Happy Easter

I made the orange one

This is the "Easter lawn" I was describing in my last entry. The eggs aren't in it yet but you get the idea. The YCAP group had an Easter presentation at school and invited me to talk about our customs in America. I started with the Biblical significance of the holiday and moved into a description of the Easter bunny and egg hunting. We have some nice deviled egg dishes in our family but I must admit that the green is a lovely display for colored eggs. All it takes is a few weeks of watering.

I wanted to include more photographs of the Easter events last week but I've been lending my camera to one of the 10th graders (they're fascinated with digital) and he deleted the pictures from Easter dinner and egg hitting. I'll try to describe the traditions in detail until I can figure out if he created a CD of the pictures that I can use.

On Saturday night at 5 p.m. the Easter celebration started in the village. They told me that Easter is celebrated from 5p.m. Saturday until 5 p.m. Sunday and when I asked about the women going to the empty tomb on Easter morning they told me that that's just when they found the tomb, Jesus had actually already risen the night before. So we had a party at home with just the family. We ate: fish, potatoes, fried greens and egg, fried lavash with rice and dried fruit, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, cheese and cabbage salad. The highlight for the kids was the hitting eggs game where you hold your hard boiled egg in your hand and tap the top of the opponents egg. Whoever holds the broken egg loses. I lost at both ends and on two sides (Sargis had a particularly sturdy egg).

On Sunday I made the trip to Khor Virap and had Easter dinner with a family in a nearby village. The bus stopped outside of the village and together we walked for about an hour to the church. It was a nice walk and it was exciting to see everyone making their way towards the church. When we arrived it was packed and women were selling packets of candles on the side of the road. Traditionally you're not allowed to burn candles that you buy outside the church in the church, but it was Easter so maybe they didn't notice. There was a tightrope walker, lots of people walking around with live chickens and a small band playing music. This is the regular spectical though, as I remember the same entertainment being there the last time we visited the church for a wedding.

We entered the church and listened to part of the service. They insisted I cover my head with a children's baseball cap and we tried to stand patiently as people came and went, talked and took photos. We lit candles and then left after communion. After church we went back to the family's house and had the same meal plus BBQ. It was nice to spend the day with the family.

April 21-22 is Earth day and National & Global Youth Service Day (http://www.ysa.org/nysd/). I'm going to try to mobilize the YCAP group to clean up the field and plant trees where we hope to build the community playground. It's hard to believe that today marks nine months at site. Time flies when you're having fun...

Beauty, Motherhood and a little faith

On Palm Sunday I stopped at this church on my way through Yerevan to buy some fresh daffodils, these crowns and some of the branches they were selling (below). The crowns symbolize the one they put on Jesus before they crucified him. Apparently we are to keep it for 12 months (one month for every one of Jesus' disciples) and then in a year we should burn it.

The daffodils didn't symbolize anything-- just reminded me of home and brightened my bedroom.

Me delivering my poem. Do I look like I know what I'm saying? All I know is that it was about love.

Although yesterday was Good Friday, I didn’t have much of an opportunity to reflect on the day. This year Holy week coincides with the final week of women’s month. Today, April 7, is the conclusion of the festivities.

A little background: After the collapse of the Soviet Union celebrations of international women’s day were abandoned in Armenia. Instead, April 7 was introduced as state holiday of ‘Beauty and Motherhood.’ The new holiday immediately got popular among Armenians, as it commemorates one of the main holidays of Armenian Church, Annunciation. Today, people continue to celebrate women’s day on March 8 as well, so public discussion held on the topic of two Women’s Days in Armenia resulted in the recognition of Women’s Month (the time between March 8 and April 7).

To celebrate in the village, our event planner organized a community pagent. I was invited to attend and sing, but I refused to subject everyone to another episode of me singing on stage. We settled on reciting a poem in Armenian. While memorization and recitation is a common practice in the school and for Armenians in general, it did not come easy to me. I’ve been practicing my poem for a month now and was still scared of messing up (which I did). Fortunately, I made up for it by dancing all night and participating in one of the games. I like Armenian dancing better than American, and all I had to do to win the game was pair up with our gym teacher and eat an apple blindfolded. Sometimes the Armenians are very easy to please.

Towards the end of the night it was time for us to go around the room and provide a toast to the women and the holiday. Each table sent a representative to the front of the room to say a few words. By the time they reached our table (number 10) all of the common toasts had already been made (for health, blue skies, green paths, long life, everything good and kind, etc…). I leaned over to my friend and told her she should offer hope as our wish for the future of the women in the room. To me, it seemed like a good connection between the popular women’s holiday and rememberance of the risen Lord.

I colored eggs with 9a on Thursday and this morning they invited me to their women’s day party at school tonight. The Armenian’s are familiar with the egg coloring process, but they color hundreds and traditionally they’re only red (to symbolize Christ’s blood). A couple of weeks ago people started ‘planting’ lentils and other beans on wet cotton on platters and now they have small green yards for presenting the eggs. Tonight at our house we are going to prepare the traditional food: rice and raisins, fish and greens and then tomorrow I will pass out a little American plastic eggs and peeps to the kids. I’ve been using my lenten discipline (no sweets…except jam) to illustrate my faith and everyone is very excited about the prospect of indulging in ice cream and chocolate all day tomorrow. I understand the commercial Easter in Armenia, I hope to attend a traditional service tomorrow and see how the occasion is celebrated in the church.

Happy Easter all. He is Risen!

Growing up

I had a heart to heart with Alla the other day about what her childhood was like in Armenia in the 1990s. Whereas I was studying in a warm, inviting elementary school, she would come to an unheated classroom for 10 minute lessons. It was just enough time for teachers to answer questions before assigning excessive homework to children. Basically homeschooling, all teachers could do was hope that students were assisted by parents in completing lessons at home. During the war, there weren't many people who didn't experience devastating loss of family members and loved ones. Whereas I would spend afternoons dancing and singing to Ace of Base in my backyard, she was not allowed to turn on the television or laugh out of respect for those grieving. I could walk into any room I wanted at any time and flip on a light to read, but Alla was encouraged to sit quietly and study by candlelight (only one per day because they never knew when they would run out of candles). Power was supplied to the village for one hour per day. My biggest fear was if I would get caught making homemade play dough in the kitchen, she grew up afraid that the Turks were going to come and take over the small village.

The most amazing thing about our lives, however, is that we turned out the same. I was showered with blessings, she had next to nothing. I was reprimanded for misbehaving, she was reprimanded for laughing and playing. We came from such different backgrounds, but we both want the same things for this village, this country and the world. I'm so thankful for Alla, her motivation, her unwavering hope and her desire to improve the life of others.

March 24

A few storks arrived early this year and have begun building their nests on top of the telephone poles in my village. Everything seems to be developing these days as the weather is warming up and people are starting to come out of winter hibernation. In my village people refer to March as ‘the stupid month’ because the weather changes day by day and there’s no way to know if tomorrow will be sunny and warm or windy and snowy. I don’t mind so much as long as the cold doesn’t stay for more than a few days (I don’t want our water supply to freeze again).

It’s back to ‘work’ as normal in the school as far as six periods and reliable scheduling is concerned. Classes are a little more focused and I’m already pestering my counterpart to consider how we’re going to get all of the lessons completed before the end of May. Since we only meet with each grade once per week I recently realized that we have less than 10 classes remaining and I started to panic.

On March 20, I went door-to-door hand delivering 33 small invitations to active community members for our focus group (take two). This process started a month ago and after a failed attempt on March 11th we finally figured out how to request attendance effectively and had more than 40 people attend our meeting on the 23rd.

It’s no wonder it took us two tries, nothing is the same as in America. I thought that working with an Armenian would help prevent cultural miscommunications, but Alla was equally as astonished when we planed the meeting, explained the funds available, gave people two weeks notice and still lacked a single attendee. After we recovered from the discouragement, I sat down with my counterpart and questioned my work in the village. “If my work in the school is less important than obtaining funding for a community project, and no one in the community shows up to support a community project, there must not be a need for a volunteer in this village,” I whined. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Everything will be fine.” I was getting pretty tired of hearing that everything would be fine so the next day Alla and I were sitting in the mayor’s office. He agreed with the school director that there was a need to obtain funding and I told him that if this was important for the village I was going to need assistance in rallying the troops. Two days latter the school director presenting me with a list of names and we created the paper invitations.

