Shoes and Candy

Yelena stayed up late to finish embroidering handkerchiefs for me!

Those who know me best will not be surprised that I've come all the way to Armenia to buy shoes and candy.
I don't know what other people buy when they travel. As long as I have pictures, I'm pretty much content. But as I have mentioned many times in Facebook posts and emails and other blog entries, coming to Armenia is like dying and going to shoe heaven. If I could dump the rest of my stuff in some convenient river to make room in my suitcase for one more pair of Armenian shoes...!
I also made the sad mistake of trying a piece of Russian candy the other day. It has nuts and chocolate and some kind of...gooey adhesive (I won't call it caramel...really, I don't know what it is...some kind of crack-cocaine sugar compound). Well, now I'm addicted.
On the pretext of buying "candy for my students" (HA!) I got Sara to take me to the store and load me up with bags of the stuff. Hey, man, I can quit anytime I want.

Today I taught my last three classes. The students all gave me presents. I was astounded.

"To Jump" with the Third Graders

The adorable Sixth Graders

I'm on my way to have my last dinner with Sara and her wonderful family. I imagine she is cooking something really special for tonight. (Today we finished the rest of the Armenian dolma--with meat--she made earlier in the week. OMG, with some garlic yogurt, it's sooooo hamova!)
As Ara and I say (in German): Ich bin traurig. I am sad.
Tonight we will feast and party. Tomorrow at 4AM, I leave once more for Yerevan to catch an 8AM flight.
I will try to blog more after dinner if I can.

Back to Yerevan

Today Sara and I have no classes, so she scheduled her interview in Yerevan for this afternoon. The interview is for a 6-week program at University of Indiana this summer. Bloomington has a fantastic education program, and this workshop is specifically for Turkish and Armenian educators. Should be a fascinating endeavor! She is very eager and nervous, and we have been doing practice interviews all week.

It's funny how much better I know world geography than American geography. At first I told her that I would try to visit this summer, hoping Indiana wasn't too long a drive from California. Yeah, well, it's over 2000 miles, so unless I can get a VERY cheap ticket, it's probably not going to happen!

All the same, I am very confident that Sara will make it into the program. The first round was a written application, and only 40 were chosen. Now the interview will decide which 25 will be accepted. With Sara's experience and language skills and frankly lovely personality, I can't imagine anyone better suited. And if I get the chance, I will sing her praises to the interviewer.

I believe we will also try to see a few more Yerevan sites, but that's not a big priority for me. Armenia isn't Yerevan in my eyes. Armenia is the countryside, the mountains, the churches, and wonderful, warm, patriotic, family-oriented, hospitable people. Not fountains and man-made lakes and opera houses and statues. I'll take Sara's kitchen over that any day.

I hope the tailpipe/exhaust doesn't fall off the car again on this trip...! 

Fingers crossed!

*When that happened before, I remember thinking, "Well, the good news is that if the back of the car explodes, Sara and Ara have a good chance of making it out alive. Probably the only fatality will be the person in the backseat."

A Drop in the Bucket (in my attempts to process all I feel)

After the whirlwind tour on Sunday and Monday, we had two packed days of classes, and I am just now feeling like I have the space to process everything I've experienced.
I don't think I've ever traveled with spirits before, but packed into the backseat of Ara's little car with me are two very palpable presences, my good friends Fimi and Michael. I hear their voices as often and as clearly as I hear Ara and Sara. And when I was frightened descending into St. Gregory's pit at Khor Vrap, I was calmed by knowing I was following in Fimi's footsteps.
What might have otherwise seemed like an "ordinary" stone-lined pit (um...is there such a thing?) was made special because its importance had been explained to me and because I knew how deeply the experience of going there had touched my friend. (A gaggle of Italian tourists who descended after me could have used such an education. To them it was just cool and creepy; there was no reverence.)
The legend is very real and central to Armenian history and religion. St. Gregory was called The Illuminator because he brought Christianity to Armenia. Of course, he was persecuted at first and was thrown into this prison-hole at Khor Vrap. As the story goes, the pit was full of snakes and scorpions. He was kept alive by a woman who secretly took him bread every day for twelve years (some books say fourteen) when he was finally released. After that, Armenia became the first country and culture to officially adopt Christianity--twelve years before the Roman Empire.
I'll admit that I doubt the pit was full of snakes and scorpions, but it wouldn't surprise me a bit if one or two found their way in. And that's really all it would take for me to feel like it was filled with them!
I also managed one brief glimpse of "the bride who rarely raises her veil" when the clouds around Mt. Ararat parted briefly in the morning. I was told I could get a better picture from Khor Vrap than from the car, but of course, the clouds were back by the time we reached the "best" vantage point.

