaming the streets with buckets of water, ready to spring on unsuspecting people of all ages.

On the day of Vartavar, AAAInterns2009 had a scheduled trip to Water World (a water park fully equipped with slides and pools). Therefore, Natalie and I had to take the five-minute ‘children infested with buckets of water’ walk from our apartment to the middle of Republic Square to meet the rest of the group. Here is a play by play of our journey to Hraparak.

 

The girls, fully dressed in their swimsuit , shorts, sandals and backpacks were ready to take on the outdoors. Natalie expressed some concerns about the outdoor conditions.

 

Natalie: I don’t know about this, these kids are feisty. I am grabbing my water gun (Quickly whips out water gun).

 

Kathryn: Oh c’mon. I haven’t seen any kids outside our window and I have been seeing regular people on the street and they all look completely dry.

 

Natalie: I think it’s going to be bad.

 

The girls carefully walk down the stairs to their apartment. They know about the group of kids that hang out near their apartment, so they decide to take the long way to get to the street to avoid them. They enter Saryan Street. No children. Kathryn is pretty confident that there won’t be much of a problem, Natalie on the other hand is clutching onto her precious water gun. They make a left onto Mashtots. Spotted: Group of kids wielding buckets of water. They lack any interest in attacking us.

 

Natalie: I am so nervous right now.

 

Kathryn: They don’t want to get us at all. Look…

 

            Child # 1 slowly walks in front us, bucket in hand, looking towards the street. He quickly turns to the touristy looking girls and lets that water fly. It was an ambush. Child # 2, 3 and 4 dump the buckets from behind fully on our heads. Natalie retaliates with her own weapon of choice and Kathryn helplessly attempts to run away. They got away, but not without fully wet clothing walking on Amirian.

 

            Natalie: I KNEW it. I told YOU.

 

            Kathryn: You were right. That was brutal, those kids got us good. 

 

But it didn’t stop. A few blocks down Amirian another band of kids grabbed their buckets and let their water loose on the girls. The best part of this whole thing was that all the other adults on the street were completely dry. The kids knew exactly which people to mess with…and that was us.

 

 

With everything said and done; Natalie and I were owned by the children of Yerevan. 

Khachkar vs. Pinball Machine

I didn’t realize coming to Armenia would bring back floods of memories from my good ole’ Sahag-Mesrob days, but alas it surprisingly has. On the campus of my former elementary school lies (Yes, the same one is still there) a copy of an iconic, ancient Armenian art piece, the Khachkar. The word ‘Khachkar’ is translated as a “rock cross” and is literally a large (approx 5 to 6 feet) rectangular stone with a traditional cross carved into the façade. Let me tell you, there are a many a Khachkar in Armenia. One may say Khachkars are as plentiful as Jello® pudding cups in Bill Cosby’s fridge (He must have a whole fridge filled with pudding cups, he has to…it’s in his contract).

While at Armenian school, I was confused by function of the Khachkar that sat so ominously in the back of the school building. The only time that I would actually care or have the patience to look at it would be during fire drills (the concept of ‘Fire Drill’ + megaphones + Armenians = 45 minutes of standing in front of the Khachkar) so I would look at it and I never found it particularly aesthetically pleasing. I knew it had a religious significance, but I wanted something more fun to be the go to Armenian Christian art piece like a pinball machine with sparkly crosses and when you think you’ve lost the game Jesus pops up and says, “You are saved by Grace and Grace alone. You get an infinite life in Heaven. You win!” Ultimately, I wanted my art piece to be interactive and interesting. The Khachkar just didn't cut it and in my few years of Sahag Mesrob, it never moved me. It was only meant to be my eye candy (or vegetable) during the fire drills.