More than a month ago we distributed a survey to 120 community members. I wanted to involve our Youth Action Committee, so I called a meeting of the 8th-10th graders and 12 students showed up to learn about survey writing and distribution. With careful directions, we sent each student out with ten copies of the survey and instructions to target a specific audience. We wanted equal distribution of males and females from the age of ten to adulthood. They did a great job of returning a majority of the completed surveys and we were pleased with the fact that more than 50 villagers shared their name, contact information and willingness to assist us in our work. Unfortunately the students volunteered to distribute surveys, they didn’t agree to sit down and explain the project, the Peace Corps, me or the reasons for a meeting. I knew we would have the same problem if I let them distribute the invitations and I needed people to be aware of why they were being summoned to the school on a Wednesday afternoon (prime soap opera time).

Things I learned from the first failure:
Not everyone in the village has a phone. Some people wrote their relatives or neighbor’s phone number on the surveys we distributed. When Alla made the calls asking them to attend an organizational meeting most people had no idea why she was calling them or why they should come.
Sunday is a day of work in the village. We weren’t requesting the participation of teachers, and for the most part the only women who work out of the home are teachers. We assumed that a Sunday (for someone who is in the home every other day anyway) is a fine day for someone to spend an hour in the school. We were wrong. Even if you’re home every day, Sunday is particularly busy with hosting guests and students who are back in the village from Yerevan (where they study during the week) for the weekend.
Whereas it was too cold to work in the fields on the 10th of March, the weather on the 11th was warm and sunny and everyone decided to go into the field and check out the crops.
You do not invite anyone to do anything more than a week in advance. This was the greatest shock to me. It doesn’t matter the occasion. Even wedding invitations are only sent out with a weeks notice. The fact that we were having a meeting meant that we should demand participation (make it sound important enough for them to drop their previous plans) the day before.
If you want people to do something, get their autograph. My school director informed me that if people sign their name to something it means that they are making a commitment. She told us to prepare a list of the invitee’s names and take it with us when we distribute invitations. If they plan to come have them sign and write down their phone number. If they can’t make it don’t let them sign the paper.

So, after school, a fifth grade presentation on the Armenian army’s 15th anniversary and the 9b vs. 10a basketball tournament I set out with two students to distribute the invitations. They weren’t organized and could care less about the process so we walked from house to house, up and down the village from 3:30 p.m. to 7:45 p.m. I didn’t mind all this walking because with each invitee I was able to explain the purpose of the meeting, get their signature and introduce myself (even though everyone already seems to know who I am).

The result was excellent attendance on the 21st. Even people we didn’t invite came to offer their ideas. The meeting was a little bit like my classroom (rowdy and noisy) but I realized that these people are just passionate. After having them work in small groups to brainstorm the communities greatest priorities (a new practice they did not enjoy much at all), we called for five of the top suggestions and created a voting matrix on my chalkboard. The votes went in favor of a renovated football stadium (we have a dirt field currently, I think they were envisioning the horseshoe) and people went crazy when I admitted to them that their vote had spoken and this was what they’d chosen to work on. One of the older males called for a smoke break and we came back a little more focused on the reasonability and urgency aspects of the project. After wiping the football project from the vote completely they almost unanimously agreed to call for a playground/workout center for the village. I agree that this is project will meet a great need and will be beneficial for all age groups. In addition to playground equipment I would like to add exercise stations for older youth and adults and benches or tables for the tatiks and papiks (grandmas and grandpas) to sit and play nardi (backgammon) or chess. People of all ages already gather in the dusty streets to socialize, why not create a central, safe location for community activities?

Although this work is just beginning, Alla and I are activity pursuing our summer green camp for 11 to 13-year-olds. We’ve secured a volunteer to be our camp cook (by far the hardest and messiest job) and we are currently recruiting counselors by posting flyers by the village stores. We hope to have an organizational meeting for interested volunteers on March 31st.

Please keep Alla in your prayers. I don’t know what I would do without this engaging, active and passionate new Armenian friend.

Oscarlita

It was white wine...that little bruise is from one of her brothers or sisters...siblings can be so pushy.

Peace Corps Purpose

Please note that this entry (and all entries) is my individual viewpoint and does not express the views of the Peace Corps organization as a whole.

A very dear friend recently wrote me: "I don't know much about Peace Corps, but I feel like the desire to change the world by 'sharing superior American knowledge' may be the most common reason for people to apply. This motivation would make severe frustration inevitable. It is a pretty simplistic way to describe it, but is this accurate? I would guess the Peace Corps works to avoid the colonial dynamic of how exterior help to a community automatically implies the posture of 'inferior group depends on help from superior group'...building relationships and learning from cultures is very important. The part about change, however, seems like the goal is still colonial-style rearranging of values, but using community lubrication...I feel that social change is strongest when it comes from within the affected group, empowering instead of receiving the charity."

He was very correct when he mentioned empowerment. Fortunately, I am in just the right position to empower because I am so under qualified to make anything change by myself. Had I been placed in a role where I did have 'superior knowledge' my answer to his position would probably be different, but if you've followed any of my entries you realize that much of what is asked of me in my primary assignment is completely foreign to anything I've done in the past. I often feel less than prepared for what I wish I could accomplish. When I turn away from my own skills, however, and really pay attention to those in my community that I see ways they can accomplish things I could never do on my own.

I guess a good example of this is the recent community questionnaire we created to gauge interest/investment in a possible grant opportunity. In college we worked on evaluation and survey methods so I was prepared to write the questions, but not as equipped to figure out distribution and data collection. By seeking the help of engaged students in our Youth Action Club I was able to 'empower' 12 students to go out themselves and gather the information we will need to write a project proposal. I guess the question is: would these kids have prepared the project, written the survey and gathered the information on their own? Maybe they would have, but I'm here, and as a volunteer I'm willing to invest the time and a different perspective into the projects that we begin.

I look at my role in the classroom and I think about how I was when I was in school. Any opportunity we had to listen to a guest speaker or an assembly presentation was a treat. For me, people from different backgrounds who have taken the time to talk to me about their experiences and knowledge have always been inspiring and more entertaining than the everyday norm. Isn't this what makes talk shows entertaining? It's not necessarily the host that people tune in for (unless it's Ellen), but the guests that they interview. This is how I see the role I’m in as a teacher in a foreign country. It’s not my role to tell people to change (my Armenian counterpart does the instructing), but instead to offer experience and evidence that points to a new idea that they might not otherwise be introduced to.

Yerevan is an active city. This Friday I hope to attend a conference sponsored by the Coalition for Tobacco Free Armenia, initiated by the Armenian Public Health Alliance and supported by the Open Society Institute Assistance Foundation. The work was prepared by Armenians but there’s a gap in distribution. Many people in the villages could benefit from resources and information available to people in the city, but they aren’t aware of what’s happening. As a volunteer here I have the time and finances to make the trip to the conference and bring back information that the Armenians are preparing themselves. I’m simply a liaison.

The ‘rearranging of values’ comment directly applies to my work. Armenians do value health, almost as much as they value religion…at least that’s what they say. Go to any party, wedding or relative’s house and if there are Armenian’s toasting it is “to the most important thing: Health”. Unfortunately, the Soviet mindset of treatment over prevention remains prevalent in the lives of the adults in society. We know, however, that many of the health problems Armenians are suffering from (the same as Americans) are relatively preventable. It’s not changing the values of the public; it’s about helping the public recognize how they can live to realize their values.

Change isn’t easy anywhere and it doesn’t happen overnight. We are all very well aware of the negative effects of smoking, but when the research first came out did cigarette sales cease? We needed someone to tell us, “look, you value your health, what you’re doing is causing health problems”. The same goes for preventing diseases in America. If no one ever told me that there is information available about ways I can take care of my skin I would probably continue to sit in the sun for hours on end and not wear sunscreen (the old lifestyle is fun, the old lifestyle is easy). Someone gave me the information, a ‘charity’ I suppose, but ultimately it is my decision of whether or not I want to accept what’s given and change my lifestyle or continue living the way I did before I had the information/resources.

Lastly, my mom knows about what is good and what is bad for my health. Likewise, there’s a good chance that the Armenians are aware of the health information I am bringing from the states. But when my mom told me to wear sunscreen and not to sit out in the sun all day did I listen? No. It took a friend, an outsider, someone who was completely objective to say: “You know your nose gets really pink every time you’re out in the sun. It’s not attractive and there’s ways you can prevent that.” before I made the behavior change. Maybe I can be that outsider. With respect, care and shared values maybe I can reach the people I work with.