My other very striking memory of Khor Vrap relates to a puppy. Everyone who knows me is aware of the great commitment I've made to working for the Burbank Animal Shelter. I was told before I came to Armenia that I should expect to see a lot of stray dogs and cats. There are no animal shelters here. From my questions to Sara, there are apparently no animal rights activists here either.
Sara is wonderfully non-judgmental in her speech...but her eyes occasionally reveal that she finds me strange. This question of caring for homeless animals is particularly perplexing to her. When I look around and see how much people are struggling, I suppose it is a luxury to care for dogs and cats. After very careful consideration of this--and I really have thought so much about it since being here--I think I'd sooner live without the luxury of 24/7 running water than live without the luxury of animal shelters.
As we walked up the hill to Khor Vrap, the cutest little puppy was lying in the path while a tourist took his picture. An old woman was sitting not far from them at the bottom of the steps. In my mind, I assumed the woman was a beggar and she brought her puppy to this tourist site to inspire people to give her some spare change. I mean, seriously, this puppy was adorable.
When we were leaving, the puppy and the woman were still there. I couldn't resist the opportunity to pet him. He was so friendly and licked my hand and then tried to follow me to the parking lot. I told him no and looked to the woman for her to call him back to her. She didn't.
I asked Sara if the puppy belonged to the woman and Sara said no. We were walking and I stopped dead in my tracks and said, "Well, then who does he belong to?" Sara looked at me confused and said, "No one." It was like she had punched me in the face. I was horrified. I had just barely begun to accept the idea of many homeless adult animals, but the idea that I would leave a puppy who's probably not more than ten weeks old to fend for himself--it was too much for me. I had a moment of half-craziness as I considered going back and bundling him into the car with me and then somehow flying him to California...but of course that was madness. But I couldn't just leave him. I went to Sara at the car and said, "I need to at least give him some food." She looked at me like she really couldn't believe I was saying that. But she could also tell by my face and my voice that I was dead serious. So she went into her store of food (which in her mind is very clearly "people food") and graciously handed me a piece of lavash, which is a flat bread. I ran back to the puppy and offered him a piece of the bread. He almost bit my hand in his eagerness to eat it. I sat there and pet him and fed him the entire thing in torn off pieces, all the while knowing that Sara, Ara, his father, the vendors, the tourists, really anyone Armenian who was there, was both perplexed and aghast.
As I fed him, I steeled myself for walking away. When I returned to the car, I ignored the strange looks and just said very decidedly to Sara, "Different culture." As we drove off, she tried to comfort me somewhat by saying, "He probably belongs to the church," which was very kind of her. Nonetheless, I was sunk into thought about a culture that could be so callous. Gandhi's quote that you can judge a civilization by how they treat their animals came back to me. But then I decided that it didn't sound very Gandhi-like to judge, so I wracked my memory and decided he had actually said, "You can measure a civilization by how they treat their animals." So I didn't judge the Armenian civilization. But I took its measure.
After two weeks away, I have made a list of things I intend to do upon my return to the US. Dropping by the animal shelter is high on my list.

Teaching Challenges

I have to ask myself how long my energy and enthusiasm for teaching would last if I permanently faced these conditions at my school.
It's not just that the school building itself should be condemned, that the paint is peeling, the banisters are rickety, the bathrooms are unspeakable (no commode, just a hole in the floor), the rooms are drafty (all the kids wear their coats in class), etc. It's the lack of materials, frankly.
I haven't seen a computer, which I use to make all of my assignments, or a printer/copier, which provides the materials for my lessons. And with the children writing every lesson in their copy-books, I couldn't even collect assignments to check on their progress. There isn't enough chalk to do a lot of work on the board, and the chalkboards themselves aren't very big and don't fit much.
The students don't have access to computers or the internet. They can't do research or type assignments. They can't do projects like websites or movies or even Powerpoint presentations. I'd have to say goodbye to my class website--and to emailing with my students and their parents. And with my colleagues!