Well, I never really gave Khachkars much thought after that time until I got Armenia. Most of the Khachkars here are found in and around Armenian churches and they all have different designs and vary in size (3 to even about 7 feet). Some are more famous and considered more beautiful than others due to their specific workmanship. So if the population of Khachkars is the world population, the Khachkar that I saw at Goshavank, a church in the appropriately named town of Gosh, would be the Zachary Quinto of Khachkars (that’s for Madlyn). As I walked up to this Khachkar, I was immediately blown away by the incredible detail of the front and the time and energy that it must have taken to carve each of its groves. The entire façade possesses this gorgeous latticework that looked like someone had draped a dainty cross-made of lace over the rock. For me, I had a moment where I was proud to say that a Khachkar is a distinctly Armenian art piece. I couldn’t stop staring at it and I have to admit, I didn’t need a fire drill to force me to stare.

A Close-up Look...

Me hanging with my Siroon Khachkar 

 

 

 

Brandy, You're a Fine Girl

Editors Note: Last night, Natalie and I discovered that Mr. Sketchy McSketcherson was unsatisfied with his stay at our residence and decided to leave and take the precious Internet with him. We thank him for everything he has done for us and we are truly blessed to have met him. Hopefully, he comes to his senses and comes back to where he belongs. In conclusion, I will try my best to keep up with my blog posts as much as I can.

This past Tuesday, AAAInterns2009 were treated to a visit to the Ararat Brandy Factory. A couple of things I learned on the tour:

 

1. The President of Lithuania has his own barrel of brandy with a golden plaque on it engraved with his name and apparently he can do whatever he wants with it when the brandy is ready. I think right after he drinks brandy he should use the barrel as a fun-hiding place. That’s what I would do.
2. We tasted three different types of brandy: Ararat, Aghtamar and Nariyi. Nariyi is aged for 20 years and is considered the best out of the three.
3. A good Armenian would know this fact: Winston Churchill only drank Armenian Congac and smoked Cuban cigars. That man knew how to live.
4.  The tour guide told us that the brandy glass must be held in your left hand and you have to hold it close to your heart. 

I don't know about the brandy, but I definitely can say that even though I have known everyone for about a month now....I hold the people in the picture above close to my heart. 

Too easy. 

You Just Got Cultured

 

The city of Yerevan is dripping, no, teeming with cultural events. Everywhere I look, I see top-notch band performances, dance concerts, and plays. While skype-ing with my mother, she said that Armenia, under Soviet rule, was told to place a strong emphasis on having cultural events. And we see today the vestiges of the cultural event overload. I cannot possibly keep track of all the dance concerts, plays, musicals that happen within one night. I have already attended an awesome rock concert, a comedy musical and just a couple nights ago a dance concert. Each of these events had their own flavor and I would like to go through and explain to you some of the different cultural events:

 

• The first is the musical concert, which featured the popular Armenian rock band Dorian. Some other bands included rock band Empyray Hur E and Ska/reggae band Reincarnation. The music was mainly in Armenian, but Dorian had some songs that were in English. I am no rock band expert, but I think all of the music that was played at this event can be described as sick. The talent level of these guys and gals is truly incredible including shredding on the guitar, crazy awesome vocals, and complete keyboard mastery. Although some elements of the production value fell flat (e.g. the fire that would spew out every other word during a song essentially burned the side of my face and sucked out all the oxygen in the auditorium), I really enjoyed the entire affair. My personal favorite song played at the concert was Reincarnation’s Eli Lava. I think the song has taken the role of the AAAInterns2009 anthem.  So get up off of your feet and get ready to listen to a great jam.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuZqdHyb-sk 

• The lovely and hilarious play that we saw was called the ‘The Aunt from Paris.’ It was written/directed/acted by a French Armenian who was absolutely divine in the show. Although I did not understand a good 40% of it, I was able to keep up. What intrigued me in particular was the striking resemblance of this play to an Armenian play I saw in Glendale about a year ago called Batal something. Both plays involve an older male ham figure who ends up essentially having to dress in women’s clothing because of some outside circumstance. It is truly a winning comedic combination in my book. Older man + Red Women’s Dress Suit = Excellence
• A couple of evenings ago, the AAAInterns2009 (that is how I will refer to our lovely little intern crew from now on) were treated to a dance concert performed at the Opera building. The Armenian Dance Ensemble presented traditional line dances, individual dances etc. The costumes provided would make Donatella jealous that she didn’t think of it first, they all looked like works of art. Although the performance went on for a solid three hours, the talent and the athleticism of the performers was truly mesmerizing. I noticed that after the performance everyone claps in unison, not all mumble jumbled like we do at home. I like the solidarity of Armo clapping. 