Gender awareness

Today is a holiday for males in Armenia. The students celebrate in school by buying gifts for all of the boys in their class. It's not like on Valentine's Day in America when you only buy for the one you like most, here everyone gets a present. This seems like a good idea, in Hermine's seventh grade class all of the girls contributed 400 dram ($1.50) and then went to the store together to pick out a present for their classmates. But then I asked Sargis what would happen in his class, where there are 21 boys and only five girls; it seems that the holiday becomes quite a burden in the 6a classroom.

Earlier this week a new litter of pigs were born in our household. Eleven total, the last one and smallest had a difficult entry into the world. On Wednesday we brought him inside the house so that he could stay warm and get strong apart from all his brothers and sisters. It seems they're all very feisty and one of them stepped on his ear. At first he couldn't even stand and they were feeding him with a bottle. He spent two nights sleeping in a cardboard box next to the wood burner. They filled up the mini wine bottle I brought back from my AirFrance flight with hot water and he would sleep on top of it for warmth. I got pretty jealous of little Oscar (they were showing a commercial for the award event when I was asked to choose a name), he looked warm in that little box. It was fun for a few days to wake up and come downstairs to the little snorting pet, but he got rambunctious and was sent back to the pen with the rest of the piglets. Yesterday someone came to buy a pig and much to our dismay we learned that Oscar is in fact a girl. We changed her name to Oscarita and the problem was solved, but now I guess she won't get to celebrate today's holiday.

A SPA

To PCVs a SPA doesn't mean relaxation but Small Project Assistance grant writing. I spent the majority of last week learning about how to effectively write project proposals with the people in my village. People used to always ask me, 'so, what exactly do you do with an organizational communications major?' I guess this is it. Although the process of identifying a need/priority in the community, planning, proposal writing, implementing, record keeping, monitoring and evaluation is all very familiar, it was exciting to see my counterpart light up at the work that goes into project development. She's young and enthusiastic and I am excited about the work that we have ahead of us.

We've drafted a community questionaire and recruited students from the youth action club to distribute them door-to-door. I would do it myself, but I can't go anywhere in the village without being invited in for an hour conversation and a cup of coffee.

Before I was most intimidated by the fact that a lot of what I wanted to do was not community initiated and I didn't feel that I could effectively build capacity alone. It's exciting to see, however, that once one person buys into your plans or ideas how others begin to follow. Now that I've got an engaged counterpart (an 'in') I'm hopeful about the potential for our work.

It's winter here.

I would like to sincerely apologize if we didn’t get to spend time together while I was home. The purpose of my trip was to spend time with my family and it didn’t leave a lot of time for visiting. America is a great place though, and I hope you are all enjoying the new year. Although I was in Ohio for less than two weeks, I was able to enjoy a burrito, a Graeter’s raspberry chocolate chip cone, Chinese food, sushi, Aunt Dee’s cherry cheesecake, dry cleaning (but better yet a washing machine inside the house), hot showers, running water, central heating, possession of a car, a credit card and access to Target (via the car). I’m embarrassed that the list begins with all of the food I got to indulge in, but what can I say? Columbus has some really great restaurants. Don’t take these things or the people who you enjoy them with for granted. I can honestly say this appreciation for America and the people in it is strongest as I write this blog entry from a computer on the other side of the world.

I got a hearty welcome from Mother Nature when I got back last Monday. It snowed about six inches and interestingly enough the snow plows didn’t show up in the village. For some reason, I came back and forgot where I was and proceeded to brush my teeth in the sink only to realize (after none of my spit was draining) that the pipes were frozen all the way through. I stood staring at my orange toothpaste just floating in the frozen water for at least ten minutes trying to decide if maybe some pouring some boiling water in the basin would thaw it out. I was informed that the only way to solve my problem was to take a cup and throw the water down the drain in the floor (thank goodness the ground doesn’t freeze). The kids wanted to know what was wrong with my mouth (they’d never seen someone foam orange) and I explained that it was my new “Amerikakan” Aquafresh toothpaste. They weren’t impressed. I have since learned to brush my teeth and wash my face in a squatting position above the drain.

At home people wanted to know what the weather is like here. It’s cold. It’s so cold that the toilet bowl water freezes. It’s so cold that my 10-year-old nephew and I write love notes to each other in the ice growing on the bathroom wall. The school is so cold that the day starts at 11 a.m. and ends at 3:15 p.m. because we can’t heat the classrooms. The students go to each class for 20 minutes. I guess you don’t actually have to show up right now because our ninth grade class last week had 10 students (and this isn’t Capital there are supposed to be at least 26 in the class) and my eighth grade class had seven. We sat around and talked about stress (the topic of the lesson) but the short conversation turned to HIV/AIDS after only five minutes and we never got back on track. I asked my counterpart what would happen to the classes/lessons if students didn’t show up and she said that she would review when we began a regular routine again. Although I don’t know when that will be I can’t understand the purpose of these classes…except to remind us how miserable being indoors can be. That’s what was most shocking to me in America. I could hop out of my warm bed, shower in a warm bathroom, get dressed in a warm bedroom, leave the house through a garage (which, incidentally is probably is the same temperature as my bedroom here) and sit in a warm car, drive to a warm destination and the whole time never even know that it’s winter at all.

February 1st was Manuk’s 40th day of being alive (he was the boy born right before Christmas). After school I got home and my host sister had prepared lentil and pasta soup, bread and cheese for lunch. I ate in a hurry because she said that we had to go to Manuk’s party. I’m not sure of the significance of 40 days, but the minute she said party it occurred to me that I was going to be fed again as soon as we arrived. Party and BBQ are synonyms in Armenia. I asked if I shouldn’t eat a big lunch and they all said that I should, knowing full well I was going to go to my host sister’s house in less than 20 minutes. True to Armenian form, the minute we walked in the door I was pinched on my cheek, told I had gotten skinny in America and shoved to the table. Before I even sat my host sister and mother began piling my plate with spoonfuls of rice and a chicken leg. They poured me some liquor and a cup of juice and began to toast to my health, the baby’s health, our family’s health and the health of the whole world. I found the chicken leg to be chewy and covered in skin, but before I could complain I looked across the table and saw my host nephew gnawing on a chicken throat. I thought that was strange until I looked next to him at my other nephew trying to eat the skin between two chicken toes. I didn’t know there was meat on chicken feet! As it turns out there is, and my other host sister proved that when you devour it entirely all you’re left with are a few three inch long nails. I guess I was able to hide my surprise as I remembered my first host mother trying to force me to eat a cold pig’s ear last summer.

People have asked what I eat on a regular basis-meat isn’t it. Normally I have rice or barley or macaroni as a main dish, it is accompanied by cheese, bread, cabbage/carrot salad and juice. The food improves ten fold in the summer when there is a regular supply of fresh fruits and vegetables. Fortunately we often have apples for dessert. I keep a small stock of peanut butter and chocolate in my room but generally I stay pretty full and only use it for days when I’m traveling.

Fortunately, I’m able to ease back into my Armenian lifestyle. All of the A13s are meeting for a project design management workshop this week with our counterparts. I am bringing the chemistry teacher from school and we hope to learn how we can develop a plan for building a pool in the village...I’ll keep you updated.

If you look carefully, you'll see Mt. Ararat through the clouds in the background. It has two peaks. I also enjoy this photo for the outhouse conveniently situated in the backyard.

Two seconds earlier I was smiling and waving for the camera. My photographer was a bit delayed.

This mountain makes for a great hike in the summer--when the snow isn't up to your knees.

Shnorhavor amanor yev Surb Tsnund!

This Zimer Papik couldn't tell me which marchutney went to my bus station so he decided to take me there himself. He summoned his 'sleigh' and I was there in no time. The Armenian's got a big kick out of the laughing American and the jolly Santa looking for a bus.

You're looking at a real live 'Snow Sweet'. The village event planner recruited me to pose as Santa's wife and sing Joy to the World and Jingle Bells to the community at our pagent yesterday. Those are my dancers behind me and that's the grand tree in front of me.

The Armenian New Years table. One of the 50 I visited this holiday season.