I'm not saying it's impossible to teach. I've had a lot of fun with the kids, and I know they've learned some. But how long could I keep it up? And then you add all the challenges of everyday life here. If it took me twice as long to make dinner, to wash clothes, to run errands, to clean my apartment--when would I plan lessons? When would I have the time or energy to give to my work? I have yet to encounter any task here that isn't more difficult and/or more complicated than it is in the US. I always say that teaching isn't a job; it's a lifestyle. So much of my work happens at home, so many hours are devoted outside of the time in the classroom, that I just don't see how I could do it with so many more demands on my time.

To add insult to injury, a teacher's salary in this school is about $100/month, which is barely enough to pay gas and electric and other basic bills. To have internet is $20/month. The average pair of shoes costs between $20-40. Gasoline costs about the same as it does in the US.
It's true that some things are cheaper here than in the US, but there are enough things that are relatively close to what we pay for them that the inequity in salary is outrageous.

Top Ten Memorable Moments: Sun/Mon

We just returned to Vanadzor after two days of traveling and sight-seeing. I'm too exhausted to go into everything now, but I want to make a list to remind myself what needs future bloggage.

1. Pilgrimage to Genocide Memorial in Yerevan with Sara, Ara, and hundreds of thousands of Armenians.

2. Climbing down the rickety ladder into the pit where St. Gregory the Illuminator was imprisoned.
3. Feeding the stray puppy at Khor Vrap lavash--even though people looked at me like I'm a lunatic. (Fine. Throw me back in the pit. Animal lovers from all over the world will visit the site one day.)

Ara and his father

4. Ara's father driving Ara's car--on Armenian roads in the fog--like it was a fully-insured rental car and he had no interest in getting his deposit back.

5. Lighting candles at Echmiatsin Cathedral (one for Fimi, one for Michael).

6. Fighting with eggs on Easter!

7. Feeling outraged while touring opulent Yerevan; its brand new, multi-million dollar, government-funded fountains must be why there's no water in Vanadzor!

8. Taking a new Facebook profile picture at the Temple of Garni.









9. Buying the Best. Shoes. Ever.

10. Emerging from the Geghard Monastery's chapel--partially carved out of the adjacent mountain--just as it began to rain.

Tomorrow Sara and I have three classes. I'll have to wake up early to plan. Far too tired tonight!

A Quiet Saturday

After all of the excitement of this past week, it was nice to have a slow day.
I woke up to snow (!) outside my window. As beautiful as it was, it also meant the apartment was pretty chilly (okay, freezing). I don't like to sleep with the heat on, but that makes for cold morning--and with no recourse. The gas heater needs to be lit with a match, and my track record with Armenian...um, everything...assures me that I could probably blow up the building. So I jumped back into the warm bed and fell back asleep until nine...missing the morning water window. I had just a few ounces of bottled water left, so I had to decide between coffee and brushing my teeth. I'm not going to admit which one I chose, but I will say that using two sips of cold coffee to rinse and spit is not desirable.
It finally occurred to me that I need to take this water thing seriously. So far it has seemed like a fluke each time I turned on the tap and nothing came out. I mean, I knew there was only going to be water at certain times of the day, yet I didn't fully believe it until this morning when I noticed a very clear pattern. It turns out there really are only a few times each day. Bizarre. Tonight I tried it and actually whooped with joy, then filled three plastic bottles and a pitcher. No more fooling around. Time to get serious about, of all things, water.
For lunch I had leftover pizza from last night. Sara was so excited to surprise me with real American pizza for dinner! It was so sweet of her and really made me feel at home. She made a great crust and topped it with ketchup, cured meat, cilantro, and cheese (not entirely sure what kind). I told her that Wolfgang Puck also uses cilantro on pizza and he is a very famous chef. I'll have to start calling her Sara Puck.

She and Ara were so busy getting ready for Easter that I couldn't believe they took time out of their afternoon to take me to the local Archeological Museum. We were given a tour by a very pretty woman, who showed us pots and stones and bread stones and a cool mortar and pestle...all dating back to 3000 BCE! They were just sitting on raised platforms with no barrier or protection of any kind. I asked why they weren't secured in cases and she said this was all they had--all they could manage. There were also items from the iron age and old arrowheads and carpets and bejeweled belts that rich women wore hundreds of years ago. Neat stuff.

