I had to dedicate a post to one person in particular that I have come into contact with since my stay in Armenia. The very moment I saw her, I was immediately transported to a different time; a time where the waist of a woman’s jeans reached a good three inches above her belly button, REM was played on 102.7 KIIS FM (Let me digress, excuse me current 102.7, popular music doesn’t equal mediocre rap/hip hop…I want Rick back. Rick Dees and I have a made up love/hate relationship on this blog if you haven’t noticed) and the mention of Chuckie Cheese pizza made me salivate. I am talking about 1994. I am also talking about the Sahag-Mesrob School days. From when I was in Pre-Kindergarten to the beginning of 2nd grade, I attended an Armenian elementary school. My experience there, though short-lived, has been burned into my memory with thoughts of a many a barahantez, Armenian homework, and loud, yet beloved Armenian teachers. One teacher that worked there, Deegeen Vartouhi was a very talented lady. She had the most beautiful singing voice and often used that voice to scream at spoiled little Armenian boys fighting over a ball. Her grace, her friendliness and her strong presence defined the incredible relationships she made with her students and their parents. So I walk into the room where I work at the Ministry of Culture, with Vram close by my side, and I see this woman sitting in the center of the room. She looks and sounds exactly like Deegeen Vartouhi, but with some interesting differences that make her quite a specimen to watch. I am going to go ahead and bullet point these because I would like to emphasize some of her fascinating characteristics:
· I often don’t understand what she is saying to me. She refuses to speak in English with me, which I admire.
· Whenever I look at her gives me this huge smile.
· She doesn’t have a computer in front of her, but everyone else in the office does. She only has a calendar, pens, and official looking folders placed neatly on her desk.
· She sits with her hands folded waiting for people to come to her with work/letters to which she either responds with a yell or a laugh.
· People come and visit her and talk about life in general too – I get the sense she gives great life advice.
I was totally struck by this woman and even though she has this slight edge/meanstreak to her, people in the office seem to be drawn to her with her shortcomings and all. I think Hayastansi Deegeen Vartouhi and I are going to get along splendidly.
Maybe she’ll let me make her soorj one day. I can dream, can’t I?
I must admit something. I’ve been holding out on you guys. I get so excited when I experience something in Armenia I immediately think to myself, “I must blog about this!” You can call me “blog-sessed” © in theory, but maybe not so much in practice. The term is in fact copyrighted, so when I see you nine (take that Rick) writing about how you are “blog-sessed” © on your respective blogs you will be paying yours truly a small fee. Anyways, what I have not yet divulged are the details of the most important part of my time here, which of course, is my internship. I am currently working at a thinktank in Yerevan called the Armenian Center for National and International Studies. The organization is under the direction of a man by the name of Richard Giragosian (Google him, he’s on Armeniapedia....I will be there someday in the future…someday). Funny business aside, this guy knows his stuff and his frank attitude towards issues directly relating to Armenia is refreshing. It’s hard to find someone who can concisely convey their opinion on such a wide array of complex issues, especially Armenian related issues. I won’t go into the details of the aims and goals of the center itself; the website does a divine job of doing just that: http://www.acnis.am/main/
I’ve officially been working there two weeks now and I have learned a lot about the state that Armenia is in at this moment. I’ve come to read and hear about Armenia’s potential relationship with the EU, the question of its improved relation with Turkey, the Diaspora and its relation to Armenia and most recently what lessons Armenia can learn from the Iranian election. Specifically, my work, or research project deals with looking at the differing attitudes of the Diaspora and the Armenian people in Armenia towards Turkish-Armenian relations. Taking into account different attitudes of the different generations, I also intend to study the dynamic between older and younger generations and their response to Turkish relations. In addition to my internship with ACNIS, I am also working two days a week with the Ministry of Culture in Armenia. Today was my second day there and I have to say that the work atmospheres of the two are completely different. I find the Ministry’s approach is a little more casual in their work ethic; here is the chronological list, according to me, and my limited Armenian language skills of the day in the life of a Ministry of Culture office worker;
1. Drink soorj.
2. Do some work.
3. Have an apple.
4. Print out important looking letters.
5. Eat lunch.
6. Have Ponchigs (Armenian Doughnut)
7. Read important looking letters.
8. Talk to Deegeen Vartouhi (This is in reference to the head woman in the office here…this is not her name, I will explain…I am dedicating another post to her)
This is all in fun naturally. I’m sure if I actually understood most of what they were saying I would probably change number 3 to “discuss cultural activities in Armenia.” In all honesty, the people at the Ministry are being very kind to me, are trying to give me English work to do and are talking to me in Armenian, which I appreciate. For them, I am currently working on a description of/opinion piece regarding major cultural events during the summer in Yerevan. I think seeing and experiencing the different workspaces is beneficial to opening my mind to how people actually work here. And hey, if that includes me getting fed ponchigs on a daily basis, then I will humble myself to make this ultimate sacrifice.
As some of you, or all of you may know, I have a tendency to make facial expressions that do not convey what I am necessarily thinking or feeling. When I attempt to concentrate on something, whether it is a lecture or someone talking to me etc, I scrunch up my forehead, furrow my brow and slightly curl my lip. This expression, although altogether hilarious for my sister to watch during her graduation ceremony, has elicited some concerned responses from teachers and people I speak to in general.