The label on this 'rocket' clearly states in English: "Do not hold in hand when lit. Place in ground and move a safe distance away." Nothing happened though, as 20 red, yellow and white fire balls flew out of the cardboard tube.

It's a boy!

The family rushed my host sister, Liana, to the hospital yesterday to deliver her fourth child. We've been anxious to see when she would deliver and more importantly, what the baby's gender would be. We hadn't heard anything when I went to bed last night, but my host mother was praying for a boy.

Every morning I get up extra early, not only to get things done, but just to have some quiet time to myself. Living in a house of eight is a big transition and I enjoy the mornings when I can go downstairs and feel a bit independent. The family doesn't start their day until after 8 a.m., but today when I opened the door I was astonished to see 10 people sitting in the living room! They were all drinking coffee and talking loudly and when I came in (in my long underware) they invited me to sit down and eat chocolates and pomagranates. The baby boy was born this morning around 5:30 and everyone (even some relatives who live down the street) was there to celebrate. I took the fruits and chocolates and began to chat with the father.

Every conversation these days starts with the weather. It's very cold. He made a comment to me that the whole night they were freezing while they waited for the baby and I stopped him mid conversation. "What do you mean you were freezing? Were you not waiting in the hospital room with your wife?" "No, of course not! No one is allowed in her room!" "Don't worry," he said, "I paid the nurse and she let me go in when the doctor was away."

Not a single member of the family slept last night. They spent the evening tending the wood burner, making coffee and talking with each other. The excitement of the new baby's arrival was overwhelming. When I came downstairs this morning they had heard the good news and were discussing the party preparations. This afternoon they killed one of our pigs for the feast.

As we anxiously await Christmas, I would like to wish you all the same joy and excitement. Joy to the whole world! The Lord has come!

Best wishes for a happy and healthy 2007

On hold for the holidays

It didn't take more than one 'meeting' to realize that the students I was trying to work with had no idea what group work outside of the classroom is.

Group work: I assign a project to you, you have a week to meet at one another's homes or in school during your free periods, you compile notes and present what you have prepared. Done. Unfortunately, the concept of group work was as foreign to my eighth graders as the concept of farming apricots is to me.

The English teacher and I sat down with one stand out student, Arshak. Arshak wants to be a doctor and is eager to participate in any extracurricular activities he can. He was the only one who attended our first meeting. He walked in at 5 o'clock on the dot and asked where everyone else was. I told him I had no idea and he replied that he hates it when people aren't punctual (that put him in very good standing with me right from the start). After waiting awhile, I decided it was ok that we only meet with one representative of the BRO camp as long as he was able to rally the others for the project. I actually believed that he could be the group leader and that ideas coming from him instead of the American volunteer might be a more effective way to organize.

After the first meeting he asked me why the boys needed to sit down and speak with one another. I tried to explain that brainstorming presentation ideas would be a great way to decide how we could recruit other members. They needed to decide who would say what, how long they would speak and what would be the best way to convey their ideas. If they would be able to present an organized overview of volunteerism and it's benefits maybe their classmates would be more interested in joining the mentorship program. Then he asked the same questions I faced for 15 years when I was in school: What if the group members don't listen to one another? What if we can't agree?

I immediately had flashbacks to group discussion. The first-year communications course seemed like a ridiculous waste of time when I was in school, but now I realize the content of that class is absolutely necessary in every aspect of my work. I should have taken better notes!

The unfortunate truth is that the whole project, and everything I'm trying to do for that matter, is on hold until the beginning of February. With only a week left in school everyone is going crazy over the upcoming New Years celebration. I've been hearing stories about New Years and the fun we'll have since I arrived in September. Just in case I was about to forget that it's only two weeks away, they started selling firecrackers in the local stores about a week ago. Kids have been setting them off in the schoolyard during breaks and two went off in the hallway yesterday. Due to the cold (both indoors and outside) the school will remain closed for the whole month and in the village, or at least mine, the tradition is to go from house to house eating, drinking and visiting.

Since my place of employment is closed for more than a month, I'll have to focus on my other health endevours. I'm planning a heart disease seminar with Arshak and working for a few PC initiatives over the break. We're applying to host an eco camp this summer and my school director has requested I plan an exercise camp. At home I'll stay busy with my reading and weaving (I'm making some small carpets). Life in the house is hectic since everyone is indoors all evening now but I just curl up next to the wood burner while every member of the family from young to old enjoys a new (very popular) Spanish soap opera. Tonight we will celebrate my host brother one-month smoke free. I have to go buy 8 Snickers bars.

Volunteering

It seems like a natural concept to me, but I've learned that in the villages today the idea of helping someone for the sake of helping isn't easily accepted. That said, my school director insists that we start a service learning program.

I wasn't sure what to do, at first I considered having the ninth or tenth form students work with older villagers. Things like cleaning, repairing, running errands and generally visiting, but then I realized that the elderly people don't need this type of assistance because they all live inside the care of their own family's household. There may be one or two people who live alone and that wouldn't have made much of a class learning experience.

I later decided that the students could work with the opposite population--the younger kids. I did some research about monitoring and the development of Big Brothers/Big Sisters and decided it would be a great opportunity for the older students to feel responsible and empowered and the younger kids could have someone to model and respect.

Fortunately, the PC organizes an annual summer camp for young boys. BRO camp teaches life skills to students over the course of a week. There were a few students who attended from my school and so I rallied them together to give a presentation to their peers about volunteering. I'm hoping that after learning about the benefits and hearing about the new project after school we will get interested students to sign up. After that, and if the project goes well, maybe we can integrate it into a service learning project in health or English class.

Now if only I could come up with a catchy name...

Thanksgiving in Armenia

Today I woke up in Yerevan in Anahit’s house. Anahit is a woman, probably in her mid forties, who has opened her apartment to volunteers and travelers for a few thousand dram per night. Kind of like a hostel, her home is warm and there are plenty of beds. She even let me take a hot shower this morning. As I was getting ready to leave I spoke with another guest who happens to be a chef from Singapore. He is on a holiday because his restaurant is being remodeled. He couldn’t get over the cold weather, but to be honest it was so sunny today that I was able to take off my wool coat as I walked (thanks to the two layers of thermal underwear I’m wearing).

By 9 a.m. I had written my thank you note, put a small chocolate on my pillow, and was on my way. I walked to Republic Square where met a new friend I’ve made in Yerevan. She is about my age and is the PR director for a chemical company in the city. We sat and sipped green tea and she shared her experiences related to the stress of changing the public’s perception of a company that is harmful for the environment and the excitement of planning the company’s 70th anniversary celebrations.

I left and walked to the ATM to get my December living allowance. I hadn’t taken two steps out of the booth before a young girl walked up and asked for money. It’s pretty hard to say that I don’t have anything when she just watched me take money from the account. She exploded into a long story about how she was a homeless orphan, she didn’t have any money and she was hungry. I marched her into the nearest store and bought her two bananas and a bag of walnuts. Not necessarily the tastiest breakfast, but I'm a health volunteer right?

I decided that I would make a quick stop in a gift shop to pick up a present for my counterpart. In my village when someone loses a close relative it is customary to visit their home and bring a gift. Normally I would expect to get the present and go, but in my experience there is no such thing as a quick visit to anywhere in Armenia. She asked where I was from and what I do in the country.

*side note: Just yesterday we formed a PR committee for the Peace Corps. We realized that there is very little public awareness of the organization among host country nationals. Many people believe that American volunteers are missionaries in the country. This results from the fact that religious organizations were historically the first to send relief.

In an effort to represent my work clearly I told her that I teach health. She pulled out a bag of carrots and offered me a small snack. I praised her for her healthy choice and we had a 30 minute discussion about what should and should not be eaten, in what quantity and how often. It was an ironic discussion for Thanksgiving Day.

I picked up laundry and searched for Christmas notes (unsuccessfully, sorry if they arrive late). I came to the office to use the internet, type some committee notes and do some research about service learning. I’ll go back to the village tonight and consider sharing cookies from Aunt Carlene with my host family.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! You’ve all blessed my life.

Personal public relations

I'm bursting with ideas for this village and not a single one will work.

It's a slow process integrating into a foreign community where no one can speak to you and no one understands your mission. Unfortunately, I've had to learn this the hard way over the past few months. Although we were told that the first six months of service would be a difficult time of adjustment I must not have thought that the 45 years of Peace Corps procedure applied to me. Finally, my project manager came to visit and she very carefully explained (for the 100th time) why I was getting so frustrated: "You're not being patient enough."