After we left, Sara told me that she was so angry at the museum staff because they had told her that she and Ara only needed to pay 200 dram to enter but that they wanted to charge me 1000. Sara told me she was outraged and said to the woman, "Why? Isn't she a person? Really! Why?!" She sounded at that moment SO much like my friend Fimi that I wanted to hug her--but we were in the car, so I just thanked her and shrugged. People are the same all over the world. Some want to take advantage. I'm just glad I have people looking out for me.
Later in the afternoon, I had the chance to talk with Sara's private students. They came for a lesson and I got to just sit and talk with them; they rarely get the opportunity to speak English with a native speaker. These kids--Artush, Nareko, Annehid, Lucie, and Arina reminded me so much of my students at Oakwood--more so than any of the other students I've worked with. They were so funny and eager and bright! We talked about how Armenians celebrate Easter and that somehow evolved into me becoming Facebook friends with them! How great is that?! I really look forward to reading their updates and staying in touch with my new friends from around the world. I plan to see them again next week before I leave.

Later we boiled and dyed Easter eggs and ate some super yummy fish, along with this very tasty, um, something...looked like a crab cake but was made from egg and spinach maybe, not really sure. When it's topped with tan and cucumber and rolled in lavash...shat hamova! Oh, and the other delicious treat of the day was another homemade cake!! This time with pineapple. I just don't know how Sara manages all of this in a very small kitchen with a very small refrigerator and no running water for days at a time! (She and her family are staying temporarily in a house outside of the "city center" where I am, so I have a couple hours each day of water, while she can only count on it a couple times a week.

I have some pictures that I'll add later, but for now, I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an amazing day. We are traveling to Yerevan to celebrate Easter with Ara's parents and sister. This year the commemoration of the genocide and Easter fall on the same day. These are two of the most important days to Armenians. It's supposed to rain but we will march for the victims of the genocide come rain or shine. I wouldn't miss it for the world!
We will stay overnight and spend Monday sightseeing in the capital. I'm charging my camera battery overnight, so as not to miss a thing!

Another new food I get to try! Really looking forward to Easter dinner!

Health or Hygiene? An Ode to Armenian Showers

Just had a "shower"
and am glad to be clean--
but am wondering will
the pneumonia be worth it...!

Another Day, Another Dram

It's Friday morning, and we are going to do three lessons today: third grade, sixth grade, and eleventh grade. I hadn't realized this but the younger kids get English lessons three times each week. Seventh grade is when it's reduced to twice/wk. I think it really makes a difference, as the kids in those classes participate so much more eagerly. Certainly, there's something to be said about the enthusiasm of elementary school students, but it's more than that.
I didn't get to teach the third graders earlier this week because the principal had them taking a writing test that no one knew about ahead of time. It's not like the school has email or even a PA system. The teachers don't have mailboxes or much access to computers. I haven't seen a printer, and there is no xerox machine. Every classroom has a small chalkboard, maybe 30% the size of my whiteboard, and there are only little nubs of chalk.
When Sara asked me to bring school supplies, I prompted her to be more specific because I really didn't know if she meant chalk and pencils or flash drives and dry erase markers. I brought a lot of materials she is happy to have, but I wish I had known more before I came about the specific teaching environment. I would have brought chalk and pencils.
Today I will do the lesson with the third graders that I had planned for Wednesday. I hope they like it. I am using the vocabulary they were working on Tuesday. I'm going to have them pair movements with the words; there are two purposes I have in mind, reaching the kinesthetic learners and making class FUN. (That does not seem to be a priority here, and I just don't get it.)
With the sixth graders, I am going to have them act out a dialogue they learned for homework. Since it's between a mother and son, I am going to bring in a shawl and handbag and have the mother be in costume. Again, a little silliness never hurt anyone. Then we are going to continue with the pages in their workbook, and I am still brainstorming how to make it more interactive. I do my best thinking over coffee, and it's almost time for the water to turn on!! Yay! (My sleeping schedule is totally off; it's hard to tell since these blog posts are time-stamped on LA time, which is 12 hours behind.)
The eleventh graders are going to build on the lesson we began Wednesday. I gave them each one of the "WHEN/WHERE/WHO/WHAT" charts that my seventh graders filled out. (The kids chose five random times during an average day and wrote where they would be, with whom, and what they'd be doing. BTW, my kids are totally awesome and adorable, and I learned more about them from reading these charts--like who has ballet practice and who plays club soccer; I'm telling you, I don't know how these busy seventh graders manage to keep up with their schoolwork! They are amazing!! The teahers here really liked the charts as well, and were particularly horrified by two things: first, going to school as early as 8:00am and staying as late as 3:30 is positively inhumane to them and second, too many of my students are allowed to have "terrible hand-writing"--they don't realize I weeded out the worst hand-writing!)
I handed out highlighters and had the eleventh graders highlight all the words they understood. It was great that they had times as reference points, and my students embellished their charts with drawings, which was extremely helpful. Still, the students struggled to comprehend. They did, however, really like trying to figure it out. Then I had them practice using "similar" and "different" by writing sentences comparing their lives with my kids'. This was a struggle. Finally, I handed out blank charts for them to fill in--part in class and part as homework. A boy, who had been trying for the first half of class not to be engaged, broke down and went in search of someone who would loan him a pen or pencil. I gave him one of my green pens and he seemed very surprised to have the teacher solve this problem; it's true, I'm an enabler of the disorganized...!
Sara told me after class that she was very surprised that everyone was writing, and she thinks the idea that the papers will come back to LA to be read by my students was very motivating for them.
Today, I will build on the chart activity by having the kids write dialogues (based on their workbook reading called "The Changing Face of Television") using the W-words.
This teaching language thing is totally new to me. Except for grammar, I'm not used to his, but I'm catching on. And here's a shout-out to all the Oakwood language teachers whose classes I've observed and who've shared what they do in class. I'm doing my best to channel Susanna...!
Okay, fingers crossed there's water and I can take a shower!