Here is the scenario:
Looking intensely at the teacher speaking at the front of the class, Kathryn wears a concerned and confused look on her face while learning the difference between a metaphor and a simile. Well, here’s the thing. She gets it. A metaphor is a literary device that takes something and uses it as a symbol or representative for something else and a simile is a figure of speech that is used to compare two things in order to enhance the image of the subject. Everything seems to be pretty normal, until the teacher stops, looks at Kathryn and says, “Are you okay, are you understanding this?” Kathryn snaps out of it and begins to explain her deceiving expression, “Oh yeah, yeah I get it, I just make weird faces when I am trying to listen.” The teacher, still suspicious of such a statement, continues on with the lesson.
Question: Why did I tell you a story in which I referred to myself in the third person? (Don’t worry, the third person thing won’t become a trend.) Answer: One of the things I’ve noticed while I have been here are the facial expressions of the people walking on the street. They all have the same sort of confused/concerned/serious flavor as some of mine. You can say that everyone here wears that face because they lead difficult lives, live from paycheck to paycheck and are tough as nails, but that is way too obvious and to me, not necessarily true. It is time I get over my fear of speaking in Armenian (I’m a little self-conscious) in order to understand what the natives actually think about their lives. Ultimately, it’s my job while I’m here to find out what drives and is behind that Armenian facial expression that I know is simply a mask for something deeper and more meaningful.
Successfully inserted, yet refreshingly cheesy simile? Check. Wahoo!
The above picture is my room. Mr. McSketcherson lives right by the window of this room. My laptop and I spend as much time as we can with him in order to let you know what is going on in our lives. 
This is our lovely living room. Natalie, my roommate, and I have already hosted a wine and cheese party in here for the Armenian Assembly interns and Birthright Armenia interns. The wine provided, of course, was none other than the famous Armenian Areni wine. Some of our flavor selections included cherry and the ever-so delicious pomegranate wines. Classy people call for classy times.
Some official blog business:
As you five can tell by now, I am trying to catch up on my blog postings for the week. To be honest, I think I will end up writing something twice a week. Not enough you say? Oh, I think you’ll live.
I’ll go ahead and start where I left off. The plane from Paris landed in Yerevan’s international airport, Zvartnots. Apparently, the international terminal was built in the last five years, very clean and modern and easy to navigate through. Sofia, Elizabeth and I picked up our 120 day Visas and moved through customs to meet Vram, Program Intern Coordinator of the Armenian Assembly Internship Program: Yerevan. Vram is pretty fantastic. I am not going to lie. He met the three of us at the airport with a van to take us to our apartments. Driving in Yerevan, I discovered, during that car ride reminds me of a line in the Rent song “Out Tonight” sung by the character Mimi. It states, “breaking the rules once I learn the game.” Fun real life car games like extreme lane switching and eliminate the pedestrian in the road reign supreme on the streets. After we did some extreme driving and dropped off Elizabeth at her apartment, I, along with Vram visited my apartment for the first time. I have no other way of saying this when talking about my apartment: I have some seriously sweet digs.
The next day was our day of Orientation of Yerevan. I met Sarkis and Armen, two other interns and with Elizabeth, Vram and me, the five of us hit the town. The city itself is very lively. People walk everywhere and they walk with a sense of purpose. Republic Square, otherwise known as Hanrapetutyan Hraparak is in the center of the city and contains most of the government buildings, the famed Marriott Hotel in Armenia and a wonderful large fountain that performs water dancing/light show every night (except for Mondays). We walked through open-air markets, had pizza at a great shop and ended the night with a look out on the water fountain. What surprised me on our day tour were the stores that have already settled in Yerevan like Guess, Clarks, and my personal favorite Untied Colors of Benetton. Everywhere I looked, there was construction and redevelopment, which made the former Soviet controlled country look promising, but there is clear presence of poverty-stricken people and places all around the city. Most of the buildings are Soviet-esque; crumbling and brown. Mixed in with these buildings are grand pieces of architecture like the buildings surrounding the Hraparak and opulent fountains of art like the Cascade. The day all in all was enlightening and gave me a good feel for the city. It also gave me the opportunity to start to really think about the state of things here in Yerevan.
So in celebration of my first blog post from Armenia I thought I would give you, my five blog readers (Rick Dees…anyone?) a little bit of a taste of the first impressions/experiences I have had over the past four days that I have been here.
You know what, let me start from the beginning, because if I learned anything from Julie Andrews it was that the beginning is a very good place to start. So I flew from LAX to Paris, which of course was lovely. I naturally caught up on various cinematic achievements, just to name a few; “Bride Wars” and “101 Dalmations” (The real people version...). I got to Paris with a couple of hours to spare before my flight to my final destination of Yerevan, Armenia. Walking up to my terminal, I really wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see.
97.9% of the people about to enter the plane to Yerevan was Armenian.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. "What other ethnic group other than Armenians would be going to Armenia?" you five may ask. Well, let’s just say it turned into a “it hit me like a ton of bricks” moment. The fact was, I was about to spend two months in a homogeneous society. When have I ever been to a place like that in my life? And yeah, physically I fit in, but linguistically and culturally I most certainly do not. But to be honest, this is why I am going, to gain an understanding and experience of working and living in Armenia with all those Hayastansis. In the words of David, “that’s pretty bitchen.” I am sure he’ll love that shout out. And now, I am sure he’ll love that I acknowledged that I acknowledged that shout out.
So, I sat there, in my little waiting area seat attempting to comprehend that very fact in addition to trying to understand what the people around me were saying (eh. I got bits and pieces of sentences...otherwise known as words). As I sat there with my thoughts, Sofia and Elizabeth, two other interns on my same program walked up to me and the three of us started chatting about where we were from, how much Armenian we knew etc. I began to forget about my previous realization until I was reminded of it once again while I was on the plane. The lady in front of me was painting her nails on the plane. Yep. Were not in Los Angeles anymore, kids. And I love it.