She asked me, "if I moved into a small town in Ohio and knocked on a stranger's door and told them: 'Hello! I'm here to change the way you do things in America!' What do you think would happen? They'd call the police, right?"

She's right, I can't expect the villagers to adopt my ideas, want to change, or even want to meet me the very moment I come here. It's not a fair expectation. I guess that's why they give us 2 years to serve.

So now I'm doing some personal PR. I've introduced myself and explained my purpose for coming in all of the classes and at the parent teacher meetings, they published an interview with me in the school newspaper and they are letting me give a seminar on Monday at the Youth Action Club meeting. I am going to parties, events and a wedding tomorrow all with the intention to let people know who I am.

My program manager explained: "You come here with your own mission and the PC mission in your mind, but what about the people who have lived here their whole lives? Don't you think that they have personal thoughts about how things should be? Traditions? Methods of their own that they think work just fine?" Kitch Kitch (little by little) things will come together....I pray...

Khash Bowl 2006

This weekend the volunteers held Khash Bowl Fall 06. The event was an opportunity for us to get together, speak English, play football, eat and drink. Although I thought we were there to play ultimate frisbee, I was excited to find out it was our own version of American football Saturday. When I arrived the girls had decided I was homecoming queen.

At 2 p.m. the game started: the North vs. the South. Although I was completely enthusiastc to participate in this game I have never played football in my life. In fact, I haven't the slightest idea how to throw a football. I didn't bother to tell any of the boys this though, and I ran out onto the field, flags (strips of plastic tablecloth) tucked into my windpants, with pride for the South. As I ran though, it occured to me that just being a spectator of Buckeye football all those years was not enough to qualify me to play the actual game. Fortunately, Andrew was a good captain and the guys could hold their own on the field. They were only required to have 2 girls playing at a time and so my lack of knowlege and skill didn't hurt the team too much. Every time I ran into the huddle I told him I could catch and throw and although I obviously didn't know what I was doing he would tell me where to go and who to 'tackle'. I didn't do a spectatular job; in fact, I didn't even do an ok job. I let Syd get two touchdowns on defense and Dominque deflected one of my touchdown passes. I sat out the remainder of the half and the majority of the second half too.

Then, it was the last minutes of the game. The South was up 8 to 6 and I was dying to go back in and try my luck just one last time. I saw that they let Katie play quaterback and run the ball and I begged Andrew to let me try. The second to last play of the game I got my chance and would you belive me if I told you I got a first down? There are some athletic moments you never forget. That first down in Khash Bowl 06 will be one of them...the sun shining, the breeze blowing and all of the volunteers chanting my name on the sideline. What an honor.

Later that night the Peace Corps rented a room in a local restaurant and had a party to celebrate. One of the A13's made chili for everyone and we ate and danced. After dinner they collected votes for MVPs. We were instructed to vote for a female and male from the north and south teams. Hands down the North nominations made sense. Syd deserved her nomination as she scored a majority of their team's touchdowns and Dominique played a great game. When it came to the South, however, I listened in disbelief when they called my name as the most valuable player. "Although she may not know much about football, she sure did make the team a heck of a lot cuter," Katie announced!

What? Me?

Although it was undeserved, they called me to the front, put a shot in my hand, took pictures and told me congratulations.
The Peace Corps never ceases to surprise me. Who knew the homecoming queen can double as the winning team's MVP?

Watch out Betty

Our village table at the festival. (left to right) My counterpart is in red, my school director, her daughter, our YCAP President, the Project Harmony director and a villager. On the table the woman in white is made of cheese and the swan on the right is a melon. Aren't the watermelons pretty?

I confidently presented the Armenian's with apple cobbler and M&M cookies. They're located in the very front.

I shook the president's hand and told him I was thankful for the opportunity to serve in his country. I said that I work in the school with my counterpart and he looked at her (which made me a very popular volunteer). He asked how long I've been in Armenia and I told him 2 years...and then in my excitement I corrected myself and told him 4 months. He asked what kind of volunteer I am and I told him a healthcare. That was the extent of the conversation, but exciting nonetheless.

This morning I was craving a loaf of fresh banana bread

When I was on my way home from my morning walk.

After teaching two eighth form classes my counterpart and I were preparing the lessons for tomorrow when I was called to the principal's office. I went up to find the Mayor and his secretary, the Project Harmony director and the YCAP leader all sitting around her conference room table. Fortunately I brought the English teacher with me when I went, because I wouldn't have understood their request at all had she not translated.

Apparently this Saturday is a holiday in Armenia. They are celebrating the completion of the fall harvest season with a large festival in a city about an hour north of my village. I think it has the similar atmosphere of Oktoberfest. As we sat around the table the Mayor described what would be requested of us. "We need a nice table cloth, plates and silverware, fresh vegetables and fruits, horovats, bread and lavash." All the women started planning who would bring what and which items would provide the most aesthetically pleasing presentation. He continued to describe the importance of the event saying that all of the villages would be there, the media and that even the president of Armenia would be in attendance. I sat there for a few minutes trying to imagine what he might request of me. Maybe he would want me to help decorate the table or maybe to help carry the dishes. Then he said exactly what he wanted. Our Sarah will prepare a traditional American dish for the table at the festival. She will make the dish and then she will present it as a representation of our village to the President....

It's no secret. I don't cook.

The whole meeting I tried with all my might to imagine what I could possibly be capable of preparing for this event. I know that whatever it is needs to look nice, it must stay fresh and be colorful. It has to last the hour-long bus trip to the city and it needs to be purely American. What did I eat when I lived by myself in America: spinach and turkey sandwhiches, cereal, PB&J, burritos and Graeter's ice cream. My thoughts were interrupted when the Mayor asked if I have a small American flag they can place on the table. Of course I don't. I have one American flag sticker on the inside of my journal but I wasn't about to offer that for the presentation. I smiled, hoping that my face wasn't projecting the fear and terror I felt inside. "They don't know that I'm useless in the kitchen (except to wash dishes)."

Gohar, the Project Harmony director, turned to me and said: "Sarah, last year Emily (the volunteer who was here before me) prepared the most delicious banana bread for us. Maybe you could make that?" I said I'd love to make banana bread, but it's ugly... it wouldn't look nice displayed on the table...and she agreed. I was thinking about M&M cookies, but it's a harvest festival and I'm a healthcare volunteer. What kind of message would that project?

So, I must get going. I've got work to do with my Peace Corps cookbook. I'm kicking myself for rejecting my mother's generous offers to teach me how to cook all those years...if only I could make a quick trip to Kroger!

"Homecoming"

This weekend I ventured back to my training village to visit my family and see my new 'niece'. On Friday evening I went to the neighbors house to visit and they showed me their new car from Yerevan and their two new baby cows. It was when Leila asked me to name them that I realized my purpose in this country. I'm not actually a Community Health Education Generalist, I'm here to name people's cows! Sorry, no pictures of baby Ana and baby Adam-- although they had me write the names on the barn door so they wouldn't forget (see above).

I thought it would be a quiet weekend visiting the family and seeing the new baby, but Saturday afternoon my brother walked in the house with 10 pairs of plastic medical 'work' gloves. He said they were for the potato garden...

I didn't come to the village prepared for manual labor, so I put on my windpants and my host mom loaned me some old men's house slippers. We went to the potato farm and much to everyone's excitement one of the neighbors was letting us use the tractor for the evening. The same potatoes that I helped plant back in June were all ready to be harvested so as the tractor ran up and down the rows we collected them in buckets and transferred them into potato sacks. In all my life the only interaction I've had with potato sacks has been the field day races in elementary school.

The potatoes came in all sizes. A majority were about a fourth of the size of what you'd find in Kroger, but every once in awhile the tractor would unearth a massive potato half the size of a football. The largest ones always got special recognition. We worked for a few hours, took a break to eat some hardboiled eggs, bread, tomatoes and cucumbers and then finished the field by about 7:30 p.m. There's a very good chance that working in that field was one of my favorite activities in Armenia thus far.