Thursday

Sara does not have classes on Monday or Thursday (only private lessons at home) so we did not go to school today. Instead, we had time to go to one of Vanadzor's art museums. I really enjoyed it, especially the sculptures. I'm afraid I did that thing I do at Oakwood where I experience life through the lens of my camera (definitely not Buddha's idea of being present in the moment) but I will be present in the past when I look at the pictures in the future! : ) BTW, the museum has no rule against flash photography, which shocks me.
We also took some time to look at shoes!!!! Armenian women are super fashionable, and I'm drooling over some of their shoes anytime we walk down the street. I didn't find a pair today that I couldn't live without, but I plan to treat myself to one pair of shoes from here.
OMG, all of the food today was so delicious! Of course I've forgotten what it was called. I try to write things down--the only way I'll remember, but I don't really want to takes notes at the dinner table! There was a toasted flat bread with some kind of meat-paste smeared over it. We folded it like a taco, which is pretty much how it tastes--I was thinking that all I needed was some Taco Bell hot sauce from Dave Loveland's desk drawer (all the Humanities teachers rely on his stock of condiments). There was also an incredibly tasty soup--comfort food--made with tan (water and yogurt) and corn and cilantro. Shat hamova! (Very delicious!)
My German is getting better and better each day. Ara and I communicate in German since I don't know Armenian and his English is limited. I of course have forgotten much of the vocabulary since it's been 15 years, but it's coming back to me as he and I talk. Then we laugh that I came to Armenia to (re)learn to speak German!
I have to say, Armenian is very difficult for me. There are so many sounds that we just don't make in English--rolled R's, guttural H's, and more I can't find words to describe--and many things that are one syllable in English are, like, twelve syllables in Armenian! OK, that's an exaggeration, but a simple "thanks" is five syllables here. I can't even begin to tackle "thank you very much"! I rely on a big smile to express my real gratitude. And that is overflowing!

Sara and I have definitely evolved from host-guest to true friends. We discuss life and work and family very intimately and frankly, and I find that her sensibilities are very much in sympathy with my own.
And we laugh so much that we cry. Most of the laughter comes from failed attempts at communication. For instance, Sofi is addicted to one of the apps on my iPhone, and when Sara made her surrender it to me today, I did that annoying thing adults do to kids and said, "What do you say?" She looked at me blankly because she of course doesn't know English (she's 5), so I prompted her with "thank you" and she said "huntrem" (you're welcome) and walked away.