What the World Needs Now are Café Glaces, Sweet Café Glaces

Here are some scenarios/lessons that I have picked up on while in Yerevan. It is time I stop being polite and start getting real. REAL WORLD: YEREVAN. MTV needs to make that series immediately. 

 

1. What to Do When You Are Lost
1. So. You are lost in Yerevan. You forgot to bring your trusty map with you and you can’t read Armenian street signs (Holla!). More likely than not, you WILL be near an outdoor café. Have a seat at this hypothetical café. Take a load off. You are lost in a foreign country, so give yourself time to think about your next move. The waiter will come to you and without hesitation turn to the waiter and say “Café Glace.” Café Glaces are a gift from God given specifically to the Armenian people. I, in all my years of living on this earth, have never tasted or experienced such deliciousness from a drink. The concept is brilliant, yet simple. Here it is: iced coffee plus two scoops of mouthwatering vanilla ice cream. Every café in Yerevan serves this ambrosial drink. So to break it down; have a seat and order a Café Glace. Since you are already lost, go ahead and lose yourself in the beauty of the iced coffee and vanilla ice cream team.
2. What to Do When You Feel Discouraged in Your Speaking Ability
1. The Armenians here can smell if you are not from here. Yeah, I know, but you totally look like the gal in the metro sitting across from you. She knows you aren’t from around here even if you don’t open your mouth. How you dress is a dead giveaway and obviously how you walk, stand and sit all contribute to the obviousness of your foreignness. This is not a bad thing. It’s apart of evolution – know and trust only your own kind. Anyway, so once you open your mouth to speak to them in Armenian it is done – they’ll definitely know you are not from here. You speak Eastern Armenian? Doesn’t matter – they know. I had an experience yesterday on the elevator with a lady. I said “ver gelasgor?” which means “are you going up?” (in Western Armenian, mind you) the lady took one look at me and said in English, “Down.” When you get here you have to accept the fact that you will be looked at as a foreigner because you are a foreigner. As I said, this isn’t a bad thing, it just makes the natives treat you differently and it gets discouraging to actually want to talk to them. Don’t get discouraged! Who cares what other people think? You only have better language skills to gain. And if you get discouraged, go have a Café Glace.
3. Lessons in Asserting Yourself
1. The nice old lady selling you delicious fruit at the outdoor market is about to rip you off. In you, she sees a Diaspora Armenian she can dig her claws into. You tell her you want peaches. She picks the peaches for you with a smile (how nice!), but that means about half of those peaches are moldy (but you don’t know that yet). Your precious peaches are going for the price of 2500 dram, which converts to about 7 dollars. You think to yourself  “Alright I guess I’ll pay that amount, she seems nice and I can barely speak Armenian as it is so I’ll take the goods and go.” This cannot, under any circumstances happen to you. You are a strong-willed and independent person with a mind of your own. Here are some tips for your own fruit/Vernisage (souvenir) market trips:

                                               i.     Look at/Pick what you are buying – It is going to be in your possession make sure it has nothing is living in it.

                                             ii.     You don’t even have to speak a lick of Armenian or if you do use the Armenian you know to your advantage – say no if you don’t like the price and move onto someone else if they don’t budge on the price. My personal favorite interaction involving Elizabeth, one of the other interns and a woman trying to rip her off included Elizabeth telling the woman “aboosh chem” basically meaning “I’m not an idiot.”

                                            iii.     Haggle, Haggle, Haggle – get a good idea of what you are looking for generally sells for so you are well informed on whether or not you are getting a good deal/price on something and then attempt to lower that price.

                                            iv.     These tips are obvious when I write them down, but not so much in practice. Vigilance is key. Good things will come when you remain in power. And you will get to use the extra money you saved on a Café Glace.