Above are pictures of Nare, my 'niece' born September 2. She is very tiny and they roll her up in about six blankets like a mummy to keep her warm. The yellow outfit was a gift from America, (thanks mom) but I don't think she'll fit into it for a few more months. It's probably for the better though, because her legs are all wrapped together with the towels. They advertise a baby supplement on TV called HIPP and I found them feeding it to Nare this weekend. At first I got really scared to see them serving her tea from a baby bottle, but after reading the label I found that it is in fact intended for infants. Although I don't trust advertising here very much I was happy to see that at least there was a warning: "to avoid tooth decay train baby to use a cup as soon as possible."

Give and take

I really cherish electronic correspondence with home. There's nothing that makes me happier than a hand written letter from the ones I love, and emails are almost equally as exciting. This week, however, I realized that no matter how much I enjoy writing to you, posting to this journal or 'chatting' through gmail, internet is definitely not one of my necessities.

I'll tell you what is: Water.

Last Monday or Tuesday, late one night, someone snuck in, dug a hole right into our dirt road and stole the 'machine' that pumps water into the whole village one time per week. As if storing water in underground pools and large trash cans wasn't bad enough, now we have no access to water. Of course I didn't realize this last week and I showered normally on Friday morning from what we had stored. On Saturday morning I left for Yerevan expecting a nice warm shower in the city that evening. The shower didn't work out in Yerevan, but I was sure I could last until Sunday evening when I got home....if only I would have known that there isn't water at 'home'. Through observation I learned where I could get water to wash my face and brush my teeth, but by yesterday afternoon I was definitely feeling like Pig Pen. The family said we would buy water from somewhere and that it would be delivered at 6 p.m., but at 9:45 when I stood on the balcony and considered washing my hair in the rain I decided enough was enough. I requested a bucket bath. I learned how to heat the water with a metal rod you plug into the wall and then learned the hard way how not to test if it's warm or not. One bucket of hot water and one half bucket of cold water later I felt much better and went to bed.

So isn't it ironic that for so many weeks I hoped for internet in my village and took the water for granted? Had I known the trade off I think I would have settled for what we had.

Village life/city life

Volunteers in the big city for a night. We had dinner at a restaruant called 'my village' with the regional director.
In Yerevan: At an outdoor concert on Tuesday night.

Hermine would kill for straight hair so the best solution is to iron it...I vaguely remember my mom telling me they used to use a real iron on hair 'back in the day'.

Horavatz from the three pigs we killed last week. They offered me a piece of heart, and then a liver when I refused, but I told them I was full.

At home: Mama cow, Suren, Samvel and our new baby cow. I proudly named him Oliver.

School Days

That's the new food pyramid on the right...
Our classroom

My counterpart and I.

This says: I listen I forget. I see I remember. I do I understand.

Work in school

For the past month, I’ve been blessed to work in a fantastic community, with a supportive school director and a counterpart who has 35 years of teaching experience. There is an active youth action club that recently held a seminar on civic democracy and next month we’re planning a seminar about the harmful effects of smoking. The other day I met with an English teacher from Yerevan who would like for me to start a service learning center in the village and my school director is requesting I write a grant for a community health resource center (there is a project design management workshop in February that my counterpart and I will attend to learn about grant-writing). All of these opportunities are exciting and motivate me to learn Armenian as soon as possible. In general I tend to feel inadequate with my current language ability.

Knowledge of the Armenian language is absolutely necessary in the classroom. Every school, every classroom and every teacher is different in America, and in Armenia it is no different. When I joined the Peace Corps I never imagined I would work in a school and even after a month of standing by my counterpart’s side it still scares me. We are allowed (and encouraged) to spend time simply observing the classes. One day, for instance, I went to the second grade Russian class and learned how to say grandmother, grandfather, mother, father, sister, brother. On a different occasion I went to 9th grade math where I think we were studying COS and SIN. Much to my surprise, however, my counterpart has expected small contributions to our health lessons since day one. Sometimes I’ll provide an example from America or I’ll help the students with an assignment. All of our lessons come from a healthy lifestyles curriculum developed by UNICEF so I generally have an idea of what topics we will cover in each class. Even though we’ve been teaching for three weeks, I still don’t understand the student’s schedules. The school includes students grades 1-10 and there are two classes of each grade (ex: 7a and 7b). Some days we’ll meet with only 2 classes. I am worried that we only see classes once every week or once every two weeks, which I don’t think is enough to cover all the content that I would like to add to the UNICEF curriculum.

My poor counterpart has been assigned to cover HIV/AIDS lessons in the 9th grade for the first time ever this year. Discussions about relationships, puberty and reproductive health are extremely taboo in this country. Not only are these topics not discussed in the schools, but they’re not even brought up in most homes. We call it ‘amot,’ shameful. Last week was our first lesson and my counterpart recruited the biology teacher to discuss the danger of HIV/AIDS and the potential risk for the small country of Armenia if people are not educated of its harms. She seemed very distraught after the lesson and I didn’t know why because it seemed to me (despite the fact that I didn’t understand a single word of the lecture) that the students were engaged in a healthy question and answer discussion. It wasn’t until much later that I learned that a boy stood up and told his classmates: “Five minutes of pleasure is not worth a lifetime of suffering.” When I was told about his comment I was impressed that the lecture was successful. Of course I considered this a positive comment for one of the students to make but my counterpart thought quite differently. She was concerned that this boy could only make this type of comment if he had some kind of outside knowledge or experience. At 15, I would assume that most boys have outside knowledge of this topic, or at the very least I know they all watch American films. As much as I tried to explain to her that this was a positive thing for a student to contribute she still assured me that she’d be watching him very closely for the remainder of the year. There’s an NGO in Yerevan called AIDS Prevention and Education Center (APEC) that does training sessions with students so they can be peer educators in their schools, maybe I’ll suggest they come to our village to assist in this process.
My counterpart loves the students and speaks to them with patience and love but today (September 19) she was sick. I found myself living a nightmare in a classroom of 4th graders. I stood in front of them and I said: “Hello. Today Enkert Grikoriyan is sick. Today is a special day because I will teach alone. You must listen so we can learn.” And then, after my 20 second introduction I realized I didn’t know the lesson plan and I was so scared I didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, they sent me to the class with the school secretary. I calmly walked the UNICEF lesson notes over to her and much to my dismay she just started reading the book out loud. When the students were instructed to participate, and were allowed to get out of their seats they began to misbehave and I was even more horrified when she began pulling their ears, yelling and smacking the back of their heads. I realize that in America teachers used to be allowed to hit with rulers, books or hands, but I’ve never seen this first-hand. I wanted to cry and I’m pretty sure the students did too. Finally, she told them all to take their seats and she began reprimanding them for their behavior. After listening to this for a bit I got up the nerve to interrupt. Very slowly and very ineffectively I said something to the effect of: “Do you know the word respect?” They all answered yes. I said: “Respect is very important in school. If you do not respect your teachers or each other we can not learn.” I wrote on the board: (in English and in Armenian) why is it important that we work together? I used the imperative form of the verb to write and hoped they would answer the question. Of course they didn’t understand what they were supposed to do, they just copied the question on their paper. I was about ready to have a heart attack as I frantically flipped through my dictionary for the verb to answer. I couldn’t find it, but fortunately I found the noun form and I instructed them that I wanted them to tell me why working together is important in school. They all did so and I collected their papers. The room got really quiet when I started to talk again. I gave them a “lecture” on the value of education and work-ethic, which I’m sure amounted to: “if we can’t work together in school, if you won’t listen to your teachers, then you won’t be successful.” Oh well. The class was over and the secretary put her arm around me and said how much she loved me. I was happy to have her on my side. She told me that the class was naughty but I just told her that they had a lot of energy. I said thank you for her help and she said, no problem, they’ll behave for me because they’re afraid of me. I didn’t tell her that I was afraid too.

The first day of school

On the front porch of our pretty pink house the first day of school. From Left to right: Samvel, Hermine, Sargis, Souren (In the doorway-Heriknaz and Souren). Oh, and your new health teacher...