I also made a huge faux pas--luckily it was received as a hugely funny one--when I told Ara at his birthday party (while he was wearing a crown) that he was the king, but I pronounced the word for "king" with a K instead of, well, whatever letter it was supposed to be. Sara explained that I had told him he is "what people do in the toilet."
Oh goodness, and the toilet paper incident today! I had to ask Sara for toilet paper because there was none in the bathroom. She started to change the roll and was having difficulty pushing the holder through the center of the roll (there is no cardboard tube in the center). I had interrupted her in the kitchen, so I said, "I can get that; you don't have to do it for me." She looked at me skeptically, and I'll admit I got a little attitude and said, "I know how to change toilet paper--I'm not incompetent." So she shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
After five minutes of struggling and pretty much destroying half the roll, I finally had to admit defeat. The Armenian toilet paper won. Apparently, in Armenia, I AM incompetent!

It takes me an eternity to unlock the front door of the apartment. I'm sure all the neighbors think I must be trying to break in because why would someone with a key take so long and struggle so much and burst forth in such frustrated epithets?? I do find the whole experience so funny. I'm waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out with cameras and reveal that I've been punked. It's a real lesson in humility.


I'm so excited for tomorrow morning: there should be water for a few hours after seven o'clock. Yay! Shower and coffee!

In the Classroom

Tuesday I observed three classes: third grade (which is the first year of mandatory English), sixth grade, and tenth grade.
The tenth graders were reading the poem "If" by Rudyard Kipling. They were going through it quite quickly, and no one was asking questions. At first, I was really impressed with their reading level. There were some comprehension questions after the poem but not many volunteers to answer them. Those that would volunteer struggled to make simple sentences in English, and needed a lot of coaching in Armenian.
It became clear to me that the state-mandated curriculum for tenth graders assumes the kids are reading and comprehending at a wildly exaggerated rate than they actually are. Not to mention the fact that of all the things a fifteen-year-old who goes to America might want to communicate with others about, I'm guessing Kipling is not high on the list.
I agree with Sara that the books are stupid, to use her word. Her biggest problem with the books, however, is that they aren't arranged logically and do not teach grammar in a way that she, as a language teacher, thinks makes sense.

Although she got through a few pages of the book and is on-track with state expectations for curricular progress...many of the kids were lost and at least 25% were wholly checked out. (To be fair, 25% understand English pretty well, but even native speakers struggle to understand Kipling's poetry!)
The system is arranged so that kids have Armenian classes right from first grade, like we have English classes. In second grade they begin Russian and in third grade, English. To accommodate this in their schedules, students have Russian and English twice a week for forty minutes. Russian is clearly useful in this part of the world; whereas, English is not so much because they have almost no opportunity to practice. Nonetheless, I think kids should have the option of choosing either English or Russian and studying the one language four times each week.
Continuity with a foreign language is so important. I remember taking a Hindi course that met for four hours every Saturday. Having the intensive day was awesome, but my life was totally Hindi-free until the next Saturday, and most of what I gained one week was lost by the next.

The School Library

However, I understand that teachers (in a small school, in a small city, in a very poor area that has yet to recover from the 1988 earthquake) aren't really able to effect a revolution and overthrow the government's education plan. But I think there could be solutions in the classroom.


When I taught the tenth graders on Wednesday, there was a three-paragraph passage about Vincent Van Gogh and his brother Theo. The first paragraph actually said, "When we think of brotherly love, two names often come to mind: Vincent and Theo Van Gogh." How absurd!!! Um, yeah, those two names have absolutely never come to my mind, no matter what I was thinking about.
I realized that trying to get the kids to understand each word in each paragraph was a ridiculous endeavor and would take all of our time, so I pulled out a few phrases that I thought represented the theme of the essay. We read the sections that contained those phrases--probably about 1/3 of the essay. I skipped the second paragraph in its entirety. Then we used those phrases to construct our own sentences. In my mind, this was more useful than tediously trying to struggle through a confusing heap of irrelevant facts and vocabulary.
I'm not sure Sara really thinks I covered those pages (it's true that I cheated), but perhaps I can bring her around to my pedagogy when we discuss it at length this afternoon as we plan for tomorrow's lessons.
I will blog about the lessons with the sixth and eleventh graders in a separate post. Must get ready for the day--which should be quick since I missed my "water window" and can't shower.