Culture and Work

August 30, 2006
All Peace Corps volunteers get a Newsweek magazine delivered to our mailboxes in Yerevan every week. I was reading the July 24th issue (I’m a bit behind) the other week and in the Technology section there was a story called: "Games for Good." Students at the University of Denver developed a videogame called Squeezed as a part of a growing trend of socially conscious games. The article says that there is a "Games for Change" conference held at the New York School in NY. In the game, you are a frog who happens to live on a farm. Your aim is to pick as many grapes, oranges and other fruit as quickly as you can. The fruit, however, is going to rot, and you’ve got to compete with worms, donkeys and dragonflies. What’s more, the farmer might decide to spray pesticides, which puts you in such a drunken stupor that picking up fruit is a challenge. You may just be a frog, but you have a family and community to support in another country. The ‘juice’ you collect from the fruits you pick up is paying for food and medical care back home. Without it, your family may starve. The game is intended to raise awareness among well-off young people by putting them in game situations that resemble those of immigrants and poor people in real life. The characters serve as stand-ins for migrant workers from Latin America. The reason I share this is that the description of Squeezed very much illustrates the life of the families I’ve lived with in Armenia. I’m not sure how they do it, but I’m in awe of their strength. It’s not just Latin American immigrants to America; people are ‘Squeezed’ all over the world.
September 7, 2006,
School…and life for that matter would be so much easier if I spoke Russian. Our building is being remodeled and it’s a hectic mess trying to figure out where we as teachers should go-let alone where the students are supposed to be. It took me two weeks of observation before I finally realized that the room the teachers are currently using as a lounge is actually the health classroom where we’ll be able to teach. All day yesterday my counterpart was telling me that lessons will be easier when we have our ‘cabinet’. Normally I can recognize when people are speaking to me in Russian, but for some reason I actually thought that she was telling me that we needed our cabinet. I assumed maybe it was full of some health materials or resources of some kind. After awhile, though, I started to doubt this assumption and figured that she was probably calling a classroom a cabinet. I went home and asked my sister and sure enough, cabinet is the Russian word for classroom. I’m debating whether or not I should start spending my open periods in Russian class with the first grade. I think that after I conquer Armenian I’ll work towards learning Russian—it sure would come in handy in this part of the world.
They seem to like me in school; I get along with all the teachers, construction workers and cleaning staff. The students are fairly well-behaved and they listen to me despite my poor language skills. I’ve spent the past 2 weeks giving introduction after introduction, but everyone wants to know the same thing. The adults want to know about my family at home and where I come from, the kids want to know if I drove in America and what kind of car I had. My speech at the opening day ceremony consisted of a congratulations on the first day of school and welcome back, who I am and the teacher I’ll be working with, where I come from, what I studied in America and my favorite line: "If you work hard in school you will be successful."
When I have open periods I like to visit the English class (at this point in my language studies it’s the only time I can stand up in front of students and be sure they’re retaining the information I give them). The ninth graders were really interested in what American 15-year-olds are like. I told them that in America men and women are equal, so boys have to help with household chores just as much as the girls do. I said that my brother is expected to clean the bathrooms and wash the dishes. They all were astounded and started laughing (a testament to the strongly divided gender roles in this country). One brave boy stood up and said: "but in Armenia if men do housework they’ll get made fun of!" I asked why but he didn’t have a response. It’s just the way things are. I also told them that at 15 people can start learning to drive and that we are very consumed with getting our license so that we can have independence. They were confused by this, because in Armenia being able to operate a motor vehicle gives you no more independence than turning 5 years old. Families live together (there are 3 generations in my house) until marriage, and even then you probably will only move down the street. They couldn’t imagine how ownership of a car would provide any sort of escape from parents—where would they go? In the class I tried to explain that they had more potential than they realize. I explained that they need to start thinking about their futures and what they want to do after graduation next year (compulsory school only lasts until the 10th ‘form’). The same boy that said that men shouldn’t do housework raised his hand and told me it’s hard to achieve anything when you go to school in a small village. I told refuted his statement with the argument that not all schools in America are rich and full of resources. I told him that if there’s something he wants to do, or a problem he wants to solve I’m here to help….we’ll see what happens.
Today we had a very interesting lesson with the 8th graders; it’s one of my favorite activities from home. You are given a list of values such as health, freedom, love, a good family, beloved work, education, friends, a fatherland etc… and you must choose the top five that you value the most and then rank them. I thought that the 13 and 14-year-olds would surely value friendship as one of their top values (I remember being consumed by ‘fitting in’ at that age). I was surprised to learn, however, that their top values tend to be family and physical safety. When I thought about it a little more I realized that these answers are characteristic of the Armenian culture. Everything I’ve observed in living with two families these past 3 months points to the fact that family is of highest importance. After the history these people have lived through I understand why physical safety would be valuable as well. I debated telling them what’s valued in America, (money and work) but decided instead to follow the lesson plan and explain that if you don’t have health you can’t enjoy the other values (your family and friends will suffer if you are unhealthy, you aren’t safe, you’re not really free etc…). Health is the foundation of the other values, and it’s the reason why it’s so important to learn.

End of Summer

I love my new family and village. This is a fantastic site placement and I have been blessed to have so many people supporting my work. My new best friend in the village is my 10-year-old brother. He brings me presents all the time and talks to me nonstop whether or not I understand what he’s saying. His favorite presents to give are seashells stuffed with fake flowers. He presents it to me and then runs it up to my room where they are proudly displayed on my windowsill. My sister is amazing and ever so patient with her four children. I’m thrilled to have this family on my side and the children as allies in the school.

People in the village whom I’ve been introduced to or whom I’ve gone to see (including the post office employees *hint hint*) comment on my language. They compliment how well I speak after such a short period of time. At first I thought they were just being nice, but the other day I overheard the two librarians talking about me and they affirmed what I’ve been told about my speech. This is shocking to me because learning Armenian is no easy task. After studying diligently in classes with Armenian language teachers we’re sent here to learn on our own. This becomes quite a task when the words I may have learned in one region are not spoken by the population at my new site. Armenian Barbar is slang that is used in different areas of the country. Sometimes my family will spend an entire dinner conversation trying to explain a term to me that, had they said the official word in the first place, would have been completely understandable. I’m sure my speech sounds rather bookish to them, but the Peace Corps didn’t give me an Armenian Barbar/English dictionary. As if the Barbar doesn’t present enough of an issue, the majority of the population speaks Russian fluently and often uses Russian terms in daily speech. I learned some Russian words in our classes, but different not nearly as much as I wanted. The family got a big laugh one night when I spent 15 minutes trying to figure out if I liked ice cream. Of course I couldn’t find the word in my dictionary and it wasn’t until my sister realized they were using Russian that I clarified that it is in fact one of my favorite foods.

Life is different now that I don’t have the support system of the other Americans or LCFs around. I tend to get pretty lonely when I want to talk and am unable. This provides a great incentive to learn and study as much as possible. One of my favorite techniques is watching Sabor a Ti (a Spanish soap opera dubbed into Armenian). “Miranda” as it is called by its devoted Armenian audience, is on every afternoon and uses such basic sentence structure that even I can follow a majority of the storylines. The other day, for instance, I was watching and all of a sudden it occurred to me that I new exactly what was being said. I consulted my dictionary to confirm and sure enough the man had said “I have no appetite”. I’m sure my sister finds it entertaining to watch the show with me because usually when I can directly translate a phrase or expression like that I shout it out with enthusiasm. I just get very excited when I think about how when I arrived nothing anyone said made sense…and now I can watch television. Speaking of television, one of the other shows that the kids and I enjoy is called Strange but True. It’s like a newscast similar to Ripley’s Believe it or Not. We sit around the television watching crazy behavior from all over the world; laughing at a man lifting hundreds of pounds with his ears or women sumo wrestling. The kids enjoy movies a lot too. The other night we watched Monsters Inc. in Russian together. This is fun entertainment because they get everything arranged just like we would in America. For instance, we pick corn husks from our garden, pull out all the seeds and pop them in a skillet over the gas tank…ok…so not just like America, but movie and popcorn- it’s kind of the same!

Whenever I’m having a bad day, I have not walked enough. Every morning I get up before the sun makes it over the mountains and I walk for about an hour. I need this exercise, but I also need this time to process everything that’s going on. It is quiet in the mornings (when I get out of town and away from the scary stray dogs) and I look at the majesty of this beautiful country and I give thanks that I am able to work here for a little while. I also think of all of you and I pray that you’re doing well and enjoying autumn in America. Thank you for your continued love and support.

Cultural understanding

Folk remedies may be one of the most significant road blocks to my work as a health education professional in this country. Some of my favorite beliefs include:

Drinking water makes you fat (very prevalent with women).
Headache? Place a tight headband around head for 30 minutes.
Wash your hair with kerosene for lice infestations.
Potato slices clear up varicose veins and also help in cases of burns or eye pain.
Cigarette smoking can reduce headache.
Drink a spoonful of vinegar before sleep in order to loose weight.
Salt can be used to clean teeth/if you have a cavity place cheese in it (or vodka on cotton or coffee or smoke a cigarette).
If a child is choking, rub/massage the space between the eyes.