Dari dache a so (or something like that)

 Last night was Ara's birthday (I have to interject here, BTW, that I don't actually know if Sara's husband's name is Ara or Aras. I thought Aras at first--this is also the name of an important river in Armenia--but it doesn't sound like that when people talk to him. Plus, it doesn't help that Sara calls him Aro, as a pet name I think). *I have since confirmed his name is Ara.
Many friends and family came to the house to celebrate.
Sara told me that in Armenia, it is not the custom to invite people--you just know that they will show up. I have rarely seen so many plates of food on a table. So many, in fact, that they had to stack plates on top of each other.




Since it was a special occasion, they made barbeque. They had the meat marinating in a back room for a couple days (the back room is unheated, so it is like an extra refrigerator during the winter, and it is still cold enough that they can use it). 


Sara also made a cake completely from scratch and decorated it so beautifully that I would have insisted it was from a bakery. She has so many talents!! After the meal, I found that she is an excellent dancer. They turned up the Armenian music and we all danced. Armenian dance is similar to Indian dance somewhat in the arm and hand movements. We also joined hands in a circle and danced around Sara and her husband; it was reminiscent of a Bar Mitzvah!


During the meal, I discovered that another Armenian tradition is LOTS of toasting. The patriarch of the family--Ara's father--toasted at regular intervals. Each toast was to honor one of the people at the table. By the end of the meal, which took a couple hours, he had made a speech for all of us, including me. He welcomed me into their family and wished me future happiness, which here translates to finding a husband to give me children. Sara also wished this for me in a toast my first night.
Oh my, everyone is surprised and sad for me that I do not have a husband and children! I have told Sara--and it has become a favorite story that she likes to tell--that I do not need a husband because I have my MacBook; at night, I sleep on one side of the bed and my MacBook has the other. When she told this to her aunt, the aunt asked me--and Sara translated, "But can it give you children?" I replied, "Of course: iPhone, iPad, and iPod!" Now that is added to the story when Sara tells it. BTW, she has to tell the story often because my marital status is generally the second question people ask when they meet me. The first is where I am from. The third is how much do I love Armenia and will I stay here forever. Of course I respond that I love Armenia--it's true--but I am also honest about the fact that, no, I will not stay here forever!
Today I taught three classes, but that will be another post.

I love the internet!

It's pretty funny that I needed to google this in order to have coffee this morning, but there's no Starbucks and no coffee maker....http://www.ehow.com/how_4806981_make-armenian-coffee.html

The Universal Language of "Too Slow"

Tigran is in second grade. His family refers to him as the grandfather (Papik--or something like that) because he always has such a serious expression on his face.
He is my new BFF.
I taught him the sequence: Gimme five. Up high. Down low. Too slow! Then he taught his sister, Sofi. The video is messed up for some reason...but you can get the general idea.

First Day/Night/Day/What Time Is It, Anyway????

After 11 hours on the plane from LA to London, a 10-hour layover in Heathrow, a 5-hour flight into Yerevan, a 2-hour car ride to Vanadzor, and a 12-hour time difference, I really don't know which way is up. I do know that my Armenian hosts are very wonderful. Sara and Ara have two beautiful children, Tigran (second grade) and Sofi (Kindergarten). Sara is a great cook and stuffed me with lots of home-cooking. Ara makes his own wine. He kept refilling my glass, so I kept drinking it. It tasted like...like homemade Armenian wine. Ara does not speak English, but he lived in Germany for a time, so he and I use our limited combined German to communicate. When we run into trouble, we yell for Sara to translate. The one thing I definitely understand is that he loves to joke and is usually not serious. Of course this means we get along very well. Tomorrow is his birthday, so Sara made a cake from scratch.
Taking a shower today was quite an adventure. The water is only on for certain hours of the day, and it only gets hot for little spurts and then goes cold again.
It rained on and off all day and was very overcast. At one point in the early evening, we had a hail storm: very beautiful!
Tomorrow I visit Sara's school for the first time and will interact with kids in sixth and tenth grades. Kids here have English class twice a week for forty minutes each time. They also study Armenian and Russian. Of course, all three of these languages are written in different scripts.
Sara says that it is difficult for her students to be motivated to perform well because most cannot afford to go to University. And even if they do, there are still not many jobs. Sara's husband is unemployed, as are her cousins whom I also met tonight. Sara does everything she can to make enough money to provide for her family, like teaching private lessons and applying for grants such as the one to host me, but life is a struggle.
I feel very fortunate. More later.

How This Experience Inspires a Global Perspective in my Classroom

School Environment & Education System

Student Life

Culture