I have experienced a few folk remedies and so far they have proven effective. For example, when I visited my new village I got mosquito bites on my arms and legs. I was sitting at the kitchen table one morning scratching away when all of a sudden I was being rubbed down with a vodka-soaked cottonball. Vodka is quite the investment in this country. Not only useful for toasts, people believe a vodka compress will cure a cough, clean wounds, cure headache and stomach problems and is generally good for the spirit. I’m sure it was the alcohol took away the itch in my bites.

A few days ago I asked my host mother, Anahit, what she loved most about our village. I felt like this was a pretty significant achievement because it means that I can ask questions (in this new language) in the form of “appreciative inquiry”. The Peace Corps encourages us to use this strategy for intentional change. Based on the Constructionist Principle (which says that we construct realities based on our previous experience, so our knowledge and the destiny of the system are interwoven), the Principle of Simultaneity (that inquiry and change are simultaneous) and the Poetic Principle (the story of the system is constantly being co-authored and is open to infinite interpretations), appreciative inquiry identifies the best of ‘what is’ to pursue future dreams and possibilities of ‘what could be’. The Peace Corps tells us that this strategy can be used in mission statement/vision development, strategic planning, organizational/system redesign, service enhancement, group culture change (which I’m hoping means smoking cessation), leadership development, civic/community development, appraisals and performance management and individual coaching.

Anahit said that she was most proud of her garden, but then she thought about it for a minute and realized that she also loved her family and her neighbors. It was pretty awesome to see her light up with pride in her small community. She started talking about the people in the village, and as a result of my simple question she began to discover the most valuable resource Armenia (or any organization for that matter) has to offer: its people.

Small conversations like this are really the motivating factor behind my language improvement right now. It’s a one step forward two steps back situation because the next day in class I gave a presentation on my apartment in America and I said that across the hall from my bedroom there is a swimming pool (instead of a bathroom). You have to have a good sense of humor to join the Peace Corps!

End of PST

"The issue isn't wether you're liked or appreciated or whether your credentials are adequate or whether your intentions are good; it's simply a matter of trust and credibility, which can only come over time. It's not that they're not glad to see you, they're just trying to figure out who and what it is we've got here." I read this quote from A Few Minor Adjustments and thought it was perfect for the next step in Peace Corps process. We're wrapping up the last days here and preparing for our new lives in our permanent sites which brings another wave of ambiguity and questions of acceptance from the Armenian people. This time, however, we don't have the security of Language and Cultural Facilitators or PC staff to help us work through problems. It's simply up to us to get the job done.

My mom sent me a few questions that she said everyone is interested in knowing. I'll try and tell you some things I must be leaving out in my communications. First, let me say a very heartfelt thank you to everyone who has sent me mail during training. Receiving letters and packages is by far the highlight of my visits to the city. Thank you for your thoughtfulness!

My diet:
Every morning I wake up and eat one egg, which is hardboiled. This is not optional but I sometimes get creative with how I eat it in an effort to amuse myself. My newest creation is cut up egg with tomatoes. Sometimes I put it on bread but I've gotten spoiled and now I'll only eat the bread when my mom has baked it fresh that day or the day before. Two days ago my mom tested a new dish at dinner: Matsoon with raspberry muraba. Matsoon is a staple in Armenia, it is a very bitter yogurt substance that they put on just about everything (just like we do in America with Ranch dressing). I refused to touch it because I think it tastes like goat but then my mom realized what a sweet tooth I have and she added the raspberry muraba (a soupy raspberry jam). It makes for some delicious raspberry yogurt! Now I get to eat this in the morning with my egg. She also makes hot coco for me because I don't really enjoy coffee and sometimes we'll have some pastries. For lunch if it is a central day (the days we're in the city) I eat bread with tomatoes and cheese. The cheese here is nothing like Kraft (although I hear you can buy Kraft mac and cheese in Yerevan). It's called 'salty cheese' and salty it is. My host mother found some unsalty cheese but it's got the consistency of string cheese and it's pretty tough. I eat it though and don't mind at all. For dinner sometimes we'll have a BBQ (horovats) or we'll eat a greenbeans and eggs dish. The most popular dinner in Armenia is Tolma which is a cabbage wrap with ground beef and rice on the inside. Sometimes we have macaroni. Every meal comes with fried potatoes. It's a staple from the garden in the back of our house (and very common for all the households in this region). Some meals I've eaten have consisted of all carbs: potatoes, bread, macaroni and a cream-filled donut. Good thing I'm not on Adkins!. She learned that I love carrots and so she makes "carrot salad" which means she shreds the carrots and pours sugar on top. It's good. Everything we eat my host mother manages to make unhealthy. I've managed to break her of the great salt consumption but I can't seem to shake the amount of fat from a tin and vegetable oil she uses. A part of me thinks the oil is to combat a sticky pan on the stove but I know for sure that she just likes the immense amount of grease. Every family is different though, and I think my host family in my new site eats a little more reasonably. I guess we'll see. The girls I run with were very interested in how much I weigh and when I told them that I didn't know they took me to their Tatik's house and put me on the grain scale. It was in kilograms but they were pleased. I told them as long as my pants fit I'm not worried about how many kilos I weigh. One last thing about food, yesterday at the central day our medical session was about food shopping in country and food preparation. They taught us about safety issues like botulism but they also gave everyone a cookbook and had cooking demonstrations! I was very very excited about this session (as you can imagine). We learned how to make Mexican dishes, Italian, Asian, and even chocolate chip cookies! It was one grand potluck at the end and we enjoyed some very delicious (familiar) tastes.

Speaking of Central Days and my PC training, I might share some of the topics we've covered in preparation for service. Someone once said: "PST is like trying to take a sip of water out of an open fire hydrant (there's an explosion of information/culture and emotions)...try to take those sips." Although every sector is different, community health volunteers have covered many interesting topics during the past two months. We've had speakers come in to discuss NGO operation and social services provided to Armenians. We visited a sanitorium for TB patients or children who have parents with TB. We have learned about the basic health package for specific groups of the population and today, for instance, we visited a city hospital. There are some sessions that every trainee attends that cover broad cultural or technical information. We've studied the Armenian genocide and history in these sessions and welcomed influencial leaders to speak (such as the American Ambassador or the head of USAID). We've studied corruption and it's impacts in our work. The most important sessions for me are about how we can use commitment, resources and skills to build capacity in the country. We're trying to help people help themselves and so proper analysis of the communities needs is very important. One example that was described to us occured in a school where an international organization donated money to renovate and replace the restrooms. They bought all new toilets, doors and sinks and within three months the entire facility had been taken apart. The doors were stolen, the toilets broken and the sinks missing things like handles. When asked why the children were so 'disrespectful' of the gift, they replied that they didn't need a new restroom. It wasn't their hope to have new toilets, they didn't care if they had to use a hole outside. Then, someone decided to ask the students what they would do if they had been given the money. The stuents participated in participatory analysis for community action (PACA) and what the people discovered was that what the kids really wanted was new curtains for their classrooms. Of course if you asked me, the American volunteer accustomed to running water and European toilets, what I would like, I would reply a new restroom. For these kids, however, having a nicer classroom was a higher priority. So this is where we're learning about evaluation. We're also studying the ADDIE model for cirriculum design and lesson plan development. We're learning about organizations that we can collaborate with in our communities (for instance my village has a youth action committee). We're studying grant writing and how to apply for money for the projects our community would like to initiate.

The Peace Corps gave us our new job descriptions: We are learners, change agents, co-trainer and co-facilitators, project co-planners and mentors. Nothing we do should be our personal priority, it should instead be what our community would like to see happen. I think that the people of Armenia are creative, they do have a desire to change and work and grow, but sometimes there just isn't an outlet. My job is to provide that outlet in my village.

I am all out of time for now but I will write to you about international relations, the genocide and earthquake and anything else you would like to know. It may take me some time as we're quite busy preparing for swearing in on the 14th and moving to our new village on the 15th. Also, school starts (first bell) on September 1, but I promise I have not forgotten you and will continue to do my best to share anything you would like.

Much